I woke up to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains, the warmth of the night lingering in the quiet room. For a moment, I forgot where I was, the memory of last night hazy yet vivid. Then it all rushed back—the kiss, the weight of her presence beside me, and the comforting rhythm of her breathing as she slept.
I stretched my arm across the bed, expecting to find her still there, but my hand met only cool sheets. My heart sank. P'Fah was gone. A pang of disappointment hit me as I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The room felt empty without her, the echoes of our shared moment now a quiet hum in the air.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I grabbed it, hoping for a message, and there it was—a text from her.
"Thank you, lil Kwan."
The simple message stirred a complicated mix of emotions within me. Gratitude, affection, and...something else. Something bittersweet. I stared at the words, rereading them, searching for hidden meanings. Did she mean thank you for last night? For being there? For the kiss?
I threw off the covers and padded out of the room, still holding my phone. Mom was in the kitchen, her back turned as she prepared breakfast.
"Good morning," she said without looking up. "Fah's boyfriend picked her up early this morning."
I froze, the words hitting me like a cold slap. Boyfriend.
"She didn't want to wake you," Mom continued, her tone casual. "She said you looked peaceful, so she let you sleep."
I nodded, trying to keep my expression neutral, but inside, a storm brewed. Daniel. He had come, and she had gone with him. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth, one that no amount of coffee could wash away.
I wandered back to her room, my mind racing. Why hadn't she woken me? Did last night mean anything to her, or was it just a fleeting moment? Did she see me as more than her little sibling? And why did she leave without saying goodbye?
Sitting on the edge of her bed, I replayed the events of the night. The way her lips had moved against mine, the softness of her breath as she whispered those teasing words, the way she had responded, willingly, almost eagerly. It felt real—more real than anything I'd ever experienced. But then, why was she so quick to leave with Daniel?
My hands tightened around my phone as doubt and insecurity crept in. Who was I in her heart? A fleeting comfort? A momentary indulgence? Or did I mean more? And if I did, then what was Daniel's role in all this?
I sighed and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The weight of unspoken questions pressed down on me, each one heavier than the last. Yet, beneath the confusion and frustration, a quiet hope remained—a hope that last night wasn't just a dream, that it had stirred something in her as deeply as it had in me.
Her words echoed in my mind: "Thank you, lil Kwan." Simple, yet they carried a depth I couldn't quite grasp. Maybe, just maybe, they were her way of acknowledging what we shared, of saying she felt it too, even if she couldn't fully express it yet.
For now, all I could do was wait and hope. Hope that in three months, when she returned, we could pick up where we left off. Hope that she would choose me—not as her little sibling, but as someone who could stand beside her, share her burdens, and be the person she needed.
It had been a week since I last heard from P'Fah. No texts, no calls—just silence. Each day stretched longer than the last, and the ache in my chest grew heavier. I found myself constantly checking my phone, hoping for even the smallest message, but none came. The emptiness gnawed at me, and eventually, I couldn't bear it anymore.
Deciding I needed a distraction, I made plans to hang out with Pim, one of my closest friends. Coincidentally, we chose a cafe near P'Fah's university. Deep down, I knew why I'd picked that spot. I told myself it was just for a change of scenery, but in truth, I was hoping for a chance encounter. A fleeting glimpse of her would be enough to ease the longing, I thought.
The cafe was bustling, filled with the hum of conversations and the clatter of dishes. Pim and I found a cozy spot by the window. She handed me the menu, her eyes scanning the room.
"Hey! Isn't that your sister?" Pim said suddenly, her voice tinged with curiosity. She tilted her head towards a table outside, her hand frozen mid-air with the menu extended.
My heart skipped a beat. I followed her gaze and felt the air rush out of my lungs. There she was—P'Fah, radiant as ever, sitting with Daniel. He was leaning over the table, holding out a bouquet of vibrant flowers. I watched as she smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly as she accepted them. Then, as if to twist the knife deeper, Daniel leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips.
It felt like the ground beneath me had crumbled. My heart clenched painfully, the sight almost unbearable. My mind reeled, replaying the memory of our kiss from that night. The way her lips had felt against mine, the warmth and connection we shared—it had felt so real, so significant. But now, here she was, kissing someone else, her face lighting up with the kind of happiness that wasn't meant for me.
I tried to keep my composure, but Pim noticed my reaction. "Are you okay?" she asked, concern lacing her voice.
I forced a smile and shook my head. "Yeah, I'm fine," I lied, my voice barely above a whisper.
But inside, I was anything but fine. A torrent of emotions surged within me— pain, jealousy, confusion. Did that kiss mean nothing to her? Was it just a fleeting moment, easily forgotten? Or had I been fooling myself, holding onto a hope that was never meant to be?
