His Wild Kitten

My uncle was 12 years older than me, and he taught me many firsts in my life.

I liked him, but I never liked the women he brought home.

I hid outside his bedroom door, feeling as if my heart was being torn apart.

Suddenly, the door creaked open.

A woman with a flushed face stood in front of me, clearly shocked to see me.

Then, he appeared behind her, wearing only a bathrobe.

"This is your..."

The woman leaned into him again, her voice so sweet it could drip honey.

"My niece." He glanced at me and said it lightly.

"Oh... how cute." The woman, still confused, smiled and extended her hand to me.

I ignored her and only stared at him.

"Go," he said coldly to the woman, his usual detached tone.

Over the years, he had brought home countless women, but I could never get used to it.

Once the woman left, he lazily turned to go back to his room.

I stood at the door, biting my lip, then followed him into the bedroom.

He paused, halfway through removing his robe, and slightly turned his face. "Cathryn, get out."

"No," I stubbornly stood my ground.

He sighed helplessly, lit a cigarette, and sat in the chair, his head tilted slightly as he watched me through the swirling smoke.

"When did you get back? Why didn't I know?"

I thought he would scold me for eavesdropping or give me a lecture on not having any thoughts about him, even saying harsh words like telling me never to come back.

But he didn't. This left me unable to deliver the lines I had prepared.

"So what if you know? You still bring different women back all the same." I couldn't help but let my emotions seep in.

"The little girl has grown up, now with a temper." He laughed softly, took a few more drags from his cigarette, and locked his eyes on my face.

"How did you get back here?"

"By bus." I didn't understand why he always danced around the subject.

He stubbed out the cigarette, walked to the door, and opened it, signaling for me to leave.

I stood there stubbornly for a few seconds, and seeing the dark, intense look in his eyes, I became afraid that he might get angry, so I slowly walked toward the door.

"Next time you want to come, call me first," he said sternly, leaving no room for argument.

I bit my lip as I walked out, silently repeating in my heart.

"No, I won't."

He watched me, and seeing I didn't respond, he sighed and softened his tone. "The bus ride is uncomfortable. Next time, I'll send someone to pick

you up."

Something inside me stirred as I turned to meet his unreadable eyes. "Are you so kind to me just because of my parents'

last wishes?"

He was startled for a moment before answering in a calm, indifferent

voice, "Yes."

His honesty stung deeply. I turned away immediately, holding back my tears. "I don't need that kind

of care."

With that, I left without looking back, heading downstairs.

2

His name was Kevan Barrett, and he was 32 years old.

When I lost my parents at 12, I stayed with Kevan.

Whenever he introduced me to others, it was always as his niece. In fact, he was even more distant now, and this upset me.

I had had enough of being his niece. I only wanted to be his girlfriend now.

I stood in front of the mirror in my room, fuming.

The reflection staring back at me was nothing like the curvy, sharp-tongued women he brought home who could easily win him over.

As I wallowed in self-pity, I received a message from my roommate, Harlee Wells.

"Cathryn, I'm going out tonight. If my mom calls, just say I'm

with you."

I replied with a simple, "Okay."

Harlee was a pro at relationship, and even though we were only sophomores, she had already gone through several boyfriends. I envied how she could have men wrapped around her finger so effortlessly.

Suddenly, an idea flashed in my mind.

I sent her another message, "Harlee, how can you make a guy fall

for you?"

As soon as I sent it, I regretted it. I was grasping at straws.

"To make him fall for you? Just break it down, and you'll get the answer."

Her cryptic response left me puzzled.

I pondered over it for a long time until I finally understood what she meant.

I dug out a black lace outfit I had bought ages ago, quickly put it on, and stood in front of the mirror.

I could hardly look at myself in the mirror.

I had always been taught to be a modest and well-behaved girl,

but then I thought about all the women Kevan had brought home over the past few months. Determined, I wrapped myself in a towel and stepped out.

It was dark outside, and I didn't turn on the lights, padding barefoot to the kitchen.

I milled around the kitchen, waiting for him to arrive.

He had a bad throat from smoking too much, so he often came down at night for a glass of water.

Sure enough, I soon heard the sound of his slippers coming down the stairs.

