It was then that I noticed he had brought someone back with him. It was Mischa.
Sean held the umbrella with one hand and wrapped his arm around Mischa as they ran ahead. "Krystal, close the car door!" he shouted.
Back in the apartment, before I could even take off my raincoat, I heard Sean urgently calling me. "Bring me a new towel!" he demanded.
I quickly fetched a towel and instinctively went to wipe the rain off Sean.
"Why are you wiping me? Can't you see that Mischa's clothes are half-soaked? What if she catches a cold?" He grabbed the towel, worried that if he didn't dry her fast enough, she would immediately fall ill.
"Sorry, Krystal," Mischa apologized softly. "It suddenly started raining heavily. I had nowhere to hide, so I got into Sean's car to wait it out. But the rain got worse, so he offered to bring me home. Sorry for not telling you in advance."
I was about to politely say, "It's fine."
But Sean spoke first, "Your sister isn't the petty type. She understands that it's dangerous to get soaked in such heavy rain. You could get sick."
I glanced down at myself, my clothes nearly half-drenched. Then I looked at Mischa.
Despite the downpour, Sean had angled most of the umbrella toward her, so her clothes were mostly dry, with just a few stray raindrops blown by the wind.
But according to Sean, somehow, she was 'half-soaked.' Sean himself, on the other hand, was almost entirely wet.
Not caring about his own condition, he gently wiped her hair, neck and chest, as though handling something delicate and valuable.
"Sean, I'm soaked too. Why do you only see Mischa? Am I really that unimportant to you?" I asked.
"And earlier, downstairs, in the heavy rain, you only sheltered her with the umbrella. What about me? Did you even think of me at all?" I wanted to question him like that and I actually did say it aloud.
But as soon as Sean heard it, he flared up, "Krystal! Stop being unreasonable and getting jealous over nothing. Mischa is younger than you and she has a weaker immune system. She's your sister. Don't be so selfish, her health matters too. What if she gets sick? You're older, so you should be more considerate of her."
I hadn't even changed out of my wet clothes and the cold was beginning to seep into my bones.
At that moment, I realized that no matter what I said, in Sean's eyes, I was just being irrational and immature. This wasn't the first time Sean had scolded me over Mischa.
One time, Sean and I had planned a trip. To be honest, I had a hidden motive, I wanted us to have a child together. As the departure date approached, I felt excited.
Until I glanced at the front passenger seat and saw Mischa. My mood instantly plummeted. She greeted me with a bright smile, while Sean looked at her intently, a smile tugging at his lips.
Sean opened the back door for me, still smiling and said, "Mischa gets carsick. She needs to sit in the front where there's more airflow and less bumpiness, so she won't feel sick."
Mischa turned back to me, looking apologetic while she said, "Sorry, Krystal. I heard from Sean that you two were going on a trip and I just mentioned that I wanted to go too. He invited me right away."
"But I swear," she raised her right hand cheerfully, "I checked with Sean beforehand. He said you wouldn't mind." Mischa smiled and Sean smiled along with her.
I felt like a third wheel, intruding on their happiness. They each said their part, without ever asking for my opinion.
Trying to stand up for myself, I ended up having a big argument with Sean.
