My Almost

Freja’s Confession.

Uffe,

I once wished you were merely the maid’s son. Unbound by our father. Just… the result of a maid and a bodyguard’s affair, raised in the Manor like one of the household staff.

Not my brother.

Not of my blood.

Not a Vajirasen.

When you were born, I despised you. 

Resented your very existence.

Yet, you showed kindness.

In our teenage years.

During your romance with Lotte, that unremarkable girl with no status.

I barely knew you, despite sharing the same roof.

You found joy in the simplest of things, loved with depth, and chose her above all else.

She was your universe, and we were cruel �" ridiculing you, convinced that she was all you could get.

That you were beneath someone of higher standing.

However, I never foresaw the day that I would yearn to be an ordinary girl.

Not your sister.

Not of the same blood.

Not a Vajirasen.

I was the Vajirasen s**t.

The troublemaker.

The one in need of correction.

When my boyfriend and I parted ways and I isolated myself for days, you sat outside my bedroom door, slipping notes beneath it.

Gradually… I began to respond. The day I finally opened the door, you remarked that I looked dreadful. I shot back, "Right back at you," but then you opened your arms, and I embraced you; your small frame in my arms felt forbidden, your voice softly telling me I deserved better. 

I was irritated because you hardly knew me, yet you insisted, "I do know you, you’re my beautiful sister, a different kind of beautiful." I playfully flicked your forehead and called you "Ugly." 

You didn’t flinch; instead, you smiled and took my hand, leading me to the kitchen where we had a bake-off that evening. Laughter echoing through the kitchen �" a rare sound in the Manor, yours and mine.

Then you baked a heart-shaped sponge cake for Lotte and crafted a diamond-shaped one for me. I understood the significance of the heart shape, but when I inquired about the diamond shape, you replied, "A Diamond for my beautiful sister to remind her of her worth," 

And that’s when I grew confused about my feelings for you.

It felt sinful.

I observed the way you cherished Lotte. 

Unable to bear her presence, envious of the ordinary girl. 

Then, upon discovering Yuj Yees, how you love her unconditionally. 

How she made you feel utterly unlovable. 

How I couldn't fathom why she failed to see you as I do, how fortunate she was to be some other aristocratic girl unbound by blood to you. 

I married at twenty-one �" not out of love,

But because I was a problem to be solved.

Not a person to be understood.

I watched you and Lotte fall apart.

I told myself she was the luckiest girl alive �" but maybe I misjudged you.

Maybe you weren’t perfect.

Then my own marriage collapsed even faster.

Upon my return home, none of our siblings wished to associate with me. They treated me as if I were the specter of the Vajirasen family. 

Mother declared I was a disgrace. 

But you… You defended me. You told her I was merely surviving. That I wasn’t shameful �" it was human. 

And she scoffed. Stated, Then perhaps, you should wed your sister, if you care so much. 

Everyone erupted in laughter. 

You fell silent. 

You exited the table. 

I wanted you to say it.

That maybe she was right.

That maybe... You should marry me.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it, in some selfish way, it was during the time you and Lotte fell out, I thought maybe…

That flick of hope, the hugging you from behind, the confession, the tears, the way you gently took my arms off your waist.

Told me I needed rest.

Said I wasn’t thinking clearly.

Made me feel like I was crazy.

Like you didn’t understand the ache behind my words.

How I have loved you since I was seventeen.

Not as your sister.

Not as someone of the same blood.

Not as a Vajirasen.

I am not confused by what I feel.

In desperation, I asked Mother �"

Would she ever allow me to marry you?

She struck me.

Called me despicable.

Said I wished to sleep with my own brother.

And perhaps I am.

It’s not something I don’t already know.

I’ve watched other girls be loved by you.

It hurts. 

So much.

Because it’s taboo.

Because it’s impossible.

Because it is wrong.

Because I merely thought...

If you weren’t my brother �"

You’d be...

My Almost.