Chapter 3
Raine never returned.
Maddox called him, worried something had happened.
After hanging up, he cursed: “That asshole ran off to prepare a welcome dinner for Jade the moment he got her call. What’s wrong with him? It’s the middle of the night!”
Everyone laughed except me.
Perhaps because I was there, the party broke up early.
Maddox had drunk quite a bit, and I struggled to get him into the passenger seat of the convertible.
He was unusually talkative, slurring about childhood memories.
“You were so tiny back then. Now look at you, all grown up and driving your brother around.”
I focused on the road, not responding.
Seeing I wasn’t engaging, he continued rambling: “Why so quiet? Always been such a closed book. You’re the same age as Jade, grew up in the same environment, but you’re complete opposites.”
The mention of her name made my fingers tighten on the wheel.
“Lyra, you’re my sister. You can be difficult, throw tantrums, and do whatever you want.”
After saying this, Maddox turned his head and seemed to drift off.
My memories involuntarily returned to childhood.
I had always been this way–never difficult, never demanding.
People call Maddox overprotective, always watching out for me. But the truth is, we weren’t always close.
I don’t blame him–I wasn’t an easy child to love.
Especially with Jade around–cheerful, adorable Jade who made me seem dull in comparison. Everyone favored her–Maddox did, and Raine did too.
They took Jade to play video games, catch fireflies, climb trees for fruit, but never asked if I wanted to join.
Even their nicknames showed the difference–she was the affectionate “Jadey,” while I was the formal “Lyra.”
And Jade would manipulate them into playing house with her. She was the princess; they were the princes, knights, and dwarfs.
What was I? “Lyra,” she’d say, “there can only be one princess. You can be the servant.”
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— Stala the Spotlight
Chapter 3
I was always just the forgettable background figure until Raine noticed me.
When I was ten, Jade became obsessed with a drama scene where characters buried wish bottles to dig up years
later.
The boys helped her buy paper, pens, and dig holes. I stood behind them, head down, not speaking.
I wanted to write a wish bottle too. But no one asked me.
They pinched Jade’s cheeks, teasing her for being childish, yet diligently filled the hole with dirt.
Even Maddox assumed I was standing at a distance because I wasn’t interested. But I was afraid that if I got too close and was still ignored, it would hurt more.
But Raine noticed. Crouching on the ground, he looked up and saw my reddened eyes. Understanding my discomfort, he suddenly called out:
“Lyra, do you want to write one too?
“Girls like these things, right? I can dig one for you.”
Jade naturally attracted affection, carelessly enjoying everyone’s attention.
But I was different. The tentative look in Raine’s eyes when he extended that olive branch is something I’ll never
forget.
Throughout those long youthful years, occasional kindness and care gradually accumulated, becoming a young girl’s unspoken love.
He was right–I knew he’d had feelings for Jade.
His favorite cello solo was from her 18th birthday recital.
The dish he practiced for months was her favorite meal.
In those old, distant memories, his gaze always followed her. And I was always silently watching from behind.
But he was too wonderful–both the childhood version who showed me kindness and the later confident young man were too perfect to resist.
I couldn’t help falling for him.
After Jade went abroad, he was depressed. To cheer him up, Maddox often brought him to our house for dinner and
games.
I’d find excuses to bring fruit, ask for help with math problems, constantly entering Maddox’s room to see him. Our interactions gradually increased.
I became greedy, praying he might develop feelings for me over time.
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Chapter 3
Finally, my sincerity moved heaven, and his eyes gradually softened when looking at me.
Until two years ago, when he blushed and softly asked:
“Lyra, should we give this a try?”
Suddenly, his gentle expression from memory overlapped with his cold face tonight.
“Don’t act like you didn’t know I had feelings for her. Why are you pretending now?”
My vision blurred with tears. I wiped them away forcefully, but when I could see clearly again, it was too late.
We crashed into the car ahead of us.
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.