I Refuse this Late

I loved Stella for five years, and we were even engaged. However, she never helped when my grandfather was dying, all because the adopted son of my family suggested that she should use the opportunity to put me through adversity—so that I would toughen up. After my grandfather died helplessly, I toughened up just as she hoped for, no longer relying on her for everything. Naturally, I no longer loved her anymore either. Chapter 1 As I limped back to town, I became a joke to the rich and the privileged. They all said the heir apparent the Sullivans had brought back—the one who'd been lost and wandering since childhood—wasn't much in terms of ability, but had a nasty temper. He actually dared to butt heads with the adopted son who was already working in the company, even went so far as to threaten their parents. And what did he get for it? He ran away from home with nothing to his name, so broke he had to borrow even a few thousand dollars. Some of the rich brats who used to humiliate me somehow caught wind of my situation. Bold as ever, they swaggered around me with a huge entourage and started snapping photos of me with their phones, not even pretending to be subtle. I didn't bother raising my hand to cover my face and save my dignity, as the loan sharks already took it all. Ever since I was forced to go down on my knees and slap myself, my heart had been dead calm. John Sullivan—the boy who had a chip on his shoulder and raised hell everywhere to disguise the inferiority he felt, was dead. And it was Stella Lewis as well as the rest of the Sullivans who killed him. Several black MPVs came bounding down the road just then, not caring who was in their way. And seeing the car plate, those rich brats scrambled to flee. The leading MPV somehow had an air of modesty, just as I was well aware who was inside. Stella Lewis herself—head of the Lewis family and my fiancee. Though I paused for a moment when I saw the black MPV, I soon turned to take a detour. As the door opened, her secretary alighted, dressed sharply in a suit as she walked up to me. Still, she was taken aback when she saw my face and clothing. I certainly know that I was a mess—I was still wearing black shirt I wore for Granpa's funeral, but it was now wrinkled and covered in footprints. My cheeks were still swollen from yesterday's slaps, while my trembling fingers had dirt in every fingernail. Even my one shoe was something I had to get from a trash chute, and the other foot was bare and red from the cold. Still, the secretary quickly hid her surprise and gestured at the MPV. "Ms. Lewis is asking for you." "No. I'm going home," I rasped hoarsely through my aching throat, keeping my head down as I withdrew, intending to walk past her. The secretary was naturally surprised because I had been clinging to Stella for five years, as if she were my only hope in this world. Even though she was clearly always annoyed with my presence, I would always come up with excuses to stick around. But now, from where I was standing, she was like the devil himself. As I continued ahead, a cool voice called out, "John!" I stopped, and seeing that my lips were pursed, the secretary gestured at the MPV again. I straightened myself as much as I could while fighting the pain in my left leg, and limped slowly into the MPV even though the secretary had clear things to say. Inside, Stella looked up from the documents she was reading. Despite my sorry state, she didn't show concern, instead frowning and demanding in annoyance, "Are you cosplaying the homeless? Don't you feel embarrassed wearing that?" I felt no sting despite the sharp comment, nor did I feel disappointed that she had failed to see my wounds. Instead, I just kept my head down and apologized quietly. Chapter 2 "Sorry," I said, even though I didn't want to be tricked into borrowing from loan sharks. Or being beaten to a pulp. Or being forced to slap myself. Or being tied to a wall like a dog, forced to stay on all fours if I wanted to eat. However, it was either that, or they would dig Grandpa out of his grave and desecrate his body. Stella paused in turn, studying before smiling in approval, "Uriah's right. You just need to suffer a little and you've changed." Uriah Sullivan had been living with the Sullivans before they found me, while I had been living with his grandfather. And I was slow on the uptake, as it didn't cross my mind why Stella would mention Uriah at that time. Stella beckoned at me, being nice for once like she was giving treats to a dog just because I lived up to her expectations. "Come," she told me, as I had been sitting as far away as I could and averted my eyes, staring at the car mat beneath my feet. My eyes narrowed, repulsed by the way she ordered me around like I was a dog, and didn't move. And when I didn't move, her tone became stern. "I said, come." I didn't answer, but straightened my back as if to salvage that fragile dignity of mine—which I was supposed to have given up on, when I begged the loan sharks