I married the right brother. At least that's what I tell myself every night when I look at the ceiling and listen to the clock tick. Bobby is a selfish and irresponsible person. I haven't seen him since the day I married his brother. He ran away from the wedding reception without even saying goodbye. A year later he was called to serve in Korea. He never said goodbye. I never wrote letters. I had to agree with everyone that he either died or was captured. More precisely, I thought so, until one hot summer day, he appeared on the threshold of the house where I lived with his brother. Everyone thinks that I am too cruel with him. Everyone thinks that I don't understand him. Everyone thinks I hate him. But what they don't know is that Bobby already broke my heart once. And I think he's back to do it again.