Sibling swipe Olivia Mendez Sibling Swipe Olivia Mendez An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi ebookpublications - all material is copyright of the Ovi ebooks publications & the writer C Ovi ebooks are available in Ovi/Ovi ebookshelves pages and they are for free. if somebody tries to sell you an Ovi book please contact us immediately. For details, contact: ovimagazine@yahoo.com no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of the writer or the above publisher of this book Sibling swipe Sibling swipe Olivia Mendez Olivia Mendez An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi ebookpublications - all material is copyright of the Ovi ebooks publications & the writer C Sibling swipe T he sun had sunk low behind the ragged hills, casting a pall of amber over the small town of Milford. The evening breeze, light and un- certain, stirred the curtains of Mrs. Garrett’s modest cottage, bringing with it the distant calls of children playing in the street and the faint clink of plates be- ing cleared from nearby kitchens. In the small, dimly lit parlor, two young women sat in uneasy silence, the oppressive stillness pressing upon them like the weight of some unspoken doom. The clock on the mantel ticked away in rhythmic, unrelenting beats, its sound the only one to break the heavy quiet that had descended upon the room. Olivia Mendez Lydia Cartwright, her dark, raven-like hair cas- cading in soft waves about her shoulders, shifted un- comfortably in her chair. Her stormy eyes, usually so sharp and determined, were now clouded with guilt and apprehension. She glanced at Eleanor, who sat across from her, eyes cast down, her delicate fingers absently tracing the rim of her teacup. Eleanor’s usu- al liveliness was gone, replaced by a pale stillness that Lydia had never seen before. The rosy cheeks that once gleamed with health were now a faint, almost ghostly white. And the voice that had once been so warm, so full of life, was now a mere whisper of its former self. It was Lydia who spoke first, her voice steady but betraying a tremor she could not quite conceal. The words, once they left her lips, seemed to hang in the air like an unspeakable confession. “Eleanor,” she be- gan, her gaze fixed on the dimly flickering fire, “it was never meant to be this way.” Eleanor’s hands, clasped tightly in her lap, tight- ened their grip. She did not look up, nor did she re- spond immediately. Instead, she stirred the tea in her cup, her gaze flicking between the swirling liquid and the empty space between them. Her silence was a storm, brewing beneath the surface, waiting to break. Sibling swipe When she finally spoke, it was with a quiet but un- mistakable firmness, her voice devoid of the warmth it had once held. “You knew,” she said, her words cutting through the silence like a blade. “You knew he was my brother. And still... you chose to be with him.” The words landed on Lydia like a blow. She felt the breath leave her lungs as if it had been stolen, leaving her with a hollow ache in her chest. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding, and for a moment, she could not find the words to answer. Her eyes, betray- ing her inner turmoil, flickered toward Eleanor, only to find her gaze turned inward, focused on the cup in her hands as if it were the only thing that could anchor her to this world. “I never meant to hurt you, Eleanor,” Lydia whis- pered, her voice barely audible above the sound of the clock’s incessant ticking. “I never thought...” “That it would come to this?” Eleanor interrupted, her voice rising slightly, carrying the weight of years of unspoken hurt. Her eyes, once so full of trust, were now glistening with unshed tears. “No, you never thought it would come to this. But it has. And now, what do we do?” Olivia Mendez Lydia’s chest tightened as if the very air in the room had thickened. She leaned forward slightly, her words tumbling out in a desperate attempt to bridge the chasm that had formed between them. “What do you mean?” “I mean,” Eleanor said, her voice trembling but resolute, “this isn’t just about him. It’s about us. Our friendship. Everything we’ve shared, our laughter, our tears. The late nights talking until dawn, the shared dreams, the silly arguments... and now you’ve gone and ruined it all for someone who isn’t worth the cost.” The words stung, each one landing like a slap across Lydia’s face. She recoiled involuntarily, her hands trembling in her lap. She opened her mouth to argue, to defend herself, but no words came. Her tongue felt thick, as if the very truth of the situation had para- lyzed her. She had never imagined it would come to this, to find herself at odds with the person who had been her closest friend for years. Her heart ached with the knowledge that she had torn something ir- replaceable. And yet, despite the sorrow, there was a stubbornness in her chest, a refusal to admit that she had done something wrong. Eleanor let out a shaky breath, her hands shaking Sibling swipe as she placed the cup on the table. “You don’t get it, do you, Lydia?” she said, her voice soft but laced with an undeniable sorrow. “It’s not just about him. It’s about us ....what we were. What we meant to each other. And now, it’s all gone. All of it.” She paused, her eyes searching Lydia’s face as if hoping to find some semblance of understanding. “How could you do this? How could you choose him over me?” Lydia sat frozen, the weight of her friend’s words pressing down on her like a thousand bricks. She wanted to explain. She wanted to tell Eleanor that she had never intended for any of this to happen, that she had not sought to tear apart the bond they had shared. But the words would not come. They sat in her throat, tangled and heavy, like a knot that could not be