for mercy. And since I wasn't answering, the car was silent. Whether she was not used to the silence or because she got impatient, Stella reached out with her hand. My back stiffened even before she could grab my arm, but I was sitting by the car door and couldn't dodge. And the instant she touched me, my nostrils picked up the scent of her faint perfume. It was the same perfume she always used—a gift from Uriah. I remembered that I had a fight with Uriah because I thought he was out of line, and my parents froze my card in response. That was why when I visited Grandpa, all I had was little cash. His kidney failure was getting worse, but he couldn't afford the hospital so he never went. When I took him to the hospital, I didn't have money for the bills. Neither of my parents answered my calls, but somehow, the other rich brats who were always at odds with me showed up and laughed at me. "The great Mr. Sullivan needs cash? Well, we're not that cold—you just have to lick our shoes and you will get your money, how about that?" I didn't hesitate to do it, arching my back as I licked their shoes. Grandpa was the one who raised me. If I had one shot at saving him, I would seize it. The room was quiet aside from the sounds of my clothes brushing against the floor, and they had recorded me as I did. They were all guffawing as they left, not before throwing a couple of hundred-dollar bills on the floor. "Why don't you look in the mirror next time before you hover around Ms. Lewis?!" "Yeah! Your love for her is only worth this much!" Therefore, I was left with no other recourse than to borrow from loan sharks, but it was already too late for Grandpa. After arranging his funeral, the loan sharks were already hounding me to pay them back. I called Stella for help, only for her to snap at them impatiently, before snapping at me too and telling me to apologize. And with that, she hung up. Chapter 3 The memories could stop my heart, and I got goosebumps on my arm where Stella touched me. It felt as if a serpent coiled around me—a cold creepiness that swelled in my heart, leaving me so sick and nauseated I could throw up right then. I knocked Stella's hand away as hard as I could and arched my back, holding myself against the front seat with one hand while I clasped the other over my mouth and retched violently. Although I hadn't eaten for days and there was nothing I could vomit, the pungent acid scent sent Stella scrambling for a tissue to stuff her nostrils, while snapping at me in disgust, "What are you doing?!" But I kept retching as I couldn't hear a thing, and only stopped when I no longer felt sick. Stella said nothing and kept glaring coolly at me, and I knew well enough to tell that she was on the verge of an outburst. While I usually would play dumb and ignore that, I didn't do so this time—just as I knew fully well I had no right to fight back, just as I was too enfeebled. Keeping my head down as my fingers dug into the front seat, I said, "I'm sorry… I can walk on my own—I'm really sorry I got your car dirty. I'll wash it when I get home." Stella paused and studied me suspiciously for a moment, and suddenly reached out toward my head. I watched as her hand got closer, my whole body stiffening. I knew I shouldn't avoid her touch because I had always yearned for her to respond to my affection. However, she was very assertive and thought little of me, and would verbally destroy me if I even upset her a little—so that I felt embarrassed and hurt. I stiffened in my seat, telling myself repeatedly not to hide or upset her. However, when her cool fingers reached me again, I felt the same creepy serpentine sensation once more, and couldn't help turning my face away from her touch. Stella's hand was left frozen mid-air, and when she looked at me again, I felt her indignation and impatience. However, that was when I felt nauseated once more, and I shook my head repeatedly. Suddenly, Stella's face was gone, and I was looking at my grandfather lying on his sick bed. Because of these people, I had lost the only person who had been good to me. As I blinked, tears gushed down my cheeks. Seeing that, Stella—who clearly had some choice words for me—ultimately said nothing, and turned to tell the chauffeur to drive faster in it. As I wiped my tears with my sleeves, I curled into a ball, staying silent and did my best to appear invisible. My vision was a blur as I stared blankly outside, when it occurred to me. If only Stella were willing to help, Grandpa would have been saved. I wouldn't have to borrow from loan sharks either, let alone end up in this sorry state. But in the end, pondering about what ifs was pointless. - When the MPV stopped, I bumped my forehead on the front seat from inertia. "Are you okay?" Stella asked. Her asking me that was like seeing a blue moon. Still, I shook my head in silence, clutching my forehead. For her part, she didn't press the issue and alighted right away, ignoring me and entered the Sullivan residence. I went upstairs and quickly