My Boyfriend's \"Girl Bro\": Five Miles in the Pouring Rain

My boyfriend had a female bro.

She talked like a classic pick-me girl, and wore a dress the exact same color as mine.

I thought she was a cool-girl pick-me.

Until that day in the pouring rain, when she carried me on her back for three miles.

01

The first time I met Olivia was at a dinner with Nates frat brothers.

Before we went, Nate just laughed and said, "Liv? Oh, she's basically just one of the guys."

The moment I saw her, I was genuinely confused.

Olivia's features were bright and flawless, and she was wearing a soft, elegant white maxi dress.

She looked up at me from her stool, two little dimples appearing on her cheeks as she smiled shyly.

There was absolutely nothing "one of the guys" about her.

Olivia had a slender figure, and the white dress made her look incredibly graceful.

I, on the other hand, was a bit chubby, and the color of my dress clashed perfectly with hers.

Olivia opened her mouth and the first thing she said was:

"What a coincidence, we're wearing the exact same color."

Yes. Compared to her, I looked like a complete clown.

I felt incredibly awkward, but I still reached out my hand to be friendly.

"Look at her pretending to be shy. She used to be so violent, she'd chase me down the street to beat me up," my boyfriend Nate laughed, playfully shoving Olivia's shoulder.

Olivia suddenly jumped up, slapping Nate on the shoulder.

Her voice was playful, chirping like a happy little bird:

"What kind of nonsense are you talking about!"

"See? See? Am I wrong?" Nate laughed, dodging her slaps.

I stood frozen in place, my outstretched hand hanging awkwardly in the air.

I turned my head and watched my boyfriend roughhousing with her.

It felt like

It felt like I was the outsider.

My nose stung, and I closed my eyes.

I didn't want to watch them play-fight, and I didn't want to leave a bad impression of being a jealous girlfriend the first time I met his best friend.

Until I heard a loud, resounding smack echo through the room.

The moment I opened my eyes.

I saw a bright red handprint stamped across my boyfriend's cheek.

Nate's shocked voice rang out:

"Holy shit, did you put your whole arm into that slap?"

02

After getting to know Nate, I slowly got to know Olivia.

Whenever Nate mentioned Olivia, his mouth was full of praise.

He said Olivia was cheerful and optimistic, a true example of a girl raised with old money.

I added Olivia on Snapchat and Instagram.

Olivia's Instagram was filled with photos of her surfing in Hawaii.

Her slender figure and radiant energy made her look like a white seagull soaring over the ocean.

There were photos of her snowboarding in Aspen, and writing papers in a Parisian cafe wearing chic glasses.

With her slender, swan-like neck lowered, she looked gentle and intellectual.

Even though I felt a bit sour because of their play-fighting that first time.

I couldn't help but sigh to Nate:

"Olivia really is an incredible person."

Nate snatched my phone and said, "Hey, why is her profile public now? She used to have it set to close-friends only."

Nate's casual remark made my sensitive mind overthink.

Why did she suddenly make her profile public right after I added her?

As I scrolled through Olivia's feed, Nate immediately leaned his head close to mine to look.

He was highly enthusiastic, constantly urging me to scroll to the next picture.

After a few swipes, I suddenly didn't want to scroll anymore.

I was jealous.

I asked him, half-joking, half-serious, "Do you have a crush on her?"

Nate replied with a goofy grin, "Who wouldn't like a rich heiress? But don't worry, she doesn't date."

"Alright, stop overthinking. If something was going to happen between us, it would have happened years ago."

As he said that, he continued staring intently at Olivia's photos.

I locked my phone screen.

Through the dark reflection of the screen.

I clearly saw his crestfallen expression.

It looked exactly like the disappointment and sorrow of not being able to obtain a coveted treasure.

03

Actually, I had probably heard the name Olivia back in college.

The very day Nate accepted my confession.

He was drunk, repeatedly mumbling the word "Liv" under his breath.