undone. The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating. Outside, the last rays of sunlight slipped beneath the horizon, leaving the world in shadow. The air grew cooler, and the faint sounds of the village outside, once so familiar, seemed distant, muffled by the ten- sion in the room. Finally, Eleanor stood, her movements slow and deliberate, as if each step took an immense amount of effort. She did not look at Lydia as she turned to- Olivia Mendez ward the door. “I don’t know what you want from me, Lydia,” she said, her voice trembling with emo- tion. “You’ve made your choice. And now, I must make mine.” Lydia stood too, her legs unsteady beneath her, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to stop her, to beg her to stay, to apologize for the hurt she had caused, but the words stuck in her throat, just as they had before. Eleanor paused by the door, her hand resting on the handle. She turned slightly, her eyes searching Lydia’s face one last time. “Goodbye, Lydia,” she said soft- ly, her voice thick with unshed tears. And with that, she stepped out of the room, leaving Lydia standing alone in the dimly lit parlor, the weight of her deci- sions crashing down around her. Lydia stood there for a long moment, the silence around her pressing in. Her heart was a tangled mess of emotions, guilt, confusion, longing, and some- thing darker that she could not yet name. She had chosen Nathaniel. She had allowed herself to fall in love with him, knowing the cost it would exact. And now, in the wake of her choice, she was losing Elea- nor—the one person who had stood by her through everything. Sibling swipe The fire crackled softly in the hearth, its flickering light casting long shadows across the room. And as Lydia stood in that quiet space, the last rays of the dying sun slipping away, she knew that this was only the beginning of something far more complicated. A drama was unfolding, one that none could have fore- seen, where love would not only bring joy but sor- row, and where the ties of friendship would be tested in ways none could bear. The future, uncertain and fraught with danger, loomed before her. The past, once a simple and com- forting thing, seemed more like a dream, slipping away like the last rays of the dying sun. Thus began the tale of Lydia and Eleanor, two wom- en caught in the tides of love and betrayal, where no one, not even they themselves, could say how it would end. Olivia Mendez I. The evening sky was painted in hues of deep or- ange and pale lavender, the last vestiges of the sun retreating over the distant hills as Lydia Cartwright and Eleanor Hayes stepped through the front door of Mrs. Garrett’s estate. The air was thick with the sweet scent of summer flowers and the clatter of laughter that filled the room beyond, a sign of the revelry that awaited them. Mrs. Garrett’s soirées were always the highlight of the season, an event where the town’s finest gathered, dressed in their most elegant attire, to drink, dance, and exchange pleasantries. Lydia and Eleanor had at- tended many such gatherings, and for all their charm and glitter, they never quite lost the sense of familiar- ity, the comfort of tradition. The women entered arm in arm, their steps in sync as they exchanged playful glances. Sibling swipe “It feels like the same crowd as last year,” Lydia mused, adjusting the soft folds of her gown as she surveyed the room. Eleanor, a bit taller and more graceful in her move- ments, laughed lightly. “I’m sure they all look the same, but you’re not wrong. Nothing changes here, not really.” Lydia smiled, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “Perhaps not, but there’s always someone new to look at. It’s a curious thing, this human need for novelty. So much effort to attract attention when we could all just stay at home and drink tea.” “You know, Lydia,” Eleanor said, her voice tinged with a note of affection, “you do like to complain about these things.” “Complaining is a gift, Eleanor,” Lydia replied with a grin. “And it is a gift I intend to use liberally to- night.” They made their way deeper into the room, ex- changing pleasantries with familiar faces, but Lydia’s attention was increasingly divided. Something, or rather someone, had caught her eye. He was standing in the far corner, by the window, a glass of wine in his Olivia Mendez hand, his posture relaxed but deliberate. Nathaniel Hayes, Eleanor’s older brother. Nathaniel had always been the one Lydia had avoided noticing too closely. He was the type of man who made grand entrances, who laughed too loudly at his own jokes and charmed others with the kind of effortless swagger that seemed to annoy Lydia rather than attract her. She had always thought of him as a fool, someone who could not be taken seriously, de- spite the fact that he was undoubtedly a striking fig- ure. Tall, with dark hair that curled just so at the nape of his neck, and eyes that, if she were being honest, could be described as magnetic. It was a look that commanded attention without asking for it. Tonight, however, something had shifted. Per- haps it was the way he stood there, leaning against the doorframe with that casual air of superiority, or maybe it was the sudden awareness in her chest, like a spark catching fire. Lydia tried to pull her thoughts away from him, but he seemed to be everywhere. As she moved toward the drinks table, her gaze inadvertently found his again. He was watching her, his gaze steady and di- rect. She could feel her pulse quicken, but she quickly looked away, willing herself to focus on something, anything, else. Sibling swipe Eleanor’s voice, bright and unwavering, broke through her reverie. “Lydia, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” she said, taking Lydia’s arm as they approached the center of the room. “Mother’s been hinting at a new