Chapter 7
In mid–September, my mom and stepdad took me to the airport on a weekday. He originally wanted Erik to take time off to send me off, but I declined.
“Erik never liked me anyway, so no need to trouble him.”
I left just like that. In a way, it was probably what he wanted.
Once the plane leveled out, I opened the window shade, but all I could see were clouds–no trace of the ground. The flight was long. I pulled the blanket over myself and dozed off.
Then I had a dream. Of Erik.
He was 14. Someone in the family had told him maliciously that his mom was coming. He ran out, eyes bright with hope–only to see me and my mom standing at the door.
My first impression of him was just gloom. He was pale, skinny, and had a cold stare like he had already decided not to like me.
My stepdad was always busy, and Erik’s biological mom was living abroad. So, I used to think that must have made him really lonely. That was before I found two geckos hidden in my blanket one night.
We had a cold war for most of our teenage years.
I was
My stepdad only ever punished Erik. He was the real son, so discipline was expected. My mom, on the other hand, never laid a hand on me. spoiled.
There was a time I thought about being kinder to him. However, being kind to a guy like him would always turn out badly.
Chapter 7
Like the first time I baked a cake–I offered him a slice, and he dumped it straight in the trash. Or the time I got my first love letter–he ripped it up.
During his rebellious years, he would not say much. He would just glare and repeat one word to me, over and over, “Hate.”
He hated sharing the same house with me. Hated how I always looked innocent, like I had never done anything wrong. So, I got so mad I stopped talking to him for two months.
When high school‘ started, he was the one who finally spoke to me.
His first sentence? That he still hated me, and I should switch classes.
Second sentence? He gave me 30,000 dollars.
“That should do it, right?”
I smiled sweetly. “Sure.”
“But…”
He cut me off, throwing the contract he willingly gave me onto the table, sneering, “How materialistic.”
When I landed in Munich, I rented a little place and started figuring out how to live alone.
At first, I could not handle the classes in German or the bland food. I was moody and homesick.
A week after I left, Erik messaged me, “Left without saying goodbye?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
I stared at the screen for a while before typing.
Chapter 7
“Because I hate you, too.”
“Didn’t think it was worth telling you.”
Before taking his money, I would never have dared say stuff like that. I thought it was pointless to argue with someone so starved for affection. But now?
I was homesick, miserable, and honestly did not care how he felt.
He never replied. Instead, Margo called. She was crying.
“What did you say to Erik?”
I answered casually, flipping through a book. “Nothing.”
“He blocked me everywhere.
I closed the book. “Maybe he drank too much and is throwing another tantrum. Just wait for him to sober up and regret it.”
Then I hung up.
