When Love Was Just a Game

The day of Ashton Blackwoods engagement party was a who's who of the city's elite.

He was on the sofa with his fiance, opening gifts, when the young woman let out a small, delicate huh?

Who sent this? A broken doll? Are they sick or something?

His friends craned their necks to see, then snickered. "Oh, that must be from Lily. Why's it broken, though? You've gotta give her points for persistence. Pining after Ashton for seven years and she still hasn't given up."

"She's probably off crying in a corner somewhere right now."

They were all laughing at me. Only Ashton, sitting in the center of it all, felt his cigarette tremble, scattering a fine layer of ash on the marble floor.

Because he suddenly remembered what I'd once told him.

"I'll keep this doll with me my entire life. Unless"

He had laughed then. "Unless what?"

"Unless I stop loving you."

1.

I left the Blackwood villa and hailed a cab straight to the airport.

The driver, with a thick New York accent, glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "You comin' from the Blackwood kid's engagement party, huh?"

See? Ashton Blackwood's name was that famous.

Anyone who heard it could share a bit of gossip. "Heard he used to have a new girlfriend every week. Total player."

"Wasn't he just in the tabloids with some starlet last month? You think he's really ready to settle down? Bet it's just for show. He'll still have other women after the wedding."

I managed a small smile.

"You're right."

For a man of his stature, that kind of gossip wasn't exactly a good look. In the past, I would have probably argued with the driver.

I would have said that not every woman photographed with him was his girlfriend; some were just friends of friends.

Or I would have insisted that he was truly in love with Isabelle, that he genuinely wanted to marry her.

And for the rest of his long life, Ashton Blackwood would love Isabelle, and only Isabelle.

Thinking this, I looked down at my phone. A new post popped up on my Instagram feed. It was a group photo from the party.

Congrats to the happy couple! To a hundred years of happiness!

A flood of comments followed.

His fiance is gorgeous. No wonder Ashton waited five years for her.

Yeah, I'm here now, they're so sweet together.

Just then, a text message came through. It was from Jack, Ashtons best friend.

Where are you? We were taking a group pic and couldn't find you. Ash is pissed.

I had only been at the engagement party for five minutes. Just long enough to drop off my gift and leave.

I typed back.

Something came up. I already left.

A moment later, he replied. Why didn't you say anything? Ashton would've had someone drive you.

He had already given me so much. He'd paid for my education, my dance lessons, for anything I ever wanted to do.

But the place I was going this time was too far.

It was better this way.

2.

I turned off my screen and didn't reply.

When I looked up, we were at a red light. The driver idly glanced out at a skyscraper. As if on cue, the massive screen on its facade was displaying an ad featuring the very same starlet hed just mentioned.

The driver clicked his tongue. "So, what's your connection to the Blackwoods, kid? Be honest, you're not another one of his exes, are you? I've already driven three of 'em over there today."

A bitter smile touched my lips.

"No."

"I'm his stepsister."

He had countless flames, a life defined by romance. But whenever people talked about him, beyond the string of lovers, there was one other person they always mentioned: his stepsister.

They always framed it as a story of his benevolence. The media had covered it years ago: after Ashton Blackwood's stepmother passed away, he ignored the protests of his entire family and insisted on keeping the "charity case" she had brought with her into the marriage.

I was only fifteen then. The Blackwood elders wanted to send me back to my hometown, but Ashton was the only one who refused.

"Her deadbeat dad doesn't even want her," he had argued. "She has no one back there. You want to send her back to starve?"

A soft sigh escaped me.

If he had sent me away back then, maybe we wouldn't have ended up like this.

We arrived at the airport shortly after.

With an hour and a half until boarding, I found a seat in the departure lounge. I scrolled through my phone for a bit, and before I knew it, I had drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up, my phone was lit up with an endless stream of missed calls.

Friends, classmates, people from Ashton's circle.

Even some of the Blackwood elders.

And at the very top of the list: Ashton.

He had called twenty-eight times.

He'd nearly drained my battery.

I was still trying to process it when I opened my messages and saw two from him, sent just a minute ago.

The first was a photo. It was of me, in the airport lounge. I was wearing a cream-colored dress, leaning back in the chair and looking at my phone, my long hair spilling over my shoulders. Outside the window, the ground was a carpet of red maple leaves.