A six-foot-two guy, crying like a dog in the middle of a diner.

I heard the friend next to him shove him and say:

"Enough, Liv just went abroad to study. She's not dead."

His friend called me, and I rushed to the diner to pick him up.

I half-carried, half-dragged him home.

By a planter on the side of the road.

He grabbed the hood of my sweatshirt and violently threw up all over me.

The Emma from back then was so stupid.

My heart and eyes were completely full of him; I didn't feel an ounce of disgust.

The highest level of liking someone is feeling your heart ache for them.

With blurry, drunken eyes, he looked up and saw my face full of concern.

Nate gripped my wrist incredibly tight.

The boy's eyes burned bright like flames.

He said, "You're the only one who won't abandon me."

Then, as if granting me a charity, he said:

"Let's be together."

I really, truly loved Nate. I gave him all my sincerity and love.

But in Nate's heart, it seemed...

Olivia was always there.

It was hard for me not to care.

But I never asked too much, and he seemed to have forgotten Olivia.

Because of my passionate and sincere love, he began to love me back.

Until Olivia returned from abroad, breaking that balance.

Even though I minded so much.

Olivia seemed to do it on purpose.

She started inviting Nate and me out frequently.

She was like a bird, proudly and arrogantly diving straight into our lives.

04

Olivia invited Nate and me to play tennis.

I didn't want to go, but I also didn't want Nate playing alone with her.

I pleaded with Nate, "Can you just say no? I don't know how to play tennis, and I really don't want to."

"But I want to play," Nate said, looking at me seriously.

"But... if you want to play, you can play with other friends. We don't have to go to Olivia today."

I stammered out my explanation.

Nate's handsome brow furrowed, looking annoyed:

"Just because of you, am I not allowed to have normal recreational activities anymore?"

"I never noticed you being this unreasonable before. Why are you so possessive?"

I went silent. His impatient tone let me know I couldn't stop him.

I had no choice but to change into activewear and go with him.

When we got to the courts, Olivia was wearing a pleated tennis skirt, her high ponytail swishing lightly. She looked like a proud little white bird.

Her big, almond eyes widened as she tossed a racket directly to me:

"Emma, play with me."

"I'm not very... good at this," I tried to refuse.

My boyfriend chimed in from the sidelines: "Just play with her."

"No, I specifically want to play with Emma," her eyes curved into smiling crescents.

Faced with Olivia's enthusiasm, I had no choice but to accept.

Unsurprisingly, as someone who sucked at sports, I was absolutely decimated by her.

I couldn't return a single serve, my slightly chubby figure running awkwardly across the court.

Like a clumsy raccoon.

I was getting angry inside.

Looking so pathetic in front of my boyfriend. Was she doing this on purpose?

In contrast to me, she shone even brighter. Beautiful and athletic, she was simply perfect.

Especially after the workout, some strands of hair had come loose, and sweat stuck them to her fair cheeks.

She looked like a porcelain doll.

When another tennis ball rolled past me onto the ground.

I said, "I'm done playing."

Olivia held her racket, smiling at me:

"Okay. Let's go take a break together then."

Then, she put down her racket and redid her hair, which had gotten messy from playing.

She deliberately held her hair tie in her mouth, facing my direction as she fixed her hair with her hands.

Exposing her fair, swan-like neck.

The way she looked with the hair tie in her mouth was incredibly beautiful.

Honestly, she looked like an innocent, adorable deer exposing its neck.

My heart skipped a beat.

But I was absolutely certain she was deliberately showing off her charm.

Sure enough, I turned around and saw Nate standing behind me, watching her.

Without even blinking.

05

I hated Olivia.

I hated the powerless feeling of knowing she was getting closer and closer to my boyfriend, but being unable to do anything about it.

I lucidly watched Nate's appreciation for Olivia become less and less disguised.

But when I brought it up, he would just say, "Liv and I are just friends."