My heart pounded in my chest as the footsteps got closer.

I told myself not to back down and loosened the towel a bit.

When he saw me, I'd feign surprise, and the towel would slip off just as I planned.

Everything was perfect and flawless.

I anticipated the moment when his composure would break.

But the moment he walked in and I let out a startled cry, before the towel could fall, a suit jacket flew over and covered me from head to toe.

I was dumbfounded.

"Why didn't you turn on the light? Trying to scare someone?"

His tone was calm, without a hint of emotion.

I watched as he opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, gulped it down, and then turned to leave.

The whole time, I stood frozen, unsure of what to do.

Finally, I pulled his suit jacket off, along with

"Kevan, I'm not a child anymore. I'm 20 years old now,"

I mustered all my courage to break through the wall between us.

"I'm a woman now. Can't

you see?"

I closed my eyes and said it.

But the house was silent.

When I opened my eyes, he was already gone, and I was left standing alone in the kitchen, my reflection in the moonlight looking tragically brave.

He had left?

Did I just confess to thin air?

I didn't know how to describe the mess of emotions inside me.

Shortly after, my phone buzzed with a message.

"I'm going out of town. Tomorrow, Nick will take you back

to school."

When I looked at the message, my heart sank.

3

The next time I saw Kevan was half a month later at his parents' house.

During this time, aside from sending me one or two Whatsapp messages asking if I had enough money, he didn't say much else.

I wanted to confront him in person and ask why he was avoiding me, why he wasn't messaging me.

But instead, he came home hand-in-hand with a woman. While we ate, the woman placed food on his plate, and he didn't refuse.

I held my fork but couldn't eat anything, consumed by jealousy.

I excused myself to the bathroom and messaged Harlee. "If a man doesn't call you for half a month and only sends one or two Whatsapp messages, what does it mean?"

"It means he's not interested in you."

I could imagine Harlee's certainty as she said this. "Who's this guy anyway? Why haven't you won him over yet?"

I stared at my phone screen, feeling a little sad.

So, he really wasn't interested in me.

"What does it mean when a man brings a woman to his parents' house for a meal?"

I still held onto a sliver of hope, refusing to give up.

But in the next second, that hope was crushed again.

"It means he's serious about her and wants to spend his life with her. Did you go to his parents' house for a meal? Congratulations."

Harlee sent a long string of messages after that, but I didn't want to read them. It felt like my heart was bleeding.

I stopped eating and hid in Kevan's room.

He didn't seem to notice anything unusual and went straight to the bathroom with his clothes.

I gritted my teeth, took off my clothes, and hastily put on one of his shirts before heading to the bathroom.

With a sense of reckless determination, I stood in front of him.

He was lying in the bathtub, eyes closed, seemingly asleep. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and was surprised to see me, then frowned.

His gaze made me uneasy, unsure of where to put my hands or feet.

At that moment, I was terrified. I was afraid he would be disappointed in me, afraid he would get angry and never see me again.

He just rubbed his temples, as if trying to suppress his anger, and then returned to a calm expression.

"Why aren't you eating?"

"I don't have an appetite." I bit my lip, hating his occasional concern and even more so his long periods of indifference. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got, so I asked directly,

"Are you going to marry that

woman downstairs?"

He was stunned for a moment, then his expression turned serious. "That's not something a child should be

concerned with."

"Why her?" I clenched my fists, palms sweating.

"Why not her?"

"Because..." I struggled with whether it was worth going all in. In the end, I lost control of my emotions. "Because I like you. I want to be with

you, Kevan."

We stood there in silence for a few seconds. He sighed helplessly. "Cathryn, stop

messing around."

"I'm not messing around.

I'm serious."

"Do you even know what you're saying?"

He stared into my eyes. "I'm your uncle."

"No, you're not,"

I retorted. "We're not even related by blood. Why do I have to call

you Uncle?"

I must have hit a nerve because he was speechless for a moment. He waved his hand dismissively. "Go out.

This is inappropriate."

"No," I refused to back down. I wanted an answer.

He seemed to be at his wit's end, his voice suddenly soft, coaxing me. "Cathryn,

be good. Go out. This isn't good

for you."

"I don't care," I stubbornly replied.

