I was standing in front of the gates of the house, unsure if I should go in. Maybe… no, I shouldn't. I kicked my luggage lightly with my foot. Yes, let's not go in.
Just as I was about to turn away, I heard a voice.
"Payu."
I turned back. It was Tyler, my childhood friend. Even though we had been inseparable once, things had changed since our secondary gender came out.
My lips parted.
"Tyler."
He was breathing heavily, clearly having run to reach me.
"You're not planning on leaving, are you?"
"No, I was just…"
Suddenly, Tyler took my hand.
"Please don't leave."
I noticed his long eyelashes and the way his eyes shone under the lamplight. How could God make a man so beautiful? Maybe that was also why I hated him.
"No, I was planning on going into the house," I said, trying to pull my hand away. But he didn't let go.
"Let's go. You must be cold," he said, picking up my luggage.
He was always so caring. I hated that about him too—the way he always thought of others.
I stepped into the house with him. I had been here as a child with Tyler, but now it felt different. The house itself hadn't changed; only Tyler—and my relationship with him—had.
As I looked around, memories of our childhood washed over me, interrupted by Tyler's voice.
"Payu, will you sleep in my room, or… do you want your own?"
I looked at him. I knew that now, since we were married, we should sleep in the same room, but…
"No. I'll sleep in my own room."
Tyler's face flustered. He clearly hadn't expected that.
"O-oh… okay. I'll tell the butler to prepare your room," he said.
"Hmm."
"I actually prepared a warm bath for you. Since it's late and you must be tired, you can bathe now, and I'll ask the butler to prepare your bedroom in the meantime."
I hesitated for a moment, but all I wanted was sleep.
"Okay."
After I went in the bathroom.I sank into the bathtub. The warm water felt incredible.
Life is so unpredictable. One moment, my life was upside down; the next, I was married to my frenemy. What a joke.
I closed my eyes, remembering the past. The sound of 5-year-old Tyler laughing and calling my name echoed in my mind.
"Payu."
"Payu."
His big smile, his golden hair—so unethically beautiful—floated in my memory. He had once taught me about butterflies.
"Payu, look! These are called butterflies," he had said, pointing to one.
"Aren't they pretty?"
My younger self had been fascinated by the delicate creatures flying in the garden. But even then, what captivated me most was Tyler—his bright blue eyes sparkling like diamonds, his blond hair catching the sunlight. And I had said, looking at him,
"Yes… so pretty."
I opened my eyes. There's no point of even remembering the past anymore.