I lowered my gaze, focusing on the menu in front of me, though the words blurred together. The sight of her with Daniel replayed in my mind like a cruel loop, each repetition cutting deeper. Pim, sensing my need for space, didn't press further and instead quietly placed our order.
As the minutes dragged on, I wrestled with the storm inside me. Part of me wanted to storm out, to leave this painful scene behind. But another part, the one that still yearned for her, stayed rooted in place, unwilling to let go.
When I finally mustered the courage to look up again, P'Fah and Daniel were gone. The table where they'd been sitting was empty, but the image of them together lingered, etched into my memory. I let out a shaky breath, feeling both relief and a strange hollowness.
Pim reached across the table and gave my hand a comforting squeeze. "If you ever need to talk, I'm here," she said softly.
I nodded, grateful for her presence, even if words failed me in that moment. The ache in my heart remained, a stark reminder of the complexities of love and the painful reality of unspoken feelings.
That afternoon, while I was still trying to shake off the lingering pain from seeing P'Fah and Daniel together, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Dad.
Dad: Fah is coming home tonight with Daniel for dinner. Try to get home early, okay?
I stared at the message, my chest tightening. Dinner? With Daniel? Of all people? My fingers hovered over the screen as a wave of bitterness coursed through me. What was the point? To flaunt how perfect her life was? To rub salt into the wound she'd already carved into my heart? The kiss we shared that night—it meant something to me. But to her? It was like it never happened. Now, she was bringing him to our family dinner, pretending as if nothing had changed.
I couldn't let her get away with that. If she could play this game, so could I.
Determined, I turned to Pim. She was casually flipping through a magazine, sipping her iced coffee. I leaned forward, my voice low and urgent. "Pim, I need you to do me a favor."
She raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued. "What kind of favor?"
"I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend," I said, the words tumbling out quickly.
Her eyes widened, and she almost choked on her drink.
"Wait, what?" Pim coughed, setting her cup down. "Are you serious?"
I nodded. "Yeah, just for tonight. P'Fah's bringing her boyfriend to dinner, and I... I want to show her that I'm doing fine too."
Pim gave me a skeptical look. "Why do you care what your sister thinks? And why drag me into this?"
I hesitated, not wanting to dive too deep into my complicated feelings. "Let's just say it's important to me. Please, Pim. Just this once."
She leaned back, crossing her arms. "Kwan, this is insane. I'm not going to pretend to be your girlfriend just to make your sister jealous."
I sighed, realizing she wasn't going to make this easy. "What if I buy you that limited-edition Jennie merchandise you've been eyeing? The signed one?"
Pim's eyes lit up for a brief moment, but she quickly masked her excitement. "Tempting, but still no."
"Come on, Pim," I pleaded, clasping my hands together in mock desperation. "You know how much that means to you. And I'll throw in concert tickets if Jennie ever comes to town."
She let out a dramatic sigh, clearly enjoying making me squirm. Finally, she relented. "Fine. But you owe me big time."
"Deal!" I grinned, relieved. "You're a lifesaver."
Pim shook her head, smirking. "This better be worth it. And you better not mess up our story, or your parents will think I'm some kind of fraud."
We spent the rest of the afternoon coming up with a believable backstory—how we met at a friend's party, how we started dating, and little details to make it convincing.
Pim was surprisingly good at coming up with romantic anecdotes, which made me question just how many rom-coms she had watched.
As evening approached, we headed to my house. My nerves were on edge, but Pim kept the mood light, teasing me about how I'd have to act lovey-dovey in front of my family.
When we arrived, Dad greeted us at the door, his eyes lighting up in surprise when he saw Pim. "Oh, who's this?"
"This is Pim, my girlfriend," I said, trying to sound as casual as possible. Pim smiled warmly, giving a polite bow. "Nice to meet you, Uncle."
Dad looked pleasantly surprised but didn't press further. "Come in, come in. Dinner's almost ready."
We entered the dining room, where P'Fah and Daniel were already seated. P'Fah's eyes immediately locked onto mine, then shifted to Pim, her smile faltering ever so slightly. She quickly masked it, but I caught the momentary flicker of something—was it surprise? Annoyance? Jealousy?
"Hi, P'Fah," I said, deliberately keeping my tone light. "This is Pim."
Pim waved cheerfully. "Nice to meet you, P'Fah. Kwan's told me so much about you."
Daniel, ever the polite one, stood and offered a handshake. "It's nice to meet you, Pim. I'm Daniel."
As they exchanged pleasantries, I stole a glance at P'Fah. Her expression was neutral, but her eyes were unreadable. Was she really unaffected? Or was she just hiding it well?