The second message was a voice note.

His voice was rough, laced with a barely-there thread of fury.

"Lily, turn around."

3.

The lounge was bustling with people. I looked up and saw him standing not far away. I pressed my lips together. "What are you doing here?"

He gave a harsh tug at the corner of his mouth but said nothing.

In the next second, he was striding toward me. He snatched the suitcase from my hand, his voice cold and hard.

"Let's go. I'm taking you home."

"You can go on a trip any other time. Did you have to pick today? Do you have any respect for me at all?"

He didn't mention the doll. It was as if he hadn't even opened the gifts yet.

But I'd already seen the message from Jack.

He'd said: You gotta tell me what that doll was about. Ash saw it and completely lost his shit... Where are you?

I reached for my suitcase. "I'm not going back."

He let out a cold laugh, his grip tightening on my wrist as he started pulling me toward the exit. "You're my sister. If I don't look after you, who will? You want to go to Australia? Fine. I'll take you when I have time."

I shook my head, looking at him seriously. "No. I don't need you to take me. I want to go by myself." I repeated myself, for emphasis. "I don't need anyone to go with me."

In the past, whenever he went on trips with his girlfriends, he would insist on dragging me along, saying he was worried I'd be lonely. He was considerate, though; to avoid making it awkward, he'd always invite Jack to keep me company.

That was how Jack and I got to know each other.

One time, he couldn't hold it in anymore. "Lily," he'd complained, "come on. Ashton has a girlfriend now. It's not right for you to be so clingy. I know you like him, but it's been years. It's time to let it go. I don't even have time for my own girlfriend because I'm always out here babysitting you. It's depressing."

In that moment, I wished the ground would swallow me whole. I couldn't explain that it was Ashton who made me come, because I had my own selfish reasons for wanting to be near him.

I used to think that all those other girls were just flings. That one day, he might turn around and finally see me. After all, I had never seen him be particularly intimate with any of them.

Until two weeks ago, when Isabelle came back.

Ashton never asked me to come along again. He started coming home with lipstick marks on his collar. Not long after, they were engaged.

Only then did I finally understand. His years of playing the field were all because of his first love, Isabelle.

Ever since she had left, every girlfriend he'd had possessed at least one feature that resembled hers.

4.

But Ashton still dragged me out of the airport.

"I can make sure this flight never takes off," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Do you really want to test me?"

"Besides," he added, his tone softening slightly, "have you even touched your own face? You're burning up. You have a fever, Lily."

Once we were in the car, I realized Jack was there too. He was in the driver's seat, smoking.

When he saw me, he quickly stubbed out the cigarette. "Whoa," he said. "What's going on here?"

Ashton didn't waste any time.

"To the hospital."

The moment I got in the car, I closed my eyes and said nothing.

Jack glanced at me in the rearview mirror, hesitated, and then called my name.

I heard him, but I was too exhausted to respond.

He seemed to take that as a cue, letting out a sigh of relief. "Jesus, Ash," he said, "you really lost it this time."

"Do you have any idea how many reporters and media outlets were at that party? Do you know how many powerful people from business and politics were there?"

Ashton's voice was flat. "I know."

"The party's not even over. Isabelle is still waiting for you. If you go back now, it's not too late."

I wanted to say something, but my mouth wouldn't open.

And then, everything went black.

When I woke up again, Ashton was standing by the window of the hospital room, his back to me, on the phone.

I couldn't hear the other side, but I heard his response: "We'll postpone it for now. Just cancel it."

It took me a moment to realize he was talking about the engagement party.

I sat up, my voice hoarse. "You should go back. Thank you for today."

Hearing my voice, Ashton turned around. He walked over to my bed and stood over me, his gaze dark and unreadable.

"Do you really" he started to ask.

Those three words made my heart leap into my throat. Shamefully, my mind automatically finished his sentence: Do you really not have feelings for me anymore?

But before he could finish, a soft voice came from the doorway.

"Ashton."

It was just his name, but the way she said it was filled with an indescribable charm.

Ashton's expression shifted, and he looked away from me.

He turned to her. "I'm sorry."

5.

Isabelle walked into the room with a gentle smile.

"It's okay."

"Your sister is my sister now, too. She was in a car accident. That's a big deal. How could I possibly blame you?"

It finally clicked.

So that was the story Ashton was telling people.

