Chapter 2

I did something dumb again.

Why was I even expecting an idiot to think like a normal person?

Wendy let go of my shirt and, with a secretive grin, pulled a handful of bills from her pocket, holding them out to me like she was showing off some hidden treasure.

Wendy said, eyes shining, "Money, Ryan.

"They gave it to me.

"I want you to have it, so you don't have to work so hard."

When I saw that desperate need to please in her eyes, it struck me hard.

It hurt to breathe, my chest aching as all the years of pent-up resentment and humiliation came crashing down on me at once.

"Money? You'd throw your life away for this measly money?" I said, my voice trembling with anger.

I let go of her arm, and she swayed, nearly collapsing to the ground.

I shouted, my voice shaking with rage, "You went into an alley with a stranger just for some cash? Are you really that low?

"Did you forget why I ended up in jail back then?

"It was because I saw you cornered by that spoiled rich brat in the woods. That's why I snapped and hurt someone.

"I could've gone to a top university out of state, I could've had a better life.

"And now? I'm stuck in this crappy rented apartment, weighed down by you, every damn day."

Wendy shook her head desperately, her eyes brimming with tears.

It brought me back to that year when she was twelve, and the principal's kid from my class tricked her into the woods.

By the time I heard about it, everything was already ruined.

She looked just like a shattered doll, tossed aside on the ground.

And the jerk who hurt her was still there, smirking and taunting me.

He said, "Ryan, you sure have a sister. I just told her I'd be your friend and stop picking on you, and she just rolled over and let us do whatever we wanted."

Everything else faded away. I couldn't hear a thing.

By the time I snapped out of it, the pocket knife in my hand was already buried in his gut.

That day, Wendy shattered her own life and took my future down with her.

She said, "Ryan, I'm sorry."

Her eyes filled with tears, shimmering on the edge of falling.

Wendy reached out, trying to hug me, just like she used to when we were kids.

But before her hand could even touch my shirt, I shoved her away, hard.

"Get lost," I said.

She hit the ground hard, scraping her elbow, and whimpered like a wounded animal.

She was so scared of making me angry that she didn't even dare to cry out loud.

For a moment, I felt a pang of sympathy for her, but the exhaustion weighing me down was even stronger, so deep it felt like it was carved into my bones.

I didn't bother helping her up. Knowing she couldn't really understand me, I just let all my frustration pour out.

I said, "Wendy, I honestly regret ever sticking up for you. Someone like you ruined my whole life.

"You're just worthless. Sometimes I wish Mom had never picked you up off the street."

Wendy just stared at me, her eyes empty, big fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

She looked like she got it.

But I knew she didn't. After all these years, she still couldn't figure out how to turn on the stove or take a shower by herself. She was always like a five-year-old, no matter what.

I steeled myself and turned my gaze away, afraid I'd let my heart melt for her again.

"If you don't want to go without dinner tonight, then move it and keep up," I said coldly.

Along the way, I kept glancing over my shoulder to make sure she wasn't getting lost.

When we got home, I locked myself in my room. Before I knew it, the floor was littered with cigarette butts. When I finally ran out of smokes, I picked up my phone and called Vivian.

I said, my voice steady but cold, "Vivian, I've made up my mind. I'm done looking after her.

"You were right. I can't let her drag me down for the rest of my life."

Vivian burst into tears of joy. She said, "Ryan, you finally came around. You should've done this ages ago."

"Yeah, once I get things sorted out, I'll come find you," I said.

After hanging up, I went out and bought a whole bag full of Wendy's favorite snacks.

Then I headed to the kitchen and cooked up a bowl of her favorite pasta with bolognese.

Watching Wendy dig into her food, totally relaxed and defenseless, my chest hurt so bad I could barely breathe.

I grabbed my coat and headed for the door, but out of the corner of my eye, I caught Wendy setting down her fork.

She stood up, smiled softly, and gave a little wave as I walked away.

My chest tightened. Was she really thinking I was just heading out for a while, like I always do?

But she didn't know; this time, I wasn't planning on coming back.

I clenched my jaw and shut the door, not daring to look back at her.

Around ten that night, I got a call from the hospital. Wendy had been admitted.

Vivian and I rushed to the hospital.

The doctor told us Wendy ended up with a lung infection after falling into the river.

The doctor said, "The witnesses said it wasn't an accident. It seemed like she jumped in herself."

Those words nearly broke me.

Seeing her frail little body lying in that hospital bed, all my anxiety and fear twisted into a despair that felt like surrendering to fate.

"Wendy, you're the bane of my existence. Am I really never getting rid of you in this lifetime?" I said, my voice rough.

Breathing hard, I wasn't sure if I was talking to her or just to myself.

I said, "Alright, Alright, I give in, okay? I'm done running. If I'm stuck with you for life, so be it. Can you please stop putting me through all this?"

Just then, Wendy's eyelashes fluttered a few times, and she slowly opened her eyes.

When she saw me, her usual smile was nowhere to be seen; instead, she tried to sit up, fighting against her weakness.

Before I could even react, she ripped the IV out of her hand and, barefoot, staggered out of the hospital room, nearly tripping over herself.

"Stop right there," I shouted, instinctively running after her.

She kept calling out, "Ryan." Her voice slurred as she continued out of the room.

I shouted, grabbing her arm, my voice raw with anger and confusion, "Wendy, are you ever gonna stop making trouble for me?

"Is making my life hell the only thing that'll make you happy?"

Vivian caught up and grabbed my arm. She said, "Ryan, just let her go. You've taken care of her for over ten years. You've done more than enough."

My grip on Wendy's arm loosened without me even realizing it.

Yeah, I already decided to give up on her. So why couldn't I just let her go?

But in the very next moment, I couldn't hold back. I rushed after her, snatching up a mop handle from the corner.

"I'm warning you, run again, and I swear I'll break your legs," I said.

Even though my words sounded cruel, inside I was desperately hoping she'd just stop.

But she acted like she didn't hear me at all, just kept shuffling forward, one slow step after another.

I closed my eyes for a second, then swung the mop hard at her leg.

With a dull thud, her leg buckled, and she crashed to the floor.

"Listen to me. Get back to the hospital and heal up," I shouted.

I was gasping for breath, my hands shaking so badly that I could barely hold onto the mop handle.

I thought she would break down, cry, and grab my sleeve like she always did, pleading with me for mercy.

But instead, she just lay there, clawing at the floor with both hands, inching herself forward bit by bit.

I totally lost it, flung the mop aside, and just froze, and then it hit me; she wasn't even trying to run away.

Vivian came over and said gently, "Ryan, let it go. Give her a break, and give yourself one, too."

Just then, I heard Wendy's voice, faint but clear. She called out, "Ryan."

I rushed over and crouched down beside her.

Wendy lifted her head and pointed at a building not far away.

I looked in the direction she was pointing.

It was a care facility, old and pretty run-down.

"Ryan, I want to stay there," she said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.