"You're my girlfriend, stop overthinking."

Even though he said that, I had a sinking feeling.

I was his backup plan, his safety net.

He realized that being with me had the highest ROI. He realized I treated him the best. I was probably just the honest girl settling down with him.

Blissfully unaware of my inner turmoil, Olivia continued to invite Nate and me to the movies.

She sent a screenshot of the booked tickets. Her seat choices were very interesting. Two seats were together, and the other seat was right in front of them.

I had already guessed that I would definitely be the one sitting in the front.

While she and Nate got cozy in the back.

Olivia even sent a pouty, apologetic emoji on Snapchat: "There were only these three seats left."

I complained inwardly, but since Nate insisted on going, I was absolutely not going to let them be alone together.

It was a horror movie, too. I could already picture Olivia pretending to be a fragile, scared girl just to sit with my boyfriend.

Stupid pick-me.

Sure enough, as soon as we got to the theater entrance, Olivia ran over and grabbed my arm.

Her expression was pitiful as she said to me:

"You don't mind, right, Emma?"

I really couldn't hold back my anger anymore.

But Olivia's second sentence choked out my fury:

"I'll sit with Emma. Nate, you sit in the front. You don't have a problem with that, right?"

Huh? Olivia actually wanted to sit with me?

That last sentence ended on a rising note, carrying a definite hint of a threat.

"Alright, alright, Princess. I thought you needed me to protect you," Nate said, rubbing his nose, trying to play it off as a joke.

Inside the dark theater, only the flickering light of the screen illuminated us.

I watched the movie while observing Olivia out of the corner of my eye.

American horror movies always rely on jump scares and sudden loud noises to terrify people.

I wasn't scared of horror movies. To be honest, I found the real world depressing enough, so I didn't fear death, much less the ghosts and monsters that could cause it.

But Olivia looked genuinely terrified.

Her teeth were biting down hard on her lips, which looked like fresh snow-dusted roses. Her elegant brows were tightly furrowed.

Her fingers were trembling unconsciously.

Was she really that scared? Little pick-me.

A terrifying musical cue played, and she let out a small whimper, her entire body curling up in fear.

The sight of her 5'9" frame curled up in the seat was a bit cute and a bit comical.

She literally looked like a startled cat with its fur puffed up.

I found it amusing, but my smile quickly faded.

Suddenly, a horrifying image flashed on the screen.

Olivia seemed completely terrified, her shoulder suddenly leaning into mine.

With her soft figure pressing against me, the faint, lingering scent of freesia drifted to my nose.

"Emma..." her voice was slightly hoarse, like a kitten's.

"I'm so scared. Hold my hand... please."

Her warm breath tickled my ear. Coupled with her raspy, pleading voice, a shiver ran down my spine.

Her body was too close. That lingering, soft freesia scent felt like a hand tickling my heart.

I looked down at her innocent, clear eyes as she clung to my waist.

They were watery and pleading.

Like I was possessed, I held her hand.

It was ice-cold and smooth.

Nate, sitting in front of us, suddenly turned around at that moment and laughed:

"American horror movies aren't even scary."

I tried to quickly pull my hand away, but she gripped it fiercely.

While Nate turned his head to talk.

Our hands were tightly intertwined under her jacket.

06

After returning home that night, my heart was pounding.

Why did this happen?

I felt like something wasn't quite right.

The little pick-me I had pictured in my head was secretly holding my hand.

While I was puzzling over this.

I discovered that all the money in my and Nate's joint account had been withdrawn.

Looking at the bank notification text, the remaining balance was $5.20.

There was a total of $20,000 in there. Of that, 0-08,000 was money I had scraped together from part-time jobs.

Money I saved by tutoring and doing DoorDash deliveries during winter and summer breaks.

Nate had said that after graduation, we would move back to my hometown, find jobs, and this would be the startup fund for our new life.

