Shattered

Amelia's POV "Aunt Susan, what's taking Brandon so long? He landed thirty minutes ago and he's still not out." My body trembled with a dizzying mix of excitement and nerves as we waited in the bustling airport arrivals hall. Brandon—my Brandon, the love of my life, Aunt Susan's son—was finally coming home after five long years. Every fiber of me ached for the sight of him. "Relax, honey. He'll be out any moment now. I know how much you've missed him, and I'm sure he's missed you just as fiercely." Aunt Susan's kind words were meant to soothe, but they did little to calm the frantic pounding of my heart or the sweat slicking my palms like a faucet left running. She tilted her head, a spark of curiosity in her eyes. "I wonder what the surprise is that he mentioned the last time we spoke on the phone." Her comment pierced the whirlwind of boredom and anticipation swirling inside me. It had been over a year since I'd heard from him properly. Our calls and messages had simply... stopped. No explanations, just silence. I told myself he was buried in his final year at university—papers to submit, exams to conquer. Yet I knew he stayed in touch with his family through weekly calls and with his best friend Lucas. The thought gnawed at me, a quiet dread I tried to shove away.  Don't think the worst, Amelia. Just don't... "He's coming!" Aunt Susan gasped, grabbing my hand and waving enthusiastically with her free one to catch his attention. I whipped my head in the direction she was staring, and there he was. Finally. After five endless years of longing, my heart skipped as the world seemed to slow. Brandon strode toward us, more handsome than I remembered, his features sharpened by maturity into something achingly perfect. I loved him even more fiercely now, if that was possible. But then—wait. He wasn't alone. A tall woman with cascading blonde hair walked beside him, their hands intertwined, smiles mirroring each other's like they shared a secret world. My heart twisted painfully. What is this? I glanced at Aunt Susan, whose face mirrored my confusion. This had to be the surprise he'd hinted at to her. Who was she? Why did they look so intimately in love? And what did that make me to him? I didn't even notice they'd reached us until his deep voice broke through the haze—matured, resonant, stirring memories I'd clung to like lifelines. "How are you, Mom?" He pulled Aunt Susan into a warm hug, and I stood frozen, words failing me. "Hi, Lia," he said next, turning to me with that easy smile. "I didn't know you'd come to pick me up too." Lia—my nickname, casual and familiar. I couldn't smile, couldn't speak. My heart thundered so loudly I swore he could hear it echoing in the terminal. Aunt Susan looped an arm around my waist in a supportive side hug. "Oh, I asked her to come. She's your childhood friend, and she's missed you terribly." I kept my eyes glued to the floor, avoiding Brandon's gaze. One look into those chocolate-brown eyes, and I'd dissolve into a mess of old dreams. "By the way, Mom, I want you to meet Christine." His voice turned proud, affectionate. "Christine, this is my mom, Susan, and my childhood friend—kind of like a little sister—Lia. Meet my girlfriend, Christine." The words landed like a sledgehammer. Girlfriend. Childhood friend. Little sister. All this time, I'd been building castles in the air, and he saw me as... family? Nothing more? I thought the ache in my chest couldn't worsen, but it did, splintering into shards. She was perfection incarnate—tall, blonde, effortlessly elegant with sharp intelligence in her blue eyes. Her model-like figure curved in all the right places, radiating confidence. How could I compete? No wonder he'd fallen for her. I couldn't blame him; she was flawless in every way. "Pleasure to meet you both," Christine said warmly, embracing Aunt Susan, who returned it graciously. Then she extended her hand to me. I stared at it, numb, unable to take it. This couldn't be real. My heart lay in pieces, too shattered to move, to pretend. Denial wrapped around me like a fog—This is a dream. Wake up. "Honey, are you okay?" Aunt Susan's voice cut through, laced with worry. I couldn't breathe here, couldn't watch him with her. "I'm sorry, but I have to go." The words tumbled out, and before anyone could stop me, I bolted, weaving through the crowd toward the exit. Every second in that place suffocated me. I needed air, needed to feel alive again. I ran until my lungs burned, thinking I'd escaped, when a firm hand gripped my wrist. "Amelia, stop!" I spun around, and there he was—Brandon, his face etched with worry and regret. "Brandon," I whispered, the name a broken plea. Our eyes locked, and tears I'd held back for years spilled over. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice cracking. "Let go of me." I yanked against his hold, but he tightened it, silent. "Let go, Brandon!" I pleaded again, drowning in those chocolate eyes—eyes that once gazed at me with pure love and affection, or so I'd believed. Slowly, he released me. Seizing the moment, I turned and fled toward the exit, leaving him—and my shattered heart—behind