"There are consequences you can't handle!"

He finally snapped, his eyes filled with anger, and I was terrified.

Despite my fear, I remained rebellious. Without thinking, I impulsively jumped into the bathtub.

Beneath the bubbles, his warm body made me freeze like a fool.

I had imagined countless times being this close to him, but now that I was, I was so nervous that I froze completely.

Compared to my anxiety, Kevan was overly calm. The calmer he was, the more nervous I became.

In the end, the one who impulsively jumped at him was me, and the one whose face was flushed with embarrassment was also me.

"Not getting up?" His voice floated above me, slightly hoarse and somewhat helpless.

I reached out my hands to try to push myself up, but I didn't know where to put them for leverage. I looked at his chest, his abdomen, his arms. It seemed inappropriate to press anywhere. In the end, I gave up, looking at him miserably. "I...

I can't get up."

He glanced at me, then suddenly laughed. In the next second, he pulled the towel around me and wrapped me up entirely, lifting me out of the bathtub. Then, he got up himself and put on a bathrobe.

After getting himself sorted, he handed me a towel and a hair dryer with a blank expression, instructing me, "Dry your hair. I'll have Jayme bring up your clothes in a bit."

With that, he was about to leave.

"Kevan." I couldn't help but call out to him, afraid he wouldn't speak to me anymore.

He paused. "What happened today, what was said today, I'll pretend I never heard it. Don't be willful again in the future."

After finishing, he left the bathroom without hesitation, leaving me standing there alone, tears streaming down my face.

4 Later, Kevan still sent me back to school.

We sat in the back seat of the car, neither of us saying a word.

He seemed really busy. His phone didn't stop ringing.

But he barely spoke, just occasionally responding with a simple "hmm."

He clearly saw my red and swollen eyes from crying, yet he didn't say a single comforting word, which made me furious.

"Kevan, do you really not want to talk to me that much?"

Just as he ended one call, another ringtone started. I finally couldn't take it anymore.

He paused for a moment, and his hand holding the phone finally lowered.

The phone kept vibrating, filling the car with an awkward tension.

"Cathryn, you've grown up. There are some things you already understand without me having to explain them."

He rubbed his temples, clearly troubled by the situation.

"I don't understand, Kevan. I don't understand. Why can't I like you? Just because you took care of me under my parents' wishes, I'm only allowed to be your niece?"

He didn't say anything, just looked at me in silence.

"In these eight years, have you never liked me, even a little?"

The more silent he was, the more I wanted to shout.

He still didn't respond, just silently took out a cigarette, turned his head, lit it, and rolled down the window, staring outside.

"No."

As soon as I started speaking, tears streamed down uncontrollably again. The word felt like a sharp knife, tearing my heart apart.

"You're lying."

He suddenly turned to look at me, his eyes filled with complex emotions. He took a deep breath before speaking, "Cathryn, you're only 20. You still have so much ahead of you-your friends, your studies, and later your boyfriend.

You have your own life, and I will have mine.

I'll get married, have my own family, and children. You will gradually no longer need me. Do you understand?"

When he finished, he stared at me, his gaze deep and unfathomable.

Hearing him talk about having his own family and children left my mind completely blank.

"Stop the car." Suddenly, I lost my patience.

The driver in front heard it and glanced at Kevan.

"Stop the car. I want to get out."

I had enough of this suffocating atmosphere and just wanted to escape.

"Cathryn, don't act out."

His voice softened as he spoke to me.

"You always want things your way. What am I to you?"

I frantically reached for the car door.

"Stop the car." He sharply ordered the driver to stop.

I got out of the car resolutely and slammed the door behind me.

He didn't get out. But no matter where I walked, the car followed slowly behind.

I didn't have the energy to care. I just walked aimlessly along the road, my mind in a complete mess.

Later, it started to drizzle. At some point, he had appeared behind me, holding an umbrella, silently following.

"Kevan, you keep telling me to stay away, to not have any illusions about you, but then you do things like this that make me misunderstand. Don't you think that's cruel?"

I turned back, accidentally bumping into his chest. His reflexes kicked in, and he reached out to protect my head.

He froze for a few seconds, then finally took my hand and pushed the umbrella into it. "Send me a message when you get to your dorm."