He was the dream guy I had fought so hard to get. I always spoiled him. I forgave him when he spent money carelessly and when he didn't contribute to the couples' account.

I ran to Nate and asked:

"Why did you take out all that money? That's everything I saved up doing DoorDash and tutoring!"

"Wow, you say you love me, but the second I spend a little money, you interrogate me," Nate raised an eyebrow, his handsome face looking annoyed.

"No, I just wanted to ask why," my tone became even more cautious.

"It's Olivia's birthday soon. She invited us over to celebrate, and I bought her a gift."

"Of course we should get her a gift, but since we're still just starting out, we didn't have to buy something that expensive," I pleaded, looking at Nate.

Nate raised an eyebrow, a half-smile on his face:

"Do you even know who Olivia is? There will be a ton of rich kids at her party. The average gift will be over ten grand. Do you want me to look like a joke?"

Noticing my pale expression, Nate reached out and pulled me into his arms:

"Alright, babe. If I look like a joke, you look like a joke. We're a team. This gift represents both our intentions."

"But..."

While I was still hesitating, Nate's expression turned cold. I was terrified of him throwing a tantrum. When he got mad, he could ignore me for a whole week.

I was terrified of the silent treatment.

I had no choice but to force a nod and agree.

I comforted myself by saying Olivia was a good person, so buying her a gift was the right thing to do!

It's just that

I couldn't help but remember the times my t-shirt clung to my sweaty back as I climbed six flights of stairs delivering food.

I think I was starting to hate Nate a little bit.

07

Before the birthday party, Olivia sent me a dress.

It was a champagne-colored mermaid gown, with a small cluster of pale pink roses at the bust.

Clothes make the man. I never expected it to fit so perfectly and look so beautiful on me.

I was a bit chubby to begin with, and my only redeeming feature was my pale skin.

This dress practically magnified my best features and flattered my figure flawlessly.

I suddenly felt that those twenty grand were somewhat worth it.

I had never been a princess. After putting on this dress, I couldn't help but twirl in front of the mirror, admiring myself.

I felt like a sweet little princess smiling in a rose garden.

But Nate, sitting on the sofa, crushed my spirit:

"Alright, stop admiring yourself. You're just there to be a foil for Olivia anyway. I really don't know why she sent you a dress."

Right after he said that, Nate stopped abruptly.

As if realizing something, he stared at me intently.

"She sent you a dress, but you still can't compare to her. But why would she want to compare herself to you..."

"Could she be jealous?"

I was still lost in the beauty of the dress and didn't catch the second half of his sentence.

I asked him what he just said, and Nate smirked and said, "Nothing."

I hated him now anyway, so I didn't care what he said.

He could say whatever he wanted.

Olivia's driver came to pick us up.

The party was at her family's mansion.

Honestly, standing in front of the magnificent mansion, I subconsciously felt a bit intimidated.

Nate didn't even hold my hand. He walked ahead with long strides, seemingly eager to see Olivia.

The fountain in front of the villa was already decorated with massive bouquets of roses.

I was wearing heels and walking a bit slow, gradually falling behind Nate.

I reached out to grab Nate in the distance.

Olivia had already opened the door and walked out.

She bypassed the smiling Nate and extended her hand toward me, lifting her hem slightly as she approached.

She was wearing a champagne-colored tailored suit, with a pink rose pinned to her lapel.

Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, her eyebrows drawn sharp. She exuded an androgynous, breathtaking beauty.

She looked like a proud, elegant white crane.

"Welcome." One of her hands wrapped around my waist, and the other caught my outstretched wrist.

Her five slender, pale fingers slipped through the gaps of my fingers like little snakes.

The proximity made me uncomfortable, and I quickly pushed her away.

"Hey, hey, why are you wearing a suit instead of a dress? You look like a tomboy."

Nate, annoyed by being ignored, hurried over and casually slapped Olivia on the shoulder.

Olivia, who had been wearing a warm, radiant smile, let the corners of her mouth drop slightly.

