My first and purest love was for Mr. Sterling, whom I met as a child.
It is easy for us to feel love when we are young. We can sanctify anyone who shows interest in us, entices us with gifts, or pats us on the head- especially if life hands us over to the care of horrible parents.
I first became acquainted with him through his daughter Macy, who has been a friend of mine since elementary school.
I found in him a tenderness that I had been unable to find in my abusive father.
His kindness bandaged my wounds.
I harbored a secret desire to birth his kids one day. I was referring to him increasing the family, obviously, given that he already has two grown-up children.
Even though he suffers from anxiety and his career as a businessman requires him to be perpetually busy, he has not neglected the devotion he has for his two children.
They were the focal point of his life, and he would take time away from his workdays to hang out with them, take them to amusement parks, buy them toys and clothes, and express his moral and financial interest in them.
It was not permissible for me to make comparisons between my family and Sterling's, who come from a wealthy background; however, it was acceptable for me to blame my father, who does nothing but put limits on me, abuse me both physically and emotionally, and discourage me from pursuing my goals.
I started to revere Mr. Sterling as a person when I was a young child. He treated me the same way he treated his two children.
I got older and transitioned from childhood to adolescence and found that my heart rejoiced at the sight of him as a man.
Macy, my best friend invited me to spend the night at her house for a sleepover and slumber party. I got into a heated argument when I asked my father for permission, and by the time it was over, I had a broken heart and a purple bruise on my cheek. Nevertheless, gaining his approval was well worth the argument, even though it resulted in us disagreeing with one another.
I arrived at the Sterling family home in the evening. It was explicitly their mansion, which had three stories and was surrounded by a large garden that included a swimming pool, a tennis court, and an orchard of red roses.
And here we are in the kitchen, where we have decided to make dinner together because we both enjoy cooking. This was one of the things that often brought us together.
"I don't get it, Macy; there are a lot of servants in the house. Why are you making such an effort in the kitchen?" Mrs. Sterling walked into the kitchen while venting her frustrations about her daughter.
She is an attractive woman who is quite tall and has long chestnut hair along with her big brown eyes. Macy is a replica of her, but she constantly switches up her hairstyle. Her father gave her permission to alter her hair color since we began university, and she is now blonde.
"You are aware of how much I enjoy cooking, and the fact that my good friend who shares this interest with me is finally back at her place has completely blown my mind. Nobody supports or even seems to care about me, except the servants."
Macy put on an act of being resentful, and Melony was displeased. The woman actively disliked me.
The fact that I came from a low-income family prevented her from ever loving me. She is a woman of high class and low morals, but she only wants the best for her children.
She eventually came around as time went on.
"Do you believe it is appropriate to serve guests in the comfort of your own home?" Mrs. Sterling said spitefully.
I gave a slight frown and tucked the shorter strands of my hair behind my ear.
We have known each other for a decade as friends. Indeed, I do not spend much time at the house, but the fact that we have known each other for such a long time effectively makes me a member of the family.
Macy had driven the servants out of the kitchen as soon as we gained control of the space, at which point she got up from the table and poured herself a glass of water.
"Please, Mom, just give us some space. We have some time that we need to make up. It is sufficient that we are geographically separated by the university and that we have only one opportunity to interact with one another." Macy spoke while she continued to stir the soup in the pot.
Mrs. Sterling poured herself a glass of water, gulped it down her throat in one swift motion, and then pursed her lips in disapproval at her daughter's remark.
"Well, well, it looks like I'll be leaving." Mrs. Sterling finally gave in and started making her way toward the kitchen exit while muttering, "I'm not up for young gossip anyway."
Macy let out a distressed sigh as soon as she was certain that her mother had left us alone.
I started gathering the utensils that we had used from the sink where they had been left.
"I believe I have a crush on Professor Ralph. The mere sight of him makes my legs feel like they are going to give way." Macy let the cat out of the bag.
I let out a loud exclamation, and the severity of the shock caused the plate I was holding to come dangerously close to slipping out of my grasp.
"The famous professor of strategic management?"
Macy shook her head and pursed her lips in an irritated expression.
She majored in business administration, and Ralph was the professor she hated the most.
"Is that the same person you once described as a wild boar?" I had to suppress the laughter that was building up inside of me to be able to speak.