His sister was in a car accident, forcing him to leave his own engagement party. It was a perfectly reasonable explanation.

It was also obvious that Isabelle knew it was a lie, but she didn't call him out on it.

Instead, she turned to me with a kind smile. "Lily, you're about the right age. Have you thought about finding a boyfriend?"

I was about to shake my head.

But then I saw Ashton, standing beside her, clutching his phone so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

Oh

Knowing him, he probably wanted me to find a boyfriend too. That way, there would be no chance of me ever getting in their way again.

He had taken care of me for so many years. No matter what, I owed him.

Maybe it was time to give him what he wanted.

And to finally let myself go.

"I've been thinking about it," I said.

The words had barely left my lips when Ashton's head snapped up. He stared at me, completely still.

Isabelle smiled, her gaze shifting to Ashton. She walked over, looped her arm through his, and said playfully, "You're not doing a very good job as a big brother. You should be helping her out with that, you know."

Ashton was silent for a moment before he finally spoke, his voice deep and cold.

"Right. I'll get right on that."

He shot me one last, expressionless look, then gently removed Isabelle's hand from his arm and walked out of the room.

For a split second, Isabelle's face went cold. She gave me a long, meaningful glance, said nothing, and followed him out.

6.

To make sure I rested, Ashton confiscated my phone for the two days I was in the hospital. He also forbade anyone from visiting me.

I only got my phone back the day I was discharged.

The number of notifications was staggering.

I answered a few messages from friends, and then my eyes fell on one at the very bottom of the list.

There was no name saved, just a single letter as the username: q.

Hey, where'd you go? I waited at the airport but didn't see you.

He was an online friend I'd met on a forum two years ago. He was witty, insightful, and had moved to Australia for school a few years back. When he found out I was planning to join a dance company there, he had been a huge help.

As I was about to reply, the "is typing..." bubble appeared.

A moment later, a new message popped up.

Couldn't get a hold of you. I just finished up with my school stuff and I'm back in the city. Want to meet up?

I typed back quickly.

Yeah, definitely! Sorry about before, something came up.

He replied almost instantly.

No worries. You're okay, right?

I told him I was fine.

He seemed relieved and sent a voice note. "Good to hear. See you soon, then?"

Yep.

After I replied, I looked over at Ashton's back. He was bent over, packing my things.

He had barely left my side for the past two days. He looked exhausted.

But ever since that day in the hospital, we had hardly spoken.

It used to be me, racking my brain for something to talk about.

Now, I wasn't initiating anymore. And whenever he spoke, my replies were short and to the point.

We had run out of things to say to each other.

I thought for a moment, then spoke.

"Ashton."

He froze, and for a split second, I heard a flicker of something almost like hope in his voice. "What is it?"

I looked up at him, my own voice calm and steady.

"I can put off going abroad for now. But I want to move out of the Blackwood house."

7.

I'd brought it up many times before, but Ashton had never agreed.

Back then, I was in love with him, so I had always let it go and stayed.

But now, he had a fiance. It wasn't right for me to be living under his roof anymore.

I thought, given how much he loved Isabelle, he would surely agree this time.

But to my surprise, the moment the words left my mouth, he threw the clothes he was folding onto the bed, grabbed me, and squeezed my arms, his grip painfully tight.

He let out a cold, humorless laugh. He said my name.

"Lily."

"How long are you going to keep this up?"

I was genuinely confused. "What?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes glinting with a chilling light. "I know what you're doing. All those other women beforeif you didn't like them, I'd get rid of them. But Isabelle is different. I've already postponed the engagement for you. I've done everything a brother could possibly do. Are you really going to force my hand?"

I was speechless.

He was right. More than half of his past girlfriends had broken up with him because of me.

He smirked, finally bringing up the doll.

He leaned in close, his thumb brushing against my lips.

I flinched.

"What do you mean by that?"

"The doll, running off to Australia, and now this talk about moving out," he said, his voice a low murmur. "Lily, you're too young to play these games. This whole push-and-pull thing you don't know how to play it. Stop this. Just be the little princess of the Blackwood family. I'll give you anything you want."

I opened my mouth to argue, but just then, his assistant's voice came from the doorway.

"Mr. Blackwood, Miss Isabelle just called. She'd like you to come over and help choose a new date for the engagement."