Tic Toc! Tic Toc!
I looked at the clock; it was already one hour past midnight, but Matt still hadn't returned.
Our relationship was complicated, but worry still filled my heart.
I didn't even know if I could still call him a friend or not, but I didn't want anything bad to happen to him.
He had suffered enough.
My mind couldn't help but keep imagining it.
My heart stung, and my eyes already hurt from crying nonstop.
CLUCK!
Hearing the sound of the door opening, I quickly stood up.
"Matt, are you drunk?"
"Heeeyyy... isn't thisss... hic... my parent's killer?
What... what are you doin' here? Hic...
Th-this is... my house... right? Or... nahhh... hic... don't think so..."
Matt turned around and then stumbled down. I sprinted toward him.
I tried to lift him up, but he was too heavy.
"Wha... hic... what are you doin'!? Hic... why... why are you pullin' me!?"
It took me a lot of effort, but I finally succeeded in putting him on the bed.
"I am sorry… Even seeing me gives you pain like this. I will leave."
I then turned around, but before I took a step, his hand grasped mine and pulled me toward the bed.
"Don't… hic... don't kick me out 'gain, Lulu… hic..."
My heart ached. "You are drunk, Matt…"
I then remembered someone telling me in the past that when people were drunk, their inhibitions fell away, and they would answer questions honestly and even talk about things they normally wouldn't say.
"Matt… do you hate me?"
"Me? Hate you? … hic... yes, I do hate you."
His answer made my heart shake, as if someone had just thrown a bucket of cold water on my face.
'As I thought... There's no way he will ever forgive me.'
"Hic... how could I not? You left me alone…"
In Matt's drunken, vulnerable state, he started pouring out his frustration.
From the start, he never really blamed me for his parents' deaths. What he hated the most was how I didn't trust him.
This made me feel complicated. It wasn't that I didn't trust him; I tried, but my parents just didn't believe me.
What could I do? I was just as young as you, Matt...
But I doubted he would accept this reasoning.
He kept rambling on until he fell asleep.
Throughout it all, Matt didn't release his grasp.
Looking at his peaceful, sleeping face made my heart heavy.
"What should I do now, Matt?"
I mumbled with a tired tone, but no one answered.
And it's not like I was expecting one.
"Wouldn't it be great if we could stay like this forever?"
I moved closer, then kissed Matt on his nose.
This small action somehow made me feel happy. My eyes then locked onto his lips.
I gulped, wondering how they would taste, but soon enough, drowsiness filled my eyes.
I didn't know when, but without realizing it, I fell into slumber.
The night was dreamless. Instead, I felt peaceful for the first time.
The torture, the pain, the grief, the anger—it was like none of it had ever happened.
The next day, I opened my eyes, looking at the strange ceiling.
My mind was still drowsy at first, but I quickly remembered I was now at Matt's apartment.
Turning my gaze, I saw him leaning on the door, his eyes looking at me coldly.
"Since you're awake, go wash up and come here. We'll have breakfast, and then we'll go to the hospital."
"But..."
I wanted to say I didn't have money to pay the hospital bill, and how could I answer the doctor about the cause?
If they found out the real reason, they would call the cops on me.
With their involvement, things would become more complicated.
And I doubted they would help. They would probably want to use me to blame all the bad deeds on my family, then look for a good target to stack their achievements for promotion.
Heck, who knew if one of them was my twin's people?
Even now, I was sure she had sent someone to spy on me.
But I stopped saying more words as Matt's gaze changed to a glare.
I knew if I said more, we would have another fight.
"No buts. I'll wait at the dining table."
I let out a sigh, watching his disappearing back.
I then took a cold shower, letting the water trickle down my scars and wounds.
Weirdly enough, I didn't feel any pain. Considering the state of the wound, it should have been stinging like hell.
'Did she give me some painkillers?'
I looked at my hand but didn't see any injection marks. Well, it's not like I could see it if he injected it a while ago.
Feeling refreshed, I saw breakfast already prepared on top of the table.
Bread with grape jam was my favorite.
My heart beat happily at seeing this, but I didn't let it show.
With his expression, I knew Matt wanted to say something serious. And I could see, other than the meal, there was something else.
A stack of papers.
"Can you stop glaring at me like that? I can't eat."
"Why? I can't glare at you?"
"..."
"Today, you'll have surgery. Sign this."
I took the document and then started reading it while chomping on the bread.
I couldn't help it—I just felt very hungry, and this was also my favorite.
The paper consisted of two things. The first was an agreement on the family assets, which basically said I agreed to give more than half of it to Matt.
The other was a waiver for medical action.
The treatment was for skin grafting and reconstruction surgery.
It detailed how it would be done and the risks.
But my focus wasn't on that. "This operation will cost you a fortune, Matt.
As for this agreement, I don't mind even giving you all of it. But you should know the situation—my words have no weight now."
"That's not your problem. And you haven't finished reading. Read the last one."