Ethan's POV
I sat at the dining table, absently twirling a fork between my fingers. The house buzzed with the familiar sounds of family life—the clinking of plates, soft conversation between my parents, and the distant hum of Grandma's singing as she prepared dinner. It was the kind of warmth that should have made me feel at peace, but instead, there was a coldness inside me, a heaviness I couldn't shake.
Across from me, Claire sat quietly, her blonde hair perfectly styled, her posture as poised as ever. On the surface, she looked every bit the successful businesswoman she was. But I knew her too well. Her blue eyes, which had once sparkled with life, now seemed distant, hollow. She smiled when she caught me staring, but it was a smile that didn't reach her eyes—a practiced, empty gesture.
"How was your day?" I asked, trying to break the silence between us.
She glanced up, offering that same polite smile. "Busy, as always. The new collection is taking up most of my time, but it's coming together."
I nodded, sensing the exhaustion she tried to hide. "You've been working too hard. You need to take a break, Claire."
She sighed, her smile faltering just a bit. "I'm fine, Ethan. You know how it is—there's always something that needs to be done."
I leaned forward, lowering my voice so only she could hear. "But you're not fine. I see it in your eyes, Claire. You're hiding behind your work, behind those medicines. You deserve more than this... emptiness."
For a moment, the mask she wore slipped, and I saw the pain she kept buried deep inside. Her voice wavered as she spoke, "Happiness is overrated, Ethan. Love... it's just a chemical reaction, a hormone toxicity that poisons the mind. I've learned to live without it."
I clenched my fists under the table, the frustration gnawing at me. "That's not true, Claire. You deserve to feel alive, not just... existing."
She looked away, blinking back tears that threatened to spill over. "Ethan, I've accepted my life for what it is. I've made peace with it."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I wanted to argue, to tell her she deserved so much more, but before I could, the door to the dining room burst open. Liam strolled in, his usual playful grin plastered on his face, instantly shifting the mood in the room.
"Did someone forget to tell me it's Sadness Monday?" Liam joked, his voice full of mock horror. "Why the long faces? Did the stock market crash, or did someone finally admit that pineapple on pizza is a crime against humanity?"
Grandma chuckled, her voice warm and soothing as always. "Oh, Liam, you always know how to bring a smile to our faces. Come, sit with us. Dinner's almost ready."
Liam dropped into the chair next to mine, his eyes flicking between me and Claire, quickly assessing the tension that still lingered. "You know, Claire, you've got that whole 'tragic heroine' look down pat. Ever thought about modeling? I'm sure my next painting of you could fetch a cool million."
Claire forced a laugh, wiping the corner of her eyes. "And what would you title it? 'The Woman Who Never Sleeps'?"
Liam grinned, nudging me with his elbow. "Nah, more like 'The Queen of Overwork.' Seriously, Claire, you should consider taking a break. Maybe we should all go on a vacation—preferably somewhere warm with no cell service."
As he joked, I couldn't help but notice the weariness in his eyes, the slight droop in his shoulders. Despite the jokes and the easy smile, something was off. Liam wasn't just here to lighten the mood; he was here to escape something.
Grandma leaned over and patted Liam's hand, her voice full of love. "Liam, dear, you always bring such joy into our home. But don't forget to take care of yourself too."
Liam's smile softened, and for a brief moment, the playful mask slipped, revealing the sadness he tried so hard to hide. "Don't worry about me, Grandma. I've got everything under control."
My mother, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up, her voice gentle yet firm. "Liam, if something's bothering you, you can talk to us. We're here for you."
Liam hesitated, his eyes meeting mine for a brief second before he looked away. "It's nothing, really. Just the usual stuff with my dad. You know how he is."
My father, always the voice of reason, nodded sympathetically. "Your father means well, Liam. But if he's being too hard on you, you need to stand your ground. You're your own person."
Liam's jaw tightened, a flash of anger crossing his face. "Yeah, tell that to him. He seems to think he can control every aspect of my life, including who I should date. It's suffocating."
I could see the hurt and frustration in Liam's eyes, and it mirrored the feelings I had toward my own struggles. But before I could say anything, Liam shifted the conversation, his tone lighter but forced. "Anyway, enough about that. Grandma, have I told you lately how much I adore you? You don't look a day over twenty-five. In fact, I'm pretty sure Claire looks older than you."
Grandma laughed, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, you charmer! You always know just what to say. But if you think flattery will get you out of doing the dishes tonight, you're sorely mistaken."
Claire rolled her eyes, her mood visibly lifting as she playfully swatted at Liam. "Liam, if you keep this up, Grandma might start believing you."
Liam grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief despite the lingering sadness. "Well, I only speak the truth. Speaking of truth, I'm going to paint Grandma next. She's got that eternal youth thing going on, and I need to capture it before it fades."
The room filled with laughter, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating as we all fell into our familiar rhythm. But I couldn't help noticing how both Claire and Liam were masters at hiding their pain behind smiles and jokes, much like I did.
As the evening wound down and the family began to drift off, I found myself lingering in the living room, watching as Liam laid his head in Grandma's lap, looking like a child seeking comfort. She stroked his hair, her voice soft and soothing as she talked about her day.
Liam's earlier bravado had faded, leaving behind a vulnerability that I rarely saw. I could see the sadness in his eyes, the weight of the expectations and pressures that had been placed on his shoulders. It was a sadness I knew all too well, one that I saw in Claire's eyes, in my own reflection.
My heart ached as I watched them—my sister, my friend—both of them hiding their pain behind jokes and smiles, both of them pretending that everything was fine. And it hit me, harder than I expected, how powerless I felt. I wanted to help them, to fix their problems, but I didn't know how. And that realization cut deeper than anything else, leaving me feeling cold and empty despite the warmth of the family around me.