You're Supposed To Be My Brother-in-Law

　　"Felicia! You're going to be late for the wedding!" my mom called out.

　　"I'm coming, Ma—just a minute!" I scrambled around the room in search of my purse as I ran out of it.

　　Today was my sister's wedding, and I was so excited for her. She and Ian had been together since high school, and today they were finally getting married. My best friend, Annabel, was downstairs looking stunning and dashing as ever when I got down.

　　Eva stood at the kitchen island, scrolling through her phone, her purse slung over her shoulder.

　　"Forgot the good vanilla for tonight's dessert," she announced, keys jangling. "Mall run. Twenty minutes, tops." She kissed the top of Ian's head, ruffled his hair, then glanced at me. "Hold the fort, Fifi?"

　　I managed a nod. "Drive safe."

　　The front door clicked shut. The house exhaled.

　　Ian appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and the hall, a dish towel in hand, pretending to dry a glass that was already spotless. His eyes found mine.

　　"Eva's gone," he said casually, as if commenting on the weather.

　　My pulse spiked. I busied myself stacking plates, the clink of ceramic loud in the sudden quiet. "She'll be back soon."

　　"Not soon enough." He set the glass down and rounded the island. I stepped back until the refrigerator pressed cold against my spine. He didn't touch me, just stood close enough that I smelled him, the faint scent of chlorine from the pool. "Upstairs," he said. "Now."

　　"No." The word came out thin.

　　Ian's hand brushed my wrist, his thumb stroking the frantic beat beneath my skin.

　　I hated that my body leaned toward him before my mind caught up. Hated the memory of his weight on me, the way I'd shattered. I shook my head, but my feet followed when he turned and walked away, already expecting me to obey.

　　The staircase creaked under our steps. My heart lodged in my throat. Ian didn't look back.

　　At the landing, he pushed open the master bedroom door—the one Eva and I had painted soft sage last spring, laughing over wine. Sunlight striped the unmade bed through half-closed blinds. He shut the door.

　　I stood frozen by the dresser, fingers curled around its edge. Ian peeled off his T-shirt and tossed it onto Eva's vanity chair. The muscles I'd traced with my tongue days ago flexed as he stepped closer.

　　"Take off the dress," he said.

　　I didn't move.

　　He reached for the hem himself, bunching the cotton upward. Cool air kissed my thighs, my stomach, until the fabric cleared my head and fluttered to the floor. I stood there in the swimsuit I'd never changed out of, goosebumps rising.

　　"Bed," he murmured, guiding me backward until my knees hit the mattress. The duvet smelled like Eva's lavender detergent and something darker—Ian's skin, their shared nights. I sank down, the bed too intimate, too sacred.

　　He followed, knees behind my hips, hands sliding the swimsuit straps from my shoulders. His mouth brushed my collarbone, teeth scraping lightly. I closed my eyes, shame and desire tangling until I couldn't tell them apart.

　　Ian's fingers hooked the waistband of my bottoms, tugging them down my legs. The fabric caught briefly at my ankle before he flung it aside.

　　I was bare on their marital sheets, sunlight painting gold across my skin, my thighs trembling.

　　He kicked his shorts toward the closet and hovered over me again, skin hot, the hard line of him pressing against my hip. His hand slid between my legs, spreading me.

　　I gasped—I couldn't help it—and his mouth swallowed the sound. My breath fractured as his hands moved over me, my body responding despite everything.

　　I stopped fighting.

　　I pushed him away just long enough to pull the last of the fabric from my body, holding his gaze as I did. I tossed it at him. He caught it, surprised, and for a moment he looked stunned. Good.

　　Then he was on me again, pulling me into him by the waist. I forgot who he was. Forgot everything but the heat, the chaos, the way my body betrayed me.

　　The world narrowed until a voice shattered it.

　　"Honey! I'm home!"

　　He pulled away instantly, throwing my clothes at me and shoving me into the closet just as the bedroom door opened.

　　"Honey, I'm glad you're home. I missed you," he said smoothly, kissing Eva as she giggled.

　　"Where's Felicia?" Eva asked. "I can't find her."

　　"I think she's in the back," he replied easily. "You look tired, babe. You should rest."

　　"I know. I'll take next week off."

　　"Please do."

　　He pulled her onto his lap, caressing her hair, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Eva blushed, wrapping her arms around him.

　　I watched from the dark of the closet. Minutes ago, I'd been in his hands too but this was different. I understood then. I was nothing to him.

　　"I'll go check on Felicia," Eva said. "I got her something."

　　"Okay. I love you," he replied.

　　She kissed his cheek and left the room.

　　The moment the door shut, I stepped out of the closet and dressed quickly. Ian moved toward me, mouth opening as if to speak, but I lifted a hand to stop him.

　　I knew who he was the moment I let him touch me. He didn't need to apologize.

　　I finished dressing and headed toward the back of the house so Eva would find me there.

　　"Hi, Anna. You look beautiful as always," I said. She smiled in response and did a twirl, showing me her dress.

　　"Come on, girls. We don't have much time. The wedding will be starting soon," my mom urged. The church bells rang as our car pulled up to the church, their echoes filling the air. I grinned and held onto Annabel's arm.

