Chapter 7: Letting Go (Or Not)

If I hadn’t shown up so suddenly, Tyler could’ve spent more time with Mia Harris. Naturally, he hated me even more.

The walk home was silent except for the sound of our footsteps on the cracked pavement. A couple of fireflies floated by, oblivious to the storm brewing between us. We passed the neighbor’s yard where a sprinkler spun, catching the last light, and the smell of cut grass was sharp in the muggy air.

On the way back, he kept his distance. He grumbled and shot questions at me, annoyed.

“You looked for me all afternoon?”

“Natalie, why are you always so idle? Don’t you have your own life?”

“My grandpa did leave you a paycheck, but as far as I know, we’re almost out of money. Is it really worth working this hard for us…?”

“Look at that girl—she’s got her own interests and talent. Not like you, always orbiting around other people, like a lost puppy. It’s really annoying.”

He didn’t even bother lowering his voice. If the neighbors heard, I hoped they’d think he was just mouthing off after a bad day.

…

I looked down, not knowing what to say.

My throat felt tight, words caught somewhere behind my teeth. I kicked a pebble, watching it bounce down the driveway, wishing I could bounce away too.

Before the accident, before the system chose me, I was just a regular person. Now, in this world, I’m not part of the main cast, don’t have any special powers—not even a family. My college tuition comes from taking care of Tyler, from the inheritance his grandfather left.

Even so, I still have to get roasted by him.

The system chimed in, twisting the knife.

“Host, Tyler’s negativity just spiked again. When he was with the main girl, his emotions were so stable… Looks like compared to you, she makes him way happier!”

Its smugness grated on me, like a little sibling poking at a bruise.

—Honestly, it’s obvious.

But, since the main girl can calm him better than I can, why do they even need a background character like me?

Anyway, after hearing about the Taylor family’s bankruptcy, the main girl’s family is also looking for Tyler. If I send Tyler to Mia Harris, wouldn’t that make everyone happy?

Once I had that thought, I couldn’t shake it.

I ran up to Tyler and grabbed his sleeve, hands trembling so hard I almost lost my nerve. My voice cracked, thin as tissue. “Tyler, if I quit this job and stop staying by your side—if someone else takes care of you, would you feel better?”

A pretty dumb question, but I’m not great with words anyway.

He looked up at me and fell silent. After a while, his whole body went cold. He sneered.

“You really think you matter that much? Newsflash: you’re just the help.”

“If you want to leave, then go ahead. I don’t need you at all.”

He wrenched his arm from my grip, stomping up the porch steps. The screen door banged shut behind him, leaving me standing in the glow of the bug zapper, feeling smaller than ever.

Honestly, I think so too.

So that night, I told the system I’d decided to give up on Tyler—

My hands shook as I typed out the message, the cursor blinking like an accusation.

The system didn’t give me a hard time. It checked Tyler’s mental state and soon agreed my idea made sense.

“Yeah, the main girl’s side is better for him. Send Tyler to Mia Harris… I’ll give you her contact info. I’ll get you a new assignment later.”

After that, the system faded out.

The silence after it left felt heavy, like a room after an argument when everyone just goes to bed angry.

I looked at my phone. Sure enough, the main girl’s Instagram handle popped up—

I hovered over the Follow button, heart pounding, then tapped it. It felt like setting a bird free, not knowing if it’ll fly or fall.

I followed her.

“Hi. I’m the girl you met today. Is your family looking for someone named Tyler Taylor?”

My thumbs hovered, second-guessing every word. Was I really doing the right thing?

Just like in the original, the main girl’s family really was looking for Tyler. Her grandfather, after hearing about the Taylors’ misfortune, specifically asked his son to bring his granddaughter back to the States.

The Harris family had roots here—old photos in the local museum, a brick at the town library with their name on it. They didn’t forget debts.

So soon, Mia Harris replied to me:

‘Tyler Taylor? Did I hear that right? The Taylor family that does art collection and trading?’

‘We really are looking for him. His grandfather saved my grandpa’s life back in the day. If he’s having a hard time now, our family can help.’

Her text came with a smiley face and a little paint palette emoji, like she was already picturing Tyler fitting in.

I paused, organized my words, and replied,

‘Yes. Tyler’s mental health isn’t great. The doctor says he shouldn’t be left alone. I’m planning to resign. Would you be willing to take him in?’

The message bubble hovered for a moment, then disappeared, swallowed by the quiet night. I sat there, wondering if this was the right kind of goodbye, or just another way to fail at caring for someone who never wanted me in the first place.

I hit send, heart pounding. Maybe this was goodbye—or maybe, for the first time, it was a chance for both of us to start over.