She said what sounded like a joke:

"Touch me with that pig trotter again, and I'll chop it off."

After saying that, she winked in my directiona playful and proud little white crane.

Okay, okay.

Wearing the same color clothes as me again.

Ready to compete for male attention again.

08

Olivia's birthday dinner wasn't overly extravagant, just a dozen or so people gathered around eating exquisite dishes.

The only thing to celebrate was that this meal consisted entirely of things I had never eaten before.

Lobster, foie gras, caviar.

I ate until I was stuffed.

While I was gorging myself, I saw Olivia resting her elbows on the table, watching me with a melting smile, bright as the moon through the branches.

Great, she definitely wanted to laugh at me for eating too much.

Nate noticed Olivia's gaze and gave me a subtle pinch.

His expression was cold and stern; the subtext was telling me not to embarrass him.

I sheepishly wiped my mouth, sat back in my seat, and sipped my wine idly.

After the party, the guests all drove away.

Olivia's hair was a bit messy. She had drank quite a bit, and her gaze stuck to me like syrup.

Her stare made me incredibly uncomfortable, and I quickly looked for an excuse to leave.

But Olivia's voice rang out: "It's too late. Just stay over here tonight."

"Sure."

Before I could even speak, Nate accepted for me.

"Then Emma and I will stay on the first floor. Nate, you can take the second floor," Olivia said with a smile.

I whispered to Nate, "I want to go home. My head hurts."

Since the party started, I had a headache and felt chills all over.

Nate shot me a look. "Just lie down for a bit and you'll be fine. You're so high maintenance."

I didn't know how to drive, so I had no choice but to stay at Olivia's house.

I climbed into bed, wrapping the blankets tightly around me. My body was starting to burn up.

At Olivia's house, I felt too embarrassed to bother her.

I wanted to tough it out until tomorrow.

I tossed and turned in bed, falling into a groggy, half-awake state.

The room was quiet and dark.

A massive clap of thunder suddenly lit up the entire room.

I realized my body was already burning like a small furnace.

It felt like boiling heat radiating from my very bones. I forced myself to try and get up.

I needed to find Olivia for some ibuprofen. I wouldn't make it to tomorrow like this.

I was acutely and painfully aware of this fact.

I tried to climb out of bed, took two steps, my legs gave out, and I crashed to the floor.

The thud pierced the silence of the night.

Then my door was gently pushed open. The lightning outside illuminated the person standing in the doorway.

Accompanied by the pouring rain.

I clearly saw that it was Olivia.

The lightning illuminated the distance between us as she walked toward me, step by step, her eyes deep and dark.

Her hands were icy cold as she touched my forehead.

"Why didn't you tell me your fever was this bad?"

"I was afraid... of bothering you." I stammered due to being sick, my voice low.

"I just moved into this mansion, I haven't stocked up on medicine yet. I'm taking you to the ER."

"Thank you..."

Those slender hands gripped my waist, and then, she scooped me up effortlessly into a tight embrace.

09

She put a raincoat on me, and I let her maneuver me in my hazy state.

I even forgot to ask for Nate.

Afraid I'd get wet, she secured the hood and put a mask on me.

My mind was a chaotic mess, but somehow, I said to her:

"Happy... birthday. Olivia."

Her body stiffened. She leaned down, her warm breath hitting my ear.

"Why didn't you say it during the dinner party? Everyone else did. Why did you hide in the corner?"

My brain was a tangled mess, but I vaguely remembered.

Ah.

It was because I was too intimidated.

She stood there so radiantly, many people raising their glasses to her. I inexplicably shrank back.

But I still remembered I had to wish her a happy birthday.

So I took advantage of now, while we were alone together.

I said it out loud.

"Emma, you idiot."

Suddenly, a shiver shot up my spine from my tailbone. I almost convulsed.

I felt my earlobe being taken into someone's mouth and gently bitten.

Cold and gentle.