　　"You look beautiful, Felicia. I can't wait for it to be your wedding," my mom commented.

　　"Stop, Ma. Today is about Eva, not me."

　　My heart fluttered as I stood by the doorway, fixing my hair. Eva had requested a small wedding, so there was no need for bridesmaids—it was just her and Ian.

　　We pushed the door open and walked in. Everything was beautiful. Magical, even. It was exactly how Eva had wanted it. White petals lined the aisle, the altar was adorned with lights, a violinist stood by the side, and an auto singer softly did her thing.

　　"Everyone, please rise," the officiant's voice carried gently through the church as soon as we got to our seats at the front.

　　The guitarist began to play as the violinist increased the tempo. The church doors opened again, and there stood Eva with our dad beside her, their hands linked. I gulped as tears filled my eyes at how angelic she looked.

　　She looked breathtaking. Her gown was simple yet elegant, it screamed class. The satin dress hugged her body before flowing out at the legs. A delicate lace veil covered her face, and tiny pearls shimmered under the lights.

　　They walked toward the altar in slow steps. I couldn't hold the tears anymore, and they freely streamed down my face. Ian could be seen crying from the altar too.

　　My father leaned in, whispering something to her as they walked. She smiled afterward. When they reached the altar, my father pressed a kiss to her cheek, placed her hand in Ian's, and walked away.

　　"She's so beautiful," Anna breathed in awe.

　　"I know." Eva's fingers intertwined with Ian's as they both turned to face the pastor.

　　"Dearly beloved," the officiant began, "we are gathered here today to witness the union of Eva and Ian in holy matrimony. Marriage is not the joining of two perfect souls, but of two people willing to love, forgive, and grow together in all seasons of life."

　　I felt Annabel squeeze my hand beside me. I turned to her and saw her dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. I didn't bother checking myself—I was sure my makeup was already ruined.

　　After prayers and readings, it was time for the vows, and silence fell over the church. Eva and Ian turned to face each other, staring deep into one another's souls. The officiant smiled.

　　"Eva and Ian have chosen to write their own vows. You may now proceed." Murmurs and whistles of approval rippled through the hall. Ian cleared his throat and began.

　　"Eva, I've known you for practically my whole life, and you're the best gift I could ever ask for. You've stood with me through the good and the bad. You make everything okay without even trying. Today, I promise to love you with every part of me. I promise to choose you above everything. I promise to be a shield by your side and to bring honor to you. You are the absolute love of my life, and marrying you is the best decision I'll ever make."

　　His voice shook at the end, and the entire crowd dabbed at their eyes. My mother cried openly while my father tried to console her. It was Eva's turn.

　　"Ian," she began, "you have been my rock from the moment I met you. You've taught me patience, kindness, and what it means to truly have someone by your side. I promise to keep loving you—not just when it's easy, but when it's hard. You are forever to me, Ian."

　　A sob broke out behind me, it was our nanny. Ian squeezed Eva's hands as the officiant nodded with a smile.

　　"May these vows be more than words," the officiant said. "May they be the foundation upon which your love will stand." He turned to Ian. "Do you, Ian, take Eva to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love her, honor her, and cherish her, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?"

　　"I do."

　　"And do you, Eva, take Ian to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love him, honor him, and cherish him, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?"

　　"I do." The officiant smiled warmly.

　　"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride." Without hesitation, Ian pulled her close and captured her lips in a passionate kiss. As they kissed, my heart swelled. My beautiful, kind sister was finally married to the love of her life. They pulled apart, smiling at each other, then turned to face the crowd hand in hand. I stood and ran to her, hugging her tightly.

　　"I'm so happy for you, Eva. You look so beautiful."

　　"Thank you, Felicia. Your makeup is ruined," she teased.

　　"I know. Can you stop being a big sister for a minute?"

　　"Not when you still act like my little sister."

　　"Touché."

　　I excused myself to find the bathroom. When I returned, everyone was already outside the church taking pictures. Soft hymns played as I joined Eva and Annabel. We adjusted Eva's train while Ian's friends teased him about being married.

　　"Eva, dear, tilt your head a little. Yes, that's perfect!" the photographer called.

　　Eva laughed, her eyes shining, as Ian leaned in to whisper something in her ear. Whatever he said made her laugh louder, and that was when the photographer snapped the shot. Family photos followed, then friends and colleagues joined in. Everyone wanted a picture with the newlyweds.

　　Soon, we moved to the reception. The couple danced, speeches were made, and glasses were raised in celebration. My father stood, his voice thick with emotion.

　　"To my daughter and her husband," he said, raising his glass. "May your love be as unshakable tomorrow as it is today. May it grow, endure, and always bring you home to one another."

　　Glasses clinked, candles flickered, and laughter filled the night. Through it all, I watched the way my sister glowed—the way Ian looked at her as though she were the only woman in the world. After eating to our satisfaction, it was time to say goodbye.

　　"I'll miss you, Eva," I cried, holding onto her.

　　"I'll miss you too, cupcake. But you'll be leaving for college soon, you'll only be minutes away."

　　"I know. Take care of my sister, Ian."

　　"I will," he promised. We watched them drive off after their goodbyes. When their car disappeared from sight, we gathered our things and headed home.