took a bath, changing out of my filthy trousers. There were several gruesome holes on my left kneecap—the blood had dried and blackened. It was a souvenir from the loan sharks, who had hammered several nails into my kneecap, and laughed out loud as I rolled around the ground, screaming and writhing in pain. After that, they starved me and said I only got to eat if I pulled those nails out with my own bare hands. Chapter 4 It had been nothing less than an absolute nightmare. Nonetheless, I changed into fresh clothes and cleaned up my wounds before heading downstairs. It just happened to be dinner, and my mother looked at me in disbelief, but soon beckoned while scoffing. "So you can find your way back. And you were gone so long without even calling home…" My grief was ready to burst right then, but someone spoke before I could, "Mom, aren't you going to have tea with Mrs. Chandler?" It was Uriah, dressed sharply in a suit as he strode in the door. Mom quickly turned away from me, exclaiming, "Oh, right! I almost forgot—thanks for reminding me!" Uriah shrugged and settled on the couch, grinning at me as he said, "Oh, you're finally back, John. It's high time you learned to fend for yourself and stop upsetting our parents." Everyone turned toward me right then, while my heart skipped a beat when I saw Uriah's mocking grin. But I didn't snap like before, and my mother didn't refute it. Just one glance at Uriah, and she was shaking her head disapprovingly. "You're losing weight again, Uriah. You haven't been eating well, have you? "Your health is always more important than work, and it's not like your dad resigned yet." Hearing that, I quietly hid my hand behind myself. I was barely a few feet away from my mother, but she never noticed my limp or my bruised hand. And yet, she immediately noticed that Uriah wasn't eating well. On the other hand, Uriah smiled. "Right, I should be more disciplined since John has made enough trouble for you." Mom glanced at me, looking like she had much to say but only sighed. - As my mom tried to get me to eat more at the dinner table, I tamely thanked her. However, she still sighed wryly. But thankfully, she didn't lecture me, even giving me the debit card she and Dad had confiscated before. "Look, John—we were so worried when you left, so we decided we won't be so strict with you. Your dad deposited more money in the card too." My fingers clenched around the card for a moment, but I soon let go. The card came back to me way too late. Somehow, I could feel Uriah staring at me throughout, but when I looked up at him, he turned and smiled at Stella who sat beside him. "It's like you're only capable of getting better. I can't even be mad about losing to you at that auction." Stella rolled her eyes, but pulled out a gift box and spoke with a milder tone than usual, "Here's your birthday present. Sorry I couldn't make it since I was on a business trip abroad." "Oh, and I thought you're so busy you've forgotten," Uriah chuckled, and opened the box to reveal a dark-green wristwatch. I paused, as I had seen it on a list of auctioned items. Back then, I had taken a liking to it right away, but I didn't have an invitation to said auction event. Stella had noticed me staring, and told me coolly then, "Don't cause trouble, and I'll buy it for your birthday." But now, she was giving it to Uriah—even if she said nothing, I knew that it was my punishment. Nonetheless, I excused myself politely from my table after eating my fill and left the table, only for Stella to confront me upstairs. Chapter 5 Stella stood in her high heels, looking at once imposing yet bewitching. In the past, just seeing her like that would send me jumping toward her. But now, my heart didn't race at all. She never noticed, and walked closer, her heels clicking in her wake. "You've changed." I kept my head down so that I wasn't looking at her, and she continued with her holier-art-thou tone, "I know you liked that watch, but you caused so much trouble in just two weeks. Not getting it is your punishment. "That said, you've been disciplined today and I'm so satisfied I can grant you one wish… As long as it's not too much." I looked up at her face, suddenly feeling nostalgic. The first time we had met was at a party—those rich brats from the city who were told by their parents to suck up to me, were instead mocking me because of my choice of clothing. I was too self-deprecating to fight back, let alone speak out loud. It was Stella who stepped up, slapping their ringleader across the face and calling them bums. After those rich brats fled, she turned to me, frowning. "You are the heir to the Sullivans. Don't cringe and cower—show some spine. They're all meant to grovel at your feet." I stuttered, "B-But they might hate me…" "Hate?" Stella scoffed. "No. Always remember—your last name alone is reason enough for them to fawn all over you, even if you kick them around. Understand?!" And I had held on to those words for five years. But in the end, Stella turned against