Throughout dinner, Pim played her role perfectly. She laughed at my jokes, held my hand under the table, and even fed me a bite of her food, much to the amusement of my parents. Every time she did something sweet, I caught P'Fah stealing glances our way, her grip on her fork tightening.
By the end of the meal, I couldn't tell who was winning this unspoken battle, but one thing was clear—P'Fah wasn't as indifferent as she wanted to appear.
During dinner, things took an unexpected turn. Halfway through the meal, P'Fah placed her fork down and quietly excused herself. "I'm not feeling very well," she said, her voice soft but firm. Daniel immediately reached for her arm, concern etched on his face. "Do you want me to go with you?"
P'Fah gave him a small, reassuring smile and shook her head. "No, it's fine. Stay and finish dinner with the family. I'll just rest for a bit and join you in the living room later."
She left the dining room, leaving her plate half-finished. I tried not to react, but I couldn't help noticing how distant she seemed, like her mind was somewhere else. Daniel hesitated but eventually sat back down, though his eyes frequently flickered toward the door she'd disappeared through.
After dinner, I helped Mom wash the plates, trying to keep my mind off P'Fah's sudden retreat. But the quiet hum of the kitchen couldn't drown out my thoughts. Was she really unwell? Or was it something else? Something that had to do with me and Pim?
When the last dish was put away, I excused myself and headed upstairs, my footsteps deliberately slow. As I approached my room, I secretly hoped I'd catch a glimpse of her. And just as I passed by her door, it opened suddenly, startling me.
"Kwan," she called out softly.
I stopped, turning to face her. She was standing in the doorway, her expression unreadable, but there was a tension in her voice that immediately caught my attention.
"Yes?" I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral, though my heart was pounding.
She glanced down the hallway to make sure no one else was around, then stepped out of her room, closing the door behind her. Her eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, she didn't say anything. Then, in a voice that was quieter but laced with something unmistakable, she asked, "Who is Pim?"
Her question caught me off guard, but before I could answer, she continued, her tone sharper now. "When did you two get together?"
I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "We've been close for a while," I said carefully. "Why do you ask?"
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something— jealousy? "You never mentioned her before," she said, crossing her arms. "Now suddenly, she's your girlfriend? It doesn't add up, Kwan."
I felt a surge of defensiveness rising in my chest. "Why does it matter to you?" I shot back, though my voice remained calm. "You're with Daniel, right? Why should you care who I'm with?"
P'Fah's jaw tightened, and she looked away briefly, as if gathering her thoughts. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, "Because it doesn't feel right."
Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. I stared at her, my mind racing. Was she admitting something?
I couldn't hold back any longer. The words tumbled out before I could stop them. "Then what feels right, P'Fah?" My voice was sharper than I intended, a mix of hurt and anger bleeding through. "Does kissing Daniel feel right? Does it feel right after what we did that night?"
Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked genuinely startled, as if she hadn't expected me to bring it up so bluntly. The silence between us stretched, thick and suffocating, the weight of my words hanging in the air like a storm cloud.
"Is that what this is about?" she finally said, her voice quieter now, almost trembling. "That night?"
"Yes, P'Fah, that night," I replied, my tone unrelenting. "You kissed me, we kissed, and then you acted like it never happened. Like it meant nothing."
She flinched, her eyes dropping to the floor. "It wasn't nothing," she whispered, almost to herself. "You think I could forget something like that?"
"Then why?" I demanded, my voice rising. "Why did you go back to him? Why are you still with him if it wasn't nothing?"
P'Fah took a deep breath, as if trying to steady herself. "Because…" she started, her voice faltering. She hesitated, and for a moment, I thought she wouldn't answer.
But then she looked up at me, her eyes glistening with a mix of frustration and sorrow. "Because it's easier."
"Easier?" I repeated, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "Easier to be with someone you don't love? Easier to ignore what's right in front of you?"
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "You don't understand, Kwan. It's complicated."
"Then explain it to me," I said, taking a step closer. "Help me understand why you're choosing him over… over us."
Her eyes searched mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw a crack in her defenses. But then she shook her head, her expression hardening. "Because it's safer," she said, her voice firmer now. "Being with Daniel… it's predictable. He's a good man. He can offer me a future that's stable, something our parents would approve of."
"And what about what you want?" I shot back. "What about how you feel?"
"I don't know!" she burst out, her voice breaking. "I don't know what I want, Kwan! All I know is that being with you… it scares me."
Her admission hit me like a punch to the gut. "Why?" I asked, my voice softer now, almost pleading. "Why does it scare you?"
"Because you make me feel things I don't know how to deal with," she said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "With you, everything is intense, overwhelming. It's like standing on the edge of a cliff, not knowing if I'll fall or fly."
