Chapter 8: I Think I Really Like You
1011 Words
Evelyn and I began to be “together.”
That was not accurate.
We never confirmed a relationship.
We made no promises.
We had no future.
We only became more ambiguous.
And more dangerous.
She would hook my finger when no one was in the elevator.
She would tap my documents with her pen when I lost focus in meetings.
When I called her Stepmom, she would tell me coldly to shut up.
Then her ears would turn red when she turned away.
I liked watching her lose control.
But I was becoming unable to tell whether I liked her losing control—
Or her.
Once, my father asked her to accompany him on a business trip.
After I found out, I was in a bad mood the whole day.
Adrian noticed.
“Are you jealous?”
I sneered.
“What would I be jealous of?”
He looked at me silently.
His silence irritated me.
I grabbed my car keys and left.
That night, I went to Evelyn’s apartment.
It was the apartment my father had bought for her.
A large flat in Manhattan.
Beautifully decorated.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, one could see the entire city at night.
When I rang the doorbell, Evelyn had just showered.
Her hair was half dry.
She wore gray loungewear.
When she saw me, she froze.
“Why are you here?”
I walked in and closed the door behind me.
“Can’t I come?”
She looked at me for a few seconds.
“Mr. Sterling may come tonight too.”
Something stabbed my chest.
“So?”
“So you shouldn’t be here.”
I smiled.
“Are you afraid he’ll see me?”
She was silent.
I stepped forward.
“Evelyn, are you afraid he’ll see me, or afraid I’ll see him?”
Her expression changed.
I knew I was losing control again.
But I could not stop.
This was the apartment my father gave her.
She wore soft clothes and damp hair, like a woman waiting for someone to come home.
But the person she waited for should not be my father.
The thought was absurd.
Disgusting.
Painful.
I grabbed her wrist and pushed her gently against the cabinet by the entrance.
“How many times has he come here?”
She frowned.
“Chloe.”
“I asked you. How many times?”
She looked at me and suddenly laughed.
The laugh was faint and cold.
“Miss Sterling, did you forget who I am?”
My hand stiffened.
She said, “I am your father’s mistress.”
Every word was a needle.
Sharp enough to wake me.
Not sharp enough to make me let go.
I stared at her.
“Do you have to remind me?”
“You forgot first.”
There was something painful in her eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that, Chloe Sterling.”
“I’ll believe it.”
Her voice was too light.
It sounded less like a threat and more like a plea.
I released her.
The apartment became quiet.
After a long time, I asked, “Evelyn, when you’re with my father, are you like this too?”
She closed her eyes.
“No.”
“No what?”
“I don’t feel sad.”
I froze.
She said, “When I’m with him, I know it’s a transaction. Transactions don’t make me sad.”
Then she looked at me.
“But you are different.”
I suddenly wanted to run.
She stepped forward.
This time, she held my hand.
“Chloe Sterling, sometimes I really hate you.”
“What a coincidence,” I said. “I hate you too.”
“I hate that you look down on me and still come close.”
“I hate that you are clearly using me, but you make it look real.”
“I hate when you call me Stepmom. I hate when you look at me like that. I hate that you make me feel someone like me could be loved seriously.”
Each sentence made my heart sink.
Finally, she laughed faintly.
“The worst thing is, I know you aren’t real. But I still want to believe you.”
I could not speak.
Evelyn looked at me.
Her eyes were slightly red.
“Chloe Sterling, you win.”
“I think…”
“I think I really like you.”
At that moment, I should have been happy.
Wasn’t this what I wanted?
She admitted it.
She had feelings.
She had lost.
But looking into her eyes, I felt as if something had grabbed my chest.
I almost wanted to say no.
Don’t like me.
I’m not worth it.
But in the end, I said nothing.
Because my phone rang.
It was Adrian.
When I answered, he only said one sentence.
“The old man is making his move.”
I closed my eyes.
“I know.”
After hanging up, I looked at Evelyn.
She looked at me too.
Some things did not need to be spoken clearly.
She was so smart.
She must have sensed something already.
But she only asked, “Are you leaving?”
“Yes.”
She nodded.
“Be careful on the road.”
I walked to the door, then stopped.
“Evelyn.”
She looked up.
I wanted to say many things.
In the end, I only said, “Don’t let my father come here anymore.”
She froze.
Then she smiled.
“Miss Sterling, you control too much.”
“I do.”
She looked at me.
Her eyes softened.
“Fine.”
When I left that apartment, my heart was a mess.
Before the elevator doors closed, I saw Evelyn still standing at the entrance.
Light fell behind her.
She looked beautiful.
And lonely.
At that moment, I realized something.
My father had given her an apartment.
Money.
A path upward.
But she had never truly belonged anywhere.
And I was using the only time she wanted to stop running—
To push her back into the abyss.
- Writer
