My Brother Became a Vegetable To Save Me Novel by NANCY ROWSE

Elio returned home late every day, sometimes not coming back for days on end. It turned out he was spending that time with another woman at the hospital.

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I spoke to myself as if seeking answers, but none came. Tears welled up uncontrollably, and I pressed my hand tightly over my mouth to stifle the sobs.

I desperately tried to find excuses for Elio in my mind–what if she was just Elio’s sister?

I had lost my appetite. After wiping away my tears, I returned to my hospital room, packed my belongings, and prepared to leave.

Back home, I was unable to sleep and spent the night on the sofa waiting for Elio.

But he never came, and the only thing I received was a message from him.

“Tonight is a family gathering. I’ll come to pick you up.”

The brief message spoke volumes of his indifference.

He hadn’t responded to my previous messages.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I waited by the door in the evening. Elio was never early, but he was always punctual.

Yet, this time, he was late for so long that I began to think he might not come at all.

Elio’s car was parked steadily at the curb. I quickly ran toward the passenger side, but before I could even open the door, Elio had already rolled down the window.

A woman with a beaming smile was sitting in the passenger seat. “Hello, I’m Samara Moreno, Elio’s childhood friend.”

Stunned, I stared at Samara, realizing she was Elio’s unforgettable first love. It dawned on me that Elio had been late because he was picking her up.

A wave of sadness and disappointment surged through me, and before I could fully process my emotions, Elio’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Aimee, sit in the back seat.”

Those few words felt like a bucket of cold water thrown over me. I was overwhelmed with an indescribable sadness. Elio had never let another woman sit in the passenger seat, which made it clear how important Samara was to him.

At the family gathering, everyone knew Samara and centered their attention around her. Even Elio, who usually remained silent at the dinner table, spoke about Samara with a tenderness I had never seen before. At that moment, I felt like an outsider, unable to fit in.

I watched Elio, noting the different way he spoke about Samara–his eyes filled with affection and a softness I had never witnessed.

Elio’s principles seemed to bend repeatedly for Samara.

I felt uncomfortable and awkward, longing to escape.