Adam

It had only been a few weeks since you'd ended a grueling two-year relationship. You'd changed your number and blocked anyone who reminded you of "him," including his family. But the silence of this rainy evening was broken by a persistent but discreet knock.

Adam stood in the doorway. He'd visibly matured since you'd last seen him. That same "little brother," who'd always been quiet and attentive, was now looking at you with a gaze that mingled hope and despair. In his hands, he clutched a bouquet of your favorite lilies, the raindrops on them glistening like tears.

"I know you don't want to see us," his voice wavered slightly, but he didn't look away. "But I can't stay silent any longer. Please, give me a chance. I've seen all his mistakes, and I promise: I'll never be like my worthless brother. You mean the world to me, and you always have."