me too, belittling me in full view of the public, calling me names or snapping at me for making a scene over the little things—even if those rich brats were the ones who had started it. That protectiveness she showed when we first met had also long since faded, and I couldn't find any sign of it on her face now. "Have you thought of something yet?" she urged me. "I'm on the clock. Don't be so greedy." I had to lean against the wall as I felt the faint painful spasms in my left leg, clearing my head. And she was the reason I was suffering. I had told the loan sharks who I was, even calling her number—which I had committed to memory, for help. But what had she done? "What are you playing at this time?!" she had snapped at me over the phone. "All you do is hang out with your useless friends—won't you ever learn to improve?! The Sullivans could really do without a piece of shit like you." Not satisfied, she went on to snap at those loan sharks. Furious, they vented their anger on me, making me slap myself, only stopping me when my cheeks swelled and were barely recognizable, and I could feel my teeth aching. And because my cheeks were too swollen, even eating suddenly took effort. I couldn't even chew the buns they threw at me, so they stomped them into tiny pieces caked with dirt before shoving them into my mouth. My stomach was churning again at the thought, but I fought against the impulse to retch and shook my head. "Sorry, there's nothing I want." Stella lifted a brow suspiciously, and growled threateningly, "I gave you a chance but you spurned it. Just don't bother me later—I'm not that patient." "No, I won't," I replied quietly. All I wanted was for her to leave right then. "You'd better not," she snorted. For her part, she didn't insist—perhaps because she was reluctant to reward me in the first place. She strode off, but paused a few paces away, "And don't bother Uriah anymore. There's nothing between us." With that, she was gone before I could respond. Chapter 6 I waited until midnight when my father finally returned from the office, and went to see him with a suitcase. I only brought along the very worn clothes that Grandpa had given me on the day the Sullivans came to bring me home. Wiping my tears and zipping up the suitcase, I left the suitcase by the doorway and knocked on the door to my father's study, and waited. "Come in," he finally said. "Dad," I greeted him as I entered, standing tamely at a corner. He studied me, pursing his lips when he saw the bruises on my bare skin. "I heard about what happened—it's our fault for confiscating your debit card, and you wouldn't have—" "Dad," I cut him short, losing composure right then. But I just can't bear to be reminded of those nightmarish days. Sighing, I said, "I'd like to move out." He sighed as he reclined against his seat. "I know you're still blaming us, and it's our fault for not being there for you… but your mother's going to miss you." I hung my head and said self-deprecatingly, "You'll still have Uriah." "What about Stella?" He countered. "You love her, don't you? Can you really bear to leave her?" I was silent. Indeed, everyone knew that I was in love with Stella—I couldn't stop myself from chasing after her ever since we met. The rich and the privileged called me her loyal dog, but none of them remembered I tried to make something for myself. And when I failed and lost millions, she was there, standing firm at my side and telling me tenderly that it was business—there'd always be losses. She was there for me when I retaliated after being mocked, even telling me I did well. She was always dining with me, happily receiving my flowers and remembering my birthday. But she changed when Uriah returned from abroad. She was the one who told me that a person must always fend for themselves so that they wouldn't be constantly bullied. That I had the right to defend myself because I was heir to the Sullivan family. Ironically, she was also the one who told me I had become too thorny, and told me she had to dethorn and tame me. "I think we should call off our engagement," I said to my father, and to myself. "I won't cling to her anymore." My father breathed a long sigh, but nodded in understanding and slid the debit card into my palm. "Try to visit us whenever you can." My fingers tightened around the debit card without knowing it as I bowed my head. "Thank you." He nodded in turn. "I'll be sending more money from time to time. It's fine if you don't like it here, but you're always our son—you can return whenever." I turned, resolved not to respond to the concern that came all too late. "Do you need a ride?" He asked. I shook my head. At this point, I understand that the wounds in my heart wouldn't ever heal as long as I stayed in this house or near Stella. I had to let go of the past and start anew. My father had to let me leave too, as he understood what happened drove us apart, and making me stay would only make me hate them. And I couldn't care less about how Stella would react either.