With that, he turned and walked into the rain without looking back.

He was so tall, and his back so straight.

Over the past eight years, it was that same figure who gave me support on every lonely, fearful night, pulling me out of my darkest moments.

But in the blink of an eye, he now wanted to draw a clear line between us, telling me he was going to live his own life, and that his life would no longer include me. It felt like someone had ripped a piece of flesh out of me, and the pain was so intense I couldn't breathe.

But I also knew, just as he said, he took care of me only because of my parents' dying wish. I was just a responsibility to him.

There were no other feelings involved.

Everything was just my own wishful thinking.

When I got back to my dorm, I immediately blocked him on Whatsapp and deleted all his contact information.

I knew how pathetic I was being. My skin was thick enough to withstand this much. He had already made it clear he didn't accept me, maybe even despised me, and I should just let it go.

Later, the whole dorm knew I had gone through a breakup.

But none of them had any idea who it was I had broken up with.

"Cathryn, there are so many good men in the world. Why are you hanging yourself from just one tree?"

"Exactly! You're so pretty, and there are so many guys in our class who like you."

"The best way to get over a breakup is to start a new relationship."

My roommates were all enthusiastically offering advice on how to fix my bad mood.

I couldn't help but laugh and cry at the same time.

"Cathryn, I'm going to a party with my boyfriend tomorrow. Want to come with me?"

Harlee suddenly leaned close to my ear and whispered, "It'll be full of tall, rich, and handsome men. I'm sure you'll find someone you like."

My first reaction was to refuse.

But after a second thought, I realized I should really start looking at other men. My world shouldn't revolve around someone who didn't love me.

So the next day, under Harlee's persuasion, I put on a black slip dress, slipped into high heels, and went to the party.

The party was full of successful men in suits. Harlee, linked arm in arm with her thirty-something-year-old boyfriend, moved smoothly among them, and I found myself somewhat admiring her.

I sat alone on the sofa, and suddenly thought of Kevan.

Maybe he needed a girlfriend like Harlee-beautiful, poised, with a bright personality who could lighten the mood and make him proud.

And someone like me, who got nervous just seeing a crowd, who didn't dare to look around, would surely be an embarrassment.

Thinking about that made me angry.

I was angry at myself for being protected by Kevan too well all these years, never having participated in social events like this, and never having bothered to learn the nuances of social etiquette.

I picked up a glass of red wine, mimicking Harlee's casual style, and downed it in one gulp.

Before this, I had never had a drink. Kevan never allowed it. He said girls who drank could easily get taken advantage of.

I used to always listen to him, but now I didn't want to anymore.

So, I drank a few more glasses.

By the time my head started spinning from the alcohol, the crowd suddenly erupted with excitement. In a daze, I looked over towards the commotion.

Then I saw Kevan.

He entered the hall surrounded by people, like a superstar.

Was I hallucinating? Why was he here?

In the next second, I sobered up a bit, because I noticed a woman holding onto his left arm.

It was that same woman from the last dinner-Kathleen Harvey.

Her face had a serene smile, and she was wearing a dress that accentuated her curves in all the right places. She was graceful and elegant, making all the other women present seem inferior.

I watched her standing next to Kevan, greeting everyone, while he stood by casually, smiling from time to time. They were the perfect pair-talented man and beautiful woman.

Suddenly, I understood why Kevan had finally been won over by her.

I felt like a deflated balloon, completely out of energy.

5 Just as I was about to sneak away in defeat, a woman's voice rang out.

"Kevan, isn't this your niece?"

Kathleen smiled at me in greeting.

All eyes turned to me at once, and in an instant, I felt a tingling sensation on my scalp.

"Cathryn, right? Who did you come with?"

she asked as she pulled Kevan toward me.

I looked up and saw a surprised look flash across Kevan's face, quickly followed by displeasure.

"With my classmate," I answered truthfully.

I wanted to leave, not wanting to stay a second longer.

"Niece? Mr. Barrett, since when did you have such a pretty niece?"

"Yeah, you've been keeping her hidden all this time?"

"Hey, miss, I'm your uncle's friend. Come sit with your uncle's group."