suitor for me. Perhaps you’ll meet him later.” Lydia tried to concentrate, nodding along as El- eanor continued with her chatter, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Nathaniel. She couldn’t help it. The way his lips curled ever so slightly into a smile when their eyes met, it unsettled her, stirred some- thing deep within her. She had never felt like this be- fore, not over him, certainly not over anyone. She shook her head, trying to dismiss it. Ridicu- lous, she thought. It’s nothing more than a fleeting mo- ment of fascination. But the night stretched on, and the more Lydia tried to ignore him, the more Nathaniel seemed to intrude upon her thoughts. It was when the music picked up, and the guests formed pairs for a waltz, that Lydia found herself inexplicably caught in his orbit. “I was wondering when you’d appear,” Nathaniel said, stepping closer, his voice low but warm. His dark eyes held hers, his gaze now filled with a dif- ferent intensity than she had ever seen before. “Miss Cartwright, I had no idea you were the dancing type.” Olivia Mendez Lydia, caught off guard by his sudden proximity, blinked. “I’m not,” she replied sharply, but her voice lacked conviction. Her heart was racing again, and she cursed herself inwardly. Why must he do this? She had always prided herself on her composure, her ability to hold her own. And yet here he was, ef- fortlessly undoing everything she thought she knew about herself. He chuckled softly, his smile widening in that irri- tatingly charming way. “I don’t believe that for a sec- ond. Surely, every woman has her moments of weak- ness. A dance here, a smile there...” Before Lydia could respond, Eleanor appeared, her presence like a sudden burst of sunlight cutting through the dark clouds of tension that had formed between them. “Lydia!” she exclaimed with her usual cheerfulness. “There you are, off in a world of your own again. Nathaniel,” she added, turning to her brother with a mock frown, “have you been stealing my friend away from me again?” Nathaniel raised an eyebrow, his smile still in place, but there was a knowing gleam in his eyes as he looked between the two women. “I wasn’t steal- ing,” he said with mock innocence. “Merely engaging Sibling swipe in conversation. Miss Cartwright and I were discuss- ing the merits of dancing—or rather, the lack of it.” Eleanor laughed, a little too brightly. “Of course, Lydia is a woman of conviction. I can’t imagine her giving in to something as frivolous as a waltz. Come, Lydia, let’s get a drink before we’re swept away by the tide of frivolity.” Lydia, her cheeks flushed from the embarrassment she tried to suppress, allowed herself to be led away by Eleanor, her gaze lingering on Nathaniel just a moment longer. He was watching her with that same inscrutable look, a half-smile playing on his lips as if he knew something she did not. She was aware, for the first time, of how much his presence affected her. How every glance, every smile, every word seemed to settle into her heart with a weight she could not lift. They moved through the crowd, and Lydia could not shake the feeling that something had irrevocably changed between them. She was no longer sure of herself in the same way. Nathaniel had thrown her world into disarray, and though she tried to dismiss it, to laugh it off, a nagging thought began to worm its way into her mind: Olivia Mendez What if this is only the beginning? And so, as the evening wore on, Lydia’s mind be- came a tempest of conflicting emotions, torn between her longtime friend and her undeniable attraction to the very man who had always been beyond her reach. Sibling swipe II. It was a gloomy afternoon when Lydia found her- self staring at the window, her hands nervously twist- ing the lace of her dress. The soft sound of the rain tapping on the glass was a feeble attempt to drown out the overwhelming silence in the room. She had spent the better part of the last few days avoiding Eleanor’s eyes, as though the weight of her own ac- tions were enough to fill the room with an unbeara- ble heaviness. Each step Lydia took seemed to lead her deeper into the labyrinth of her own regret, and though she tried to push it from her mind, the ques- tion remained: Had it always been inevitable? Lydia had, of course, expected this moment, though not so soon, and certainly not in this way. It had been a gradual thing, a shift, a subtle reconfigu- ration of their friendship, but now, it seemed to have come to a head, and the consequences felt sharp and immediate. Olivia Mendez She had always known, deep in her heart, that El- eanor’s affection for Nathaniel was far more than sis- terly. She could see it in the way her friend’s eyes lin- gered on him when he wasn’t looking, how her voice softened whenever his name was mentioned. But it was so quietly hidden beneath layers of politeness, of camaraderie, that Lydia never truly allowed herself to believe it—until, of course, she had seen Nathan- iel’s smile aimed directly at her. And that smile, oh, that smile, it had changed everything. They had not meant for it to happen. Lydia had told herself, repeatedly, that it could not. She was simply being kind to Nathaniel, a friend of long standing, someone whom she had known since their child- hood days. But, it seemed, he had managed to slide his way into her heart in a way that defied explana- tion, making her question everything about their long and comfortable friendship. It had been a sim- ple moment, a conversation at Mrs. Garrett’s soirée, an exchange of words that carried more meaning than either of them could ever have anticipated—but it had been enough to start the avalanche. There had been no grand declarations, no pas- sionate confessions. Instead, it was the little things. The way their hands brushed as they reached for the