The following morning, my brother arrived at the house. We sat in the living room, the air thick with unspoken words. I noticed how he avoided my gaze, his focus on the coffee table between us.
« Why didn’t you tell me? » I finally asked, breaking the silence.
He sighed, a heavy sound that filled the room. « I thought it was better this way, » he replied, his eyes still downcast.
« Better for whom? » I pressed, needing to understand.
He hesitated, then spoke. « I didn’t want to drag it out. I wanted a clean break. »
His words stung, but I kept my composure. « A clean break from what? » I asked, genuinely puzzled.
« From all of it, » he said, gesturing vaguely. « The family, the responsibilities. I want my own life. »
I nodded slowly, processing what he had said. It was the first moment of clarity in an otherwise murky situation.
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