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This Isn’t a Fairy Tale: You Don’t Always Get the Prince

The silence in the room was deafening as Cynthia stood frozen, her wide, tear- brimmed eyes darting between her fiancé, Carlos, and her sister, Megan. She had barged into the restroom, completely unprepared for the gut- wrenching sight that greeted her. Carlos was now casually zipping up his pants, while Megan coolly adjusted her dress back in place as if nothing at all had happened. The sight burned into her memory, her hands trembling at her sides.

“What... What the fuck is this?” Cynthia’s voice barely came out, quiet and shaky. She knew exactly what she had walked in on, but her mind was struggling to process the reality. It was too much.

Carlos glanced at her with an almost bored expression. He looked completely unbothered, his cold eyes meeting hers without a flicker of guilt. “What does it look like, Cynthia?” His voice was sharp, biting. “You’re acting like you didn’t just walk in on us having sex."

"Are you blind?” Carlos continued.

Her heart raced, a sinking feeling clawing at her chest. She had caught him, and yet… he was turning it on her, making it seem like she was the one being unreasonable. Cynthia swallowed hard, looking at her sister— her own flesh and blood— for some kind of explanation.

“Megan... why?” Cynthia’s voice cracked, her gaze pleading for answers. There was still a part of her that didn’t want to believe it. This was her sister, the one person who was supposed to stand by her, not stab her in the back. “Why would you do this?”

Megan’s face was hard and unapologetic. She shrugged, folding her arms across her chest, barely able to contain a cruel smile. “Why not?” she shot back coldly, her tone dripping with disdain. “I mean, come on, Cynthia. Are you really surprised? Look at him.” She motioned toward Carlos, her voice becoming mockingly sweet. “Tall. Rich. Powerful. Who wouldn’t want that?”

Cynthia blinked, trying to hold back the tears welling up in her eyes. “He’s my fiancé, Megan... how could you?” Her words were soft, barely audible over the growing tension in the room.

Carlos interjected before Megan could respond, his tone dripping with annoyance. “Can we skip the dramatics, Cynthia? Honestly, you’ve always had this holier than thou attitude, thinking you could ever tame a top G like me? — What, you thought I’d only ever want you? Get real.”

Megan sneered, her voice laced with venom. “You really are clueless, aren’t you, Cynthia? You’re so wrapped up in your little perfect world that you don’t even realize what a joke you’ve become.”

Cynthia flinched at the harshness in her sister’s words but didn’t retaliate. She was too stunned, too heartbroken to even form a response. She had always known Carlos had his flaws, but this? With her sister? She couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

Megan stepped closer, her tone condescending and cruel. “What, you think you’re special because you’re his fiancée? Newsflash, Cynthia— you don’t own him. Men like Carlos don’t belong to just one woman. You should’ve known better.”

Cynthia’s breath hitched, her lip trembling as she struggled to keep her composure. “I— I don’t understand... I trusted you— you Megan.”

Megan scoffed, rolling her eyes. “God, you’re so naïve. You act like you’re better than everyone else, but look at you now. You barged in here, catching us in the act, and for what? To cry and play the victim?”

Carlos’s voice was low, a cold sneer on his lips. “You’re pathetic, Cynthia. Always playing the innocent card. Maybe if you weren’t so boring, I wouldn’t have had to go looking elsewhere.”

Tears finally spilled down Cynthia’s cheeks, but she said nothing, standing there like a broken doll. She had done nothing wrong, and yet they were treating her like she was the problem. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, but she couldn’t bring herself to lash out. This was her family— her blood— and the man she loves. She couldn’t even begin to comprehend how they could be so callous, so cruel.

“Carlos,” Cynthia whispered, her voice shaky, “how can you say that? After everything we’ve been through...”

“Everything we’ve been through?” Carlos barked out a harsh laugh. “What, you mean your constant whining and your fragile little ego? God, you can’t handle anything. No wonder you barged in here like some crazy bitch. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Cynthia took a shaky breath, her hands trembling as she tried to make sense of the vitriol being thrown her way. “I didn’t— I wasn’t trying to—”

“Oh, give it a rest, Cynthia,” Megan interrupted, her voice biting. “You walked in here, thinking you’d catch us in some big scandal. Well, guess what? We don’t owe you anything. Carlos doesn’t owe you loyalty just because you’ve got a ring on your finger.”

Cynthia’s knees felt weak as Megan’s words hit her like a sledgehammer. Her sister’s complete lack of remorse, her cruel smile— it was too much. “But we’re sisters, Megan. We’re supposed to—”

“Sisters?” Megan snorted, cutting her off. “You think that means I have to live in your shadow forever? You’ve always been the golden girl, Cynthia. The perfect one. The one who gets everything. Well, guess what? Not anymore.”

Carlos leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold. “You need to grow up, Cynthia. Stop being so fucking naïve. Men like me— guys who’ve made it to the top? We’re not going to settle for just one woman, especially not someone as needy and weak as you.”

Cynthia felt like the walls were closing in on her. Her whole world was unraveling, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Her heart pounded in her chest, the weight of the betrayal suffocating her.

“Look at her, Megan,” Carlos sneered, pointing at Cynthia. “She’s standing there like a lost little girl, crying her eyes out like that’s going to change anything.”

Megan laughed, the sound harsh and cruel. “You’re pathetic, Cynthia. You always have been. You thought you could have it all, didn’t you? But newsflash— you’re just like every other woman. Replaceable.”

Cynthia bit her lip, trying to hold back the sobs threatening to escape. “Megan... please...” Her voice was barely a whisper now, pleading, but it fell on deaf ears.

Megan crossed her arms, shaking her head. “This is what you get for thinking you were above the rest of us. You never deserved Carlos. He’s mine now.”

Carlos chuckled darkly, stepping closer to Cynthia. “Maybe if you’d been a little more exciting, a little less of a prude, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Cynthia stared at the ground, her mind spinning. How had everything turned so upside down? How had she become the one they were blaming? She didn’t recognize the people standing in front of her. It was as if the two people she had trusted most had turned into complete strangers.

Megan sneered at her one last time before turning to leave, her head held high. “Grow up, Cynthia. This isn’t a fairy tale. You don’t always get the prince.”

As Megan brushed past her, Cynthia felt the last piece of her heart crumble. She stood there, staring at Carlos, unable to move.

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