Harry went silent for a long time. Then his voice sounded on the other side of the phone. With a weary sigh, he finally relented. "Fine! At least if you come with me, I can keep an eye on you. You’ve been through enough already, losing your parents so young. Pack your things. We’ll leave in three days.”
After Harry hung up the phone, I stared at my phone's lock screen, lost in thought.
It was a photo of my Auntie and me. In the picture, my nineteen-year-old Auntie looked dazzling, even when she was as a roadside barbecue stand.
She was standing tiptoed with mischievous look on her face as she tried to pour beer into my cup. Meanwhile, a nine of year old me was trying desperately to stop her. We both had scratches on our face. Behind us, people were watching our antics on the background with smile in their faces.
That was the moment that I would always remember.
Back then, I was still in elementary school. I was teased mercilessly for being an orphan. One day, the taunts escalated into a fight and the other kid’s parents humiliated and even hit me.
When Auntie found out, she stormed into the school without hesitation and avenged me on the spot.
As I recalled the memory now, the emotion that I had managed to let go almost resurfaced. So, I diverted my attention and texted my aunt.
"Auntie, the day after tomorrow will be your twenty ninth birthday. I want to cook for you personally. Is that okay?"
I stared at the chat screen as the words "typing ..." appeared, only to vanish moments later.
It took a long time before I got a cold and polite reply from my Auntie.
"Joey, I hope you understand. Even if we’re not related by blood, it will never happen between us.”
"I'm your Auntie, your mother’s best friend. Before she passed away, she entrusted you to my care. I raised you,” she wrote.
"Let go of these unrealistic thoughts. If this is another attempt to confess your feelings, I must decline and refuse your invitation," she had typed.
I actually was not surprised by her rejection.
Ever since I was head over heels with my Auntie at nine years old, I kept professing my love to her and because I was a child at that time, she would scold me and call me a silly kid who didn’t know better.
I naively believed that once I grew up, I could be with her. Each year on my birthday, I eagerly declared my feelings once again.