**Diary Entry – My Brother’s Wedding**
The sky over the horizon had already turned pink—dawn was breaking. Inside the train compartment, everyone slept except for Rodney, who lay on the top bunk watching the world wake up through the window. Villages and empty station platforms flashed by. Would he really be home soon?
The compartment door slid open, and the train attendant peeked in. “Your stop’s in half an hour. Two-minute halt,” she said before closing the door again. Rodney heard her rousing other passengers nearby. He turned back to the window, but the sunrise had lost its magic. He sat up, swung down lightly, and landed with a quiet thud. The man on the lower bunk sighed and rolled toward the wall.
Rodney grabbed his towel and stepped into the corridor. Most compartment doors were ajar, the air thick with heat. Passengers stirred inside as he headed for the toilet—occupied, of course. Leaning against the window, he exhaled. Four years since he’d been home. No one expected him; he’d wanted to surprise them. Now he wondered if that was a mistake. His pulse hadn’t slowed all night. What would Mum do when she saw him? After Dad died, her health had been fragile. Even happy shocks could spike her blood pressure. He should’ve at least called Michael—let him soften the blow.
Back in the compartment, Rodney dressed, shouldered his rucksack, and double-checked for forgotten items. Then he stood by the window, watching the city skyline emerge. London. He was almost there.
Michael. Mum always used his full name. After Dad’s passing, he’d become the family’s pillar—the one she turned to for decisions. Rodney? He’d always been “Roddy,” the scamp, the wild one. He swore Mum loved Michael more, though Dad had favoured him.
“Who *are* you?” she’d sigh, staring at another school report about his mischief.
“Every family needs a jester,” he’d shoot back, grinning. “Just wait—you’ll be proud of me too someday.”
Michael aced school, breezed into university for economics, and made Mum beam. Rodney? Football, pirate novels, and daydreams of adventure. Their differences grated. When Mum praised Michael, Rodney dug his heels in harder—refusing to follow in his brother’s footsteps, even if he respected his brains.
After Michael graduated, Rodney faked his uni rejection letter. “At least try college,” Mum pleaded. “Or you’ll end up in the army!”
Michael backed her: “Education’s everything. Let’s get you enrolled—”
Rodney cut him off. “Not everyone’s cut out for a desk. Someone’s got to defend the country, eh?”
The army hardened him but gave him mates. One talked him into a construction gig up north. Mum sobbed over the phone; Michael raged. But Rodney stood firm. Why live in his brother’s shadow? Even his clothes were hand-me-downs. No more.
He called rarely, spun tales of success, but never visited. Now, four years later, he was finally heading home. Only now did he realise how much he missed them.
He’d saved enough for a flat, even bought decent furniture—ready to bring a girl home. But love eluded him. The last one, an accountant named Emily, was already married. Heartbroken, he booked leave and fled south.
The train slowed. Rodney stepped onto the platform, adjusting his rucksack. The sun baked the pavement as he walked familiar streets, nostalgia thick in his throat. Michael would still be home. Mum would answer the door, gasp, crush him in a hug—
There. The block of flats. His finger hovered over the buzzer. The lock clicked before he could press it again. Mum blinked sleepily, her dressing gown clutched over her nightie. Then—recognition. She sagged against the doorframe. Rodney caught her, guided her inside.
“You—you should’ve called!” Her hands trembled on his face.
“Sorry, Mum. Wanted to surprise you.”
“Look at you—all grown! Stay for good? Oh, let me put the kettle on—”
In the kitchen, she set out his favourite: a tomato omelette, coffee with milk, cheese toast. He ate greedily while she watched, propping her chin on her hand. A doorbell shattered the moment.
Mum returned with a young woman—bright-eyed, pretty. “This is Hannah, Michael’s fiancée. They’re getting married next month.”
Rodney froze. “*Hannah*? From the second floor?”
Mum shot him a warning look. “Don’t even think about it.”
That evening, Michael arrived with Hannah. Broader now, with a beard. “Still a troublemaker,” he said, pulling Rodney into a bear hug.
Rodney’s gaze kept flicking to Hannah. Their eyes met—held. She didn’t belong with Michael.
Next day, he “bumped” into her. “You’re really marrying him? He’s *boring*.”
She laughed. “He saved me. When my parents died in that crash, then Gran—he handled everything. The funeral, the flat sale… I couldn’t cope.”
“Gratitude isn’t love.”
“I *do* love him,” she snapped, walking off.
He followed her home days later, found Michael’s slippers by the door, his coat on the rack. Jealousy burned.
“Last chance,” he whispered over tea. “Come with me tonight. I’ve got a flat—”
She bit her lip. “I can’t betray him.”
That night, his taxi idled. Hannah’s window stayed dark. Mum watched from above, crossing herself.
At dawn, he lurked outside. A white car, ribbons fluttering. The driver smoked nearby. “Wedding?” Rodney asked.
“Yep. Any minute now.”
Michael emerged with Hannah—radiant in white. Rodney’s chest ached. He stepped forward.
“You didn’t leave,” Michael said, clapping his shoulder.
Rodney ignored him, locking eyes with Hannah. “You don’t love him. Don’t throw your life away.”
Michael spun to her. “Is this true?”
Silence.
Mum gasped. “Rodney—*stop*!”
Rodney pressed. “Her passport’s in your pocket. Give it to me.”
Mum intervened, handing it over. “Just *go*.”
At the registry office, Rodney slid the ring onto Hannah’s finger. Michael never showed.
On the train north, the attendant giggled. “A *train* wedding! First in my twenty years!”
Hannah changed into Rodney’s t-shirt, her dress tossed aside. They talked all night—plans, dreams.
“Here’s where the crib goes,” he said later, gesturing at their bare flat. “Want a girl? With your eyes?”
She laughed. “Right now, I just want out of this dress.”
Michael didn’t speak to him for six years—not until Mum’s funeral. Hannah, pregnant again, stayed home.
**Lesson:** Love’s messy. Sometimes you steal your brother’s bride. Sometimes you’re the villain in someone else’s story. But in the end, fate doesn’t care about fair. It just *is*.
