Chapter 2

2: 2

Tim's voice was soft enough to drip.

"Don't say that. Love doesn't run on who came first. Real love isn't a crime."

"If you have to blame someone, blame me. I was the one who fell for you first. It has nothing to do with you."

"But Nora is my best friend..."

"Don't worry about her."

He cut her off, coaxing gently,

"There. If you're still upset, I won't go back to my room tonight. I'll stay here with you."

Renata paused, hesitant.

"Won't that be bad? If Nora finds out she'll be angry. I don't want to hurt her."

"What's bad about it?"

Tim laughed once, his tone matter-of-fact.

"Everyone knows I'm your boyfriend now. Spending the night with my own girlfriend is only natural. I know how to handle Nora."

Then came the rustle of fabric.

Muffled little gasps tangled with the sound of slow, lingering kisses.

I stood outside the door, my hand clenching tighter and tighter.

The cold of the glass crept from my fingertips into my chest until my whole body shook.

Without a sound, I went back to the guest room.

The water in the cup went cold, all night long.

At breakfast the next morning, Tim sat beside Renata, head bent as he peeled a soft-boiled egg for her.

He used to say peeling eggs was a hassle. Every time, I was the one who peeled his and set it in his bowl.

So it turned out it was never the hassle. It was just the wrong person.

"Here, open up."

He held the egg to Renata's lips, and she obediently opened her mouth and ate it.

A crumb caught at the corner of her mouth, and he reached over and gently wiped it away.

Only when all that was done did he look up at me.

His tone was as flat as if he were addressing a roommate.

"Renata wants fresh-squeezed orange juice. Go make some. Her eyes make things hard, and the juicer isn't safe for her."

My grip on my chopsticks tightened.

I didn't say anything. I got up and went to the kitchen.

When I came out carrying the juice, Renata was feeling around for her cup.

I had just set the juice down beside her hand.

Her wrist suddenly tipped.

The whole glass spilled straight out, most of it splashing onto me.

Cold juice soaked through the fabric and clung to my skin, and I shivered.

"Ah! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

Renata scrambled to her feet, hands flailing, nearly knocking the porridge off the table too.

"I can't see, I didn't get a hold of the cup..."

"Nora, are you okay? It's all my fault, I'm so clumsy."

Tim shot up at once, steadying Renata first, terrified she'd fall.

Only after making sure she was fine did he turn to me with a frown.

"What is wrong with you? You can't even set a glass down properly? Renata can't see. Was it too much to hand it right into her hand?"

"She knocked it over herself."

My voice was very quiet, my chest tight and aching.

Tim actually laughed in anger.

"Nonsense. It's because you didn't put it in her hand that she had to feel around and knock it over. Wrong is wrong. And you're still talking back?"

"Enough. Go change your clothes. Don't stand here making a face at Renata."

Renata tugged at his arm, sniffling softly.

"Bob, stop. It's all my fault. If only my eyes weren't blind, I wouldn't be such a burden to you both..."

Tim's voice went soft at once, patting her back to soothe her.

"It has nothing to do with you. She's the one being difficult. Don't take it to heart."

I stood where I was, watching the two of them play off each other, and suddenly I almost wanted to laugh.

I didn't argue anymore. I turned and went to my room to change.

Once I'd changed, I came back out and stood in front of Tim.

"There's something I want to say to you. Let's talk."

Tim froze for a beat, before he could speak.

Beside him, Renata suddenly clutched her chest and let out a muffled moan.

"Bob, I can't quite catch my breath... my head is so dizzy."

Tim forgot all about me on the spot.

He bent down, swept her up into his arms, and strode toward the room.

As he passed me, he didn't spare me a single glance.

"Why didn't you say something sooner if you felt sick? I'll take you back to rest."

"Did you not take your medicine on time? You're always so difficult. How am I supposed to stop worrying?"

My outstretched hand froze in midair, then slowly drew back.

Over the next few days, this same act played out every day.

Every time I wanted a chance to have it out with Tim, Renata would run into one trouble or another.

The chance kept landing right in front of me, and kept slipping out of my hand.

After more than a dozen failed tries in a row, I gave up.

The world of adults isn't black and white.

And not every question is meant to have an answer.