Chapter 3Years Gone By

I agreed. I became the tool she used to provoke Wyatt.

I spent almost the entire winter break with her. At parties, she would gently wipe the beer foam from my lips. When she lost at truth or dare, she would laugh and take the penalty drink for me, declaring that no one was allowed to bully me. On snowy nights, she would walk me home, her umbrella tilted toward me even as snowflakes collected on her own shoulders.

When I caught a cold, she took me to the clinic, registered me, and stayed with me while I got an IV drip. Watching her rush around, something in my heart stirred. There were moments when I almost believed she really was my girlfriend.

One evening, at a fancy restaurant, she mimicked a couple at the next table. "I want a scarf that you knit yourself," she said.

Her tone was casual, but I took it to heart.

I started secretly gathering materials. I was clumsy, knitting and unraveling, unraveling and knitting, until parts of the yarn lost their elasticity and the stitches became crooked.

At first, Wyatt didn't care. He couldn't believe Seraphina would actually fall for someone like me—ordinary, plain, completely unremarkable. But as the break wore on and she continued to ignore him, he started to panic.

At a bar, her friends started jokingly calling me her boyfriend. Seraphina casually pulled down the collar of her shirt, revealing a temporary tattoo on her collarbone: the initials of my name. Everyone gasped, saying she had finally fallen for real.

In that moment, something in Wyatt snapped. He grabbed a beer bottle and smashed it over my head, the butterfly tattoo on his wrist trembling. "Asher Grant, who the hell do you think you are? You think a poor kid from the sticks is worthy of stealing her from me?"

Crimson blood trickled down from my eyebrow into my eye, turning my vision red. But I could still see her clearly. Seraphina, a faint smile on her lips, her eyes locked on Wyatt. She was desperately trying to hide the pain in her eyes. This was what she wanted: for Wyatt to feel regret, to go mad, to lose his mind completely.

Just as Wyatt was about to break, Seraphina finally dropped her act. She pulled him into a fierce embrace, her lips finding his in a restrained, desperate kiss. "It was a temporary tattoo, you idiot. Did you really believe it?"

No one cared about me, the guy with a head full of blood. The same people who had been calling me her boyfriend were now cheering for their love. I quietly slipped away with the other rich kids, leaving them their space.

After getting my head stitched up, I buried the half-finished scarf in the deepest part of my closet.

Seraphina didn't contact me for the rest of the semester. She had probably forgotten I even existed. She and Wyatt seemed to be getting closer. Sometimes in class, I would see her on a video call with him. The way she looked at him was always so gentle. Because of the time difference, he was usually in bed, looking like a lazy, noble cat. For some reason, my heart ached.

I remembered a time we were lying on the grass, looking at the stars, and she suddenly said, out of nowhere, "I wish it could always be like this."

I was confused. "Like what?"

She went quiet, and after a long moment, she just shook her head and said it was nothing.

Later, my dad's medical bills became urgent. My sister's advanced salary wasn't enough to cover everything. Desperate, I remembered that Seraphina still owed me my final payment. So I worked up the courage to find her at her usual bar.

She seemed to be fighting with Wyatt again. She was shrouded in darkness, the air around her chillingly cold. She told me she needed me to play a part one last time.

So I did. I staged my own kidnapping.

The media reported on Seraphina's dramatic rescue, her deep affection and concern for me plain for all to see. She had successfully provoked Wyatt again. And I got the money to pay my dad's medical bills.

Two weeks later, she handed me a birthday invitation. I took it, my mind racing, trying to figure out what kind of gift to get her. She seemed to have everything. I couldn't afford anything expensive, and she would look down on anything cheap. My gaze eventually fell on the unfinished scarf.

When I presented it to her at her birthday party, the room fell silent, then erupted in jeers.

Seraphina didn't laugh.

I started to withdraw my hand in embarrassment, but she grabbed my wrist. "Thank you. It's beautiful. I love it."

It wasn't until much later that I realized this was probably just another performance for Wyatt's benefit.

The next day, it was pouring rain. Amidst the claps of thunder, I received a phone call.

"Is this Asher Grant? Is Clara Grant your sister? There was an accident at the construction site. She was gone by the time she got to the hospital. We need a family member to come sign the papers..."

The foreman said her safety rope wasn't secured properly during high-altitude work.

I didn't believe it. My sister was never that careless. I tried to ask for more details, but the construction company paid out fifty thousand dollars and closed the case.

I held the money, feeling numb, the tears not yet coming. At the same time, my dad found out about my sister. At the hospital, he hesitated for a long time before his voice trembled. "The doctor said it's terminal. The medicine isn't working anymore. Asher, I'm done with treatment."

I refused, insisting he stay. But he started packing his things and walked out without looking back. At the hospital entrance, I fell to my knees, blocking his path. "Dad, I'm begging you, please get treatment! You're all I have left! I'll pay for it, no matter the cost! I'll drop out of school, I'll work, I'll get the money!"

"Clara is gone! I don't want to live without you, don't you understand?"

"I'm begging you, on my knees!"

Passersby stopped to watch, shaking their heads with pity. In a hospital, scenes like this were a daily occurrence, nothing out of the ordinary.

Three days after handling my sister's funeral, I went to the university to withdraw.

And that's when I overheard Seraphina talking about throwing away my pathetic scarf.

Penny gasped. "How could that happen..."

The wind chimes at the entrance jingled as a cold draft swept in. I fell silent, discreetly wiping a tear from the corner of my eye.

Before I could say "welcome," a pair of rain-splattered high heels entered my line of sight.

"Asher... is it really you?"