In my dazed state, I was carried into the car and fell asleep in the backseat.

I don't know how much time passed.

When I opened my eyes again, I was clinging to Olivia's back.

In my ears was the drumbeat of torrential rain, and before my eyes was a stretching, dark gray highway.

The pitch-black night was illuminated only by pools of warm yellow streetlights, which seemed to wrap around her and me.

I instinctively grabbed Olivia's shoulders.

"Olivia, put me down. I can walk."

"The rain is too heavy. The car stalled halfway. It's three miles left, and the hospital is just down the hill."

"Be a good girl, stay still."

"No, you're so skinny, how can you carry me! I'm heavy, put me down, I can walk myself."

"You're burning up like a little fireball, how could I let you walk."

Her voice rose, filled with unquestionable resolve.

But then, afraid of scaring me, she lowered her voice to coax me:

"I work out, carrying you is nothing. Be good, hold on tight, we'll be there soon."

I had no idea how someone so thin could have so much strength.

She carried me, trudging solidly through the pouring rain for three miles.

Seeing her afraid I'd get wet, she had draped her raincoat over me.

She wore a windbreaker, and the raindrops smashed against her clothes with loud smacks.

Some raindrops slid down her forehead and fell from her hair.

Falling like a string of pearls.

I couldn't tell if it was rain or my tears anymore.

I said: "Put me down, I can walk."

She said: "Silly Emma, how could I bear to let you suffer."

10

Because of the time Olivia took me to the hospital, I was incredibly grateful.

I swore I would never call her a toxic pick-me again.

I started actively inviting Olivia over to our place. I humbly and earnestly, blushing, asked Nate for his permission.

Nate looked at me with an expression that said finally, you're being reasonable.

Nate was exceptionally eager that day. He ran out to buy Olivia's favorite groceries, saying he was going to show off his cooking skills.

Even though we had lived together for so long, he rarely cooked for me.

But I didn't care anymore.

Olivia showed up that day carrying a few bottles of red wine.

She smiled and said, "These are from my family's vineyard in France. We'll open a bottle to taste with dinner."

Nate was wearing an apron, cooking in the kitchen.

Olivia and I sat on the rug watching TV.

Thinking about how she carried me to the hospital, I sincerely thanked her: "Thank you, Liv. Without you, my fever would have fried my brain."

Olivia cast a casual glance toward the kitchen, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly.

Her clear eyes watched me, holding what seemed like a rippling little spring, emotions gently undulating like ripples.

From the kitchen came the loud sizzle and pop of cooking.

It sounded like Nate had already fired up the wok.

In an instant, Olivia leaned over me. She dropped to one knee, her hands planted on the rug, completely caging me in.

Olivia's face was quite striking, like a western version of Anne Hathaway.

She tilted her head slightly, looking at me like a highly excited cat that had just caught its prey.

"This is how you can thank me."

Her lips conquered mine like an invading army.

Rather than a kiss, I'd call it a ravaging.

Bastard, how did she know how tohow did she know how to use tongue?

I tried to push her away, but I couldn't move her at all.

This was absolutely not a peaceful, moonlight-gentle kiss.

It was like two wild beasts tearing into each other in the wilderness, branding each other with their mark.

The cooking noises in the kitchen crackled and popped.

Olivia and I kissed until the world spun.

"My tongue is very agile, isn't it."

Her voice was husky, carrying a bewitching edge.

She was so skinny, her chest completely flat. Pressed against mine, it actually hurt.

We desperately explored each other's secrets, urgent, fierce, passionate.

Suddenly

The cooking noises in the kitchen stopped.

Olivia and I quickly separated.

Olivia casually picked up a sparkling water from the table and took a sip.

I wiped my lips and started fiddling with a plushie on the table.

Sure enough, when people are nervous, they look for something to do.

Nate walked out carrying dishes.

Seeing us, he smiled and said: "You guys must be hungry. Dinner's ready."