I reached out, my hand gently brushing against her cheek. "Then take the leap, P'Fah," I whispered. "We'll figure it out together."
"Figure out what?" P'Fah's voice trembled, her hands shaking at her sides. Tears spilled down her cheeks, but she made no move to wipe them away. "We're sisters, Kwan. You're my sister. How can I be with you? It's already wrong to feel something toward you."
Her words hit me like a ton of bricks, but what hurt more was the pain in her eyes—the anguish she was trying so hard to hide. She wasn't just saying it to convince me; she was trying to convince herself.
"P'Fah…" My voice cracked, but I forced myself to continue. "I know it's not easy. I know how it sounds, how it looks. But you can't deny what's between us."
She shook her head vigorously, as if trying to shake off my words. "I've been trying," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've been trying so hard to forget about that night, to forget how I felt… how I still feel. But every time I close my eyes, it's there. You're there."
I stepped closer, closing the distance between us. "Then stop fighting it," I said gently. "Stop trying to bury something that's too powerful to ignore. I know it scares you, P'Fah. It scares me too. But doesn't it scare you more to think about a life where we pretend this never happened? Where we hide how we feel and live with the regret?"
Her tears fell harder now, and she bit her lip, her body trembling. "Kwan, I don't want to hurt you," she said, her voice breaking. "But this… whatever this is, it's impossible. People wouldn't understand. We wouldn't understand."
"Since when do you care about what other people think?" I countered, my voice firm. "You've always been the brave one, the one who taught me to follow my heart no matter what. Why should this be any different?"
She looked at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear, love, and longing. "Because it's different when it's you," she said softly. "I'm supposed to protect you, Kwan. I'm supposed to be the one who keeps you safe, not the one who confuses you, who drags you into something… something forbidden."
I reached out, gently taking her hand in mine. "You're not dragging me into anything," I said. "I'm here because I want to be, because I can't imagine my life without you in it. Not like this."
Before P'Fah could say another word, Daniel's voice broke the fragile silence. "Is everything okay in here?" he asked, his tone laced with concern as he stepped into the hallway. His eyes quickly landed on P'Fah, and without hesitation, he crossed the room and wrapped her in his arms.
"Babe, what's wrong?" he murmured, his voice tender. "You've been crying. Talk to me."
I stood there, frozen, watching the scene unfold like a spectator to my own heartbreak. Daniel held her close, his hand gently stroking her hair as she buried her face in his shoulder. She didn't push him away. She didn't hesitate. She leaned into his embrace as if it were her sanctuary. The sight of it was a dagger straight to my heart.
In that moment, I felt like an intruder in a life that wasn't mine to claim. Like a ghost haunting a place I didn't belong. My chest tightened, and the weight of everything we had just shared came crashing down on me. She chose him. The words echoed in my mind, a painful mantra that refused to be silenced.
I wanted to scream, to cry, to beg her to tell me it wasn't true. That what we shared wasn't a fleeting moment, a mistake she would bury under layers of normalcy and denial. But the way she clung to him, the way he comforted her—it spoke volumes.
She chose Daniel over me. Over us. Over everything we could have been.
"Babe?" Daniel's voice was gentle but insistent, pulling her back to the present. "What happened? You can tell me."
She pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, her eyes still glistening with tears. "It's nothing," she whispered, her voice so soft I could barely hear it. "Just… family stuff."
Family stuff. That's all I was now—a complication to be swept under the rug.
Daniel glanced at me, his brow furrowing. "Kwan, is everything okay?" he asked, his tone polite but distant, as if I were just another member of the household, not someone who had just bared their soul.
I forced a nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Yeah," I said, my voice hollow. "Everything's fine."
But it wasn't fine. It was anything but fine. I couldn't breathe in that room, couldn't stand the sight of them together. I turned on my heel and walked away, each step feeling heavier than the last. I barely made it to my room before the tears started falling, hot and relentless.
I sank onto my bed, burying my face in my hands as the reality of it all hit me. She didn't choose me. She didn't fight for us. And now, she was out there with him, playing the role of the perfect girlfriend, while I was left alone to pick up the shattered pieces of my heart.
How could she? After everything we shared, after the way she looked at me, the way she kissed me… how could she just turn away like it meant nothing?
The room felt suffocating, the silence deafening. I reached for my phone, my fingers trembling as I scrolled through our old messages. Every smiley face, every shared memory, every late-night conversation—it all felt like a cruel joke now.
I wanted to delete them, to erase every trace of her from my life. But I couldn't. Because no matter how much it hurt, a part of me still clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, she would come back. That she would realize what we had was worth fighting for.
But as the hours dragged on and the house grew quieter, that hope began to wither. She had made her choice, it wasn't me, and I should move on.