Chapter 3

This was the relationship between Asher and me. You could call it a romance or a transaction of interests. I was probably the most obedient woman around him. After all, my dad needed his family. Since high school, I've been constantly reminded, "Take good care of the young master of the Asher family." I carried his backpack, did his homework, and cleaned up his messes. He went from rejecting me and ordering me around to later secretly beating up an older guy who harassed me. I thought I was special. I watched him grow into a handsome and charming young man. Watched as countless beautiful girls surrounded him. Watched him, even after hanging out with one or several of them the day before, proudly drape his arm over my shoulder the next day. "Remember, this is my sister." His hand was so warm it almost burned me. I watched as my heart sank, yet I had to hide it carefully. Until that night when he got drunk and called me to pick him up. It was hard to get the drunk cat home, and just as I was about to leave, he reached out and grabbed me. He squinted, half-awake, looking at me with deep affection. "Mimi." When his kiss landed, I didn't push him away. No confession, no flowers, just pain. But I savored it. I didn't expect that the next morning, when Asher woke up, he looked at me with such disdain. "Mabel, you really are..." Really what? I sat up in confusion, not even having time to feel shy as Asher went straight to shower, change, and leave. The door slammed with a loud "bang," and he didn't even glance at me. I sat on the bed for a long time, not knowing what I had done wrong. Later, I found out. The day before, my dad begged him to invest in our family's struggling company. Much later, I learned that he was calling out for Nora. He didn't love me. That bit of girlish affection died before it even started. From then on, he only called me sister. As if it was a kind of exclusive humiliation from him.