He Mistook My Sister For Me On Meetup Day Chapter 01

He Mistook My Sister For Me On Meetup Day Chapter 01

The day my online boyfriend of seven years, Evan Cross, came to pick me up at the airport, my sister ran ahead in the crimson slip dress we’d agreed on.

Evan froze. Then his eyes went red as he pulled her into his arms.

“Tidecaller. I finally get to see you.”

I started forward, but my mother’s hand clamped down on my wrist like a vise.

“Iris just had the birthmark on her face treated,” she hissed. “She only wants to know what it feels like to be chosen. Give her half an hour. Don’t be selfish.”

But half an hour passed, and my sister said nothing.

On the ride home, she leaned against Evan’s shoulder, using the nicknames I’d invented, telling the stories I’d written across seven years of letters.

Evan caught me staring and frowned.

“Lena, your sister told me you’ve always had a problem taking things that aren’t yours.”

“This is our first real meeting. Can you not kill the mood?”

My mother jumped in immediately.

“Lena, scoot over. Give them some space.”

That night, Iris shoved her phone into my hand.

“He asked why I fell for him seven years ago.” She smiled, all shy and sweet. “You’ve got this one. Answer for me?”

…

I didn’t take it.

Her hand hung in the air, and the smile on her face flickered.

“Are you mad? We said half an hour.”

I looked at her. “It’s been ten hours.”

The living room went quiet. My mother got up from the couch and pressed the phone into my palm.

“You’ve been writing for her for seven years. One more line won’t kill you.”

I blinked.

“What do you mean, writing for her? You all said today that I’m the one—”

“Lena.” My father’s voice dropped. “Do you have to make a scene on Iris’s happiest day?”

Iris’s eyes welled up instantly.

“Forget it. I’ll reply myself.”

She reached for the phone, but her fingers never quite closed around it.

On the screen, another message from Evan popped up.

[Tidecaller? Why so quiet?]

[You used to say there’s always a reason for love. I wrote seven pages for mine. What’s yours?]

I’d read those words a thousand times.

Seven years ago, my parents had their first fight over Iris’s birthmark.

My mother blamed my father’s genes. My father blamed the medication my mother took during pregnancy.

They shattered a bowl against the wall and forgot I was even in the room.

I’d hidden on the balcony and wrote to “Stonehaven.”

I asked why everyone expected me to be strong, to be understanding, to take care of my sister.

Only he wrote back.

[Tidecaller, it’s okay not to be strong. Tonight I’ll stay up with you until dawn.]

I closed my eyes, then opened them and typed.

[That year, everyone told me to be tough. Only you said it was okay not to be. You stayed with me until morning.]

He replied almost instantly.

[You remember.]

[When I saw you today, I thought you seemed different.]

[But when you type, you’re still my Tidecaller.]

Iris stared at the screen, a flicker of confusion crossing her face.

She didn’t know what happened that year. She had no idea what Evan had written to me through the nights.

But then she wrapped her arms around my mother’s and whined, sickly sweet.

“Mom, Evan says I’m still his Tidecaller.”

My mother beamed. “I told you. In real life, he wants you. Your sister’s just better with words, that’s all. Love isn’t about letters.”

I kept my voice low. “Then what was mine?”

My father shot me a look.

“You spent seven years behind a screen without ever seeing his face. How real could that even be? Iris and Evan are together now, and they like each other. Are you really going to get in the middle of them?”

The one who comes between them.

So the day Evan held the wrong girl, I’d already become the other woman.

My phone buzzed again.

A private message from Evan.

[Your sister kept staring at me today.]

[Is she into me?]

I stared at that name on the screen and suddenly had nothing left to explain.

Iris nudged me.

“Come on, answer. Just say I’ve always taken whatever she wants.”

I shoved the phone back into her hand. “Then say it yourself.”

That night, I didn’t reply to Evan’s goodnight for the first time.

But through the thin walls, I heard Iris whispering to my mother, giddy with excitement.

“What about later, when he asks about the past?”

My mother didn’t hesitate.

“Ask your sister.”

“She’ll know what to say.”

“She was always so easy to handle. The most understanding one.”