Chapter 3

Matthew was two years older than me, and we grew up together.

Back then, all the warmth I couldn't get from my parents came from Matthew.

I wrote every bit of my crush on Matthew in my diary and hid it under my pillow.

One day after school, Matthew and I walked home together like always, but when we walked in, we saw Dorothy sitting on my bed, clutching my diary and laughing to herself.

Flushed with embarrassment, I lunged for it, and in the panic, slammed her out of her wheelchair.

To my surprise, she didn't cry for our parents this time.

Dorothy grinned. "So, you've got a thing for that dumb boy next door, right?"

Maybe I felt guilty for hurting her, or maybe there was still some sisterly bond left. I told her everything about my feelings for Matthew.

I told her how Matthew always had snacks just for me, how he'd sneak the delicious food his mom gave him into my lunchbox, and how he'd pick flowers from the roadside, clumsily calling them my Valentine's Day present.

We made a pact to get into Portts University together and chase a brighter tomorrow.

Dorothy listened, sometimes chiming in with a laugh. "Kid, do you even know what love is?"

Back then, the gentleness in her eyes felt real.

Feeling shy, I threw myself into her arms, and she gently stroked my hair.

For the first time, I realized having a sister was actually pretty great.

However, just a few days later, all kinds of snacks began appearing in Matthew's bag. It was the stuff my mom specially bought for Dorothy.

Whenever my family bought a roast chicken, his lunchbox would have some of it the very next day.

Then, by the river, I saw him crouching in front of Dorothy's wheelchair, letting her place a wildflower crown on his head, and the look in his eyes was more serious than I'd ever seen.

Matthew was still gentle, but I could feel his attitude toward me had changed.

He said, "Ruth, Dorothy has suffered a lot. Even after you pushed her out of her wheelchair, she still stood up for you. She's so kind.

"You're her sister. No matter what, you shouldn't treat her like that."

I tried to explain, but he wouldn't believe me.

I glanced over at Dorothy in the corner, and she shot me a smug smirk.

It was obvious what was going on.

Dorothy and I got into a huge fight. She waited for the perfect moment, and right as our parents burst in, she threw herself out of her wheelchair.

She started bawling. "I was just talking to Matthew, and Ruth got mad and pushed me."

That night, my dad beat me for over two hours. I just gritted my teeth and didn't even cry.

Later, Matthew got into Portts University, just like he'd always dreamed.

My parents made me apply to a local college. They wanted me close to home to look after Dorothy.

On Matthew's graduation day, he ignored everyone else at the airport and went straight to Dorothy, lifting her up in his arms.

And just like that, she even took the only bright spot in my life.

I downed the bowl of clam chowder, tears mixing with every bite.

I didn't have any hospital stuff, so I borrowed crutches from a nurse and tried to go to the convenience store for basics.

It was my first time using crutches. My hands couldn't hold steady, and as I awkwardly made my way out, I tripped and fell forward.

The pain I had anticipated never came. Instead, someone held me.

Still shaken, I looked up, and there was that familiar face.

"Matthew?" I blurted out, still in shock.

Matthew was standing there, carrying a bunch of hospital supplies, his eyes full of concern.

He said, "I heard you call Mr. Shields. Since you're having trouble getting around, I brought you some clean clothes and stuff you might need."

I never expected Matthew to be the one visiting me while I was stuck in the hospital.

"Does your foot hurt?" he asked, helping me back to bed.

"It's not too bad. I can manage," I replied.

Even now that he was with Dorothy, he was always so warm to me.

For a moment, I thought that if we couldn't be a couple, just staying friends like before was fine.

"You need to get better soon," he said, giving me an apple. "Dorothy's dance competition is next week, and you're always the one who does her makeup and hair. She needs you."

The little bit of hope I had instantly vanished.

"Is this all you came here for?" I said, my voice flat.

He didn't answer.

I gave a quiet laugh. Now I got it.

A few days later, the doctor said my foot was okay. With ten to fifteen days of rest, it would heal.

I left the hospital in a cast.

After I got out, I took my three roommates out for seafood stew to thank them for taking care of me.

They helped me along, carried me even, and, bustling, got me inside the restaurant.

The laughter and joy I hadn't felt in forever surrounded me.

Then I looked up and froze at the photo wall. There, in a photo, my parents held Dorothy in their arms.

Ironically, the photo had the words "sweet family" written on it.