A bunch of men in suits began making jokes.

I stood there awkwardly.

"Miss, come over here, don't hang out with them. They're all bad men."

A younger man walked over, grabbed my wrist, and tried to pull me over to his table.

"Declan," Kevan, who hadn't spoken a word until now, suddenly called out the man's name in a warning tone.

"What's the matter, Kevan? Stop acting so stern all the time. You're scaring your niece!"

Declan Riley playfully pushed Kevan aside and tried to drag me away. "Come on, don't hang out with your uncle. He's no fun. I'll take care of you."

My head was buzzing as Declan pulled me along.

As we passed Kevan, he stared at me and suddenly asked, "Have you been drinking?"

"Why do you care if she's had a drink? You're so boring," Declan interrupted.

I didn't want to deal with Kevan either. I just wanted someone to take me out of there.

But just as I took a step forward, Kevan's hand grabbed my other wrist. "Go home. This isn't a place for you," Kevan said.

I felt like he was humiliating me, as if I wasn't refined enough and had embarrassed him by coming here.

Clenching my teeth, I shook off his hand and said to Declan, "Declan, I'd like to go get some fresh air."

"Ah...sure." Declan laughed boldly and even gave Kevan a mocking look.

Kevan must have been furious because just before I left, he called out my full name in a low, stern voice,

"Cathryn Wilson."

In the past, when Kevan called me by my full name, I knew I had gone too far. But now, I suddenly wanted to see him angry. There was a twisted sense of satisfaction in seeing his frustration.

I shook off his hand and left the banquet hall with Declan without looking back.

Declan put me in the passenger seat, buckled my seatbelt, and looked at me with amusement.

Where to?" my voice was soft and weak. "

"I'll take you for a drive to clear your head. Are you up for it?"

he asked with a smile.

"Of course." I forced my eyes open to look at him and concluded that he was just a playboy. "Wherever you go,

I'll go."

He suddenly chuckled again.

"Interesting."

With that, the car started moving.

The effects of the wine were hitting me hard, and I felt like my whole body was on fire.

After that, my thoughts became a blur, and I don't remember what he said along the way.

"Declan, can you find me a place to sleep?"

I suddenly interrupted him. I meant it literally, but I wasn't sure if he took it the wrong way.

My head felt so heavy, and I was so dizzy. I just wanted to sleep.

"Are you sure?" he raised an eyebrow at me, teasingly. "Your uncle will skin

me alive."

At the mention of Kevan, my head throbbed even more.

The thought of him bringing his girlfriend to the party while I made a fool of myself only made me angrier.

"Are you close with my uncle?"

I suddenly asked Declan.

He paused for a moment, then glanced at me with a grin.

"Not really."

"If not, then why do you care about him?"

I mumbled, slumping into the passenger seat, too tired to stay upright.

"Such a rebellious girl." Though Declan said that, he still found a place to take me.

What happened after that was a bit of a blur. I thought I fell asleep.

Later, I was woken up by the sound of a phone ringing.

"I didn't touch her! I swear I didn't touch her.

Kevan, are you even human? I took your niece in out of kindness, and you repay me like this?

Bro, she insisted on coming here. I didn't do anything. She's sleeping right now.

Not that kind of sleeping. She's asleep and I'm not.

She's just drunk. Damn it. How am I supposed to explain this?

Do you have to be such a psycho? I'm doing you a favor, and you're threatening to take my business deals?

Fine, fine, I'll send her back just as she is.

Don't destroy my company.

I'm begging you."

I groggily opened my eyes to see Declan hanging up and walking toward me.

"You awake?"

He leaned over the bed, looking at me with a mixture of tenderness and helplessness. "You might want to get up. I have to take you back."

"Back where?" I asked, still foggy from sleep.

"Where do you think?" he asked with a smirk, then laughed. "If I don't send you back soon, your uncle's going to flatten my company."

I stared at him for a few seconds, feeling both sorry and annoyed with Kevan. "You don't have to listen to him. He's too busy to worry about me."

"You blocked him on Whatsapp? And his phone too?"

he suddenly asked, laughing.

"Yeah," I replied honestly.

"Hahaha, you're something else. You must've been sent to put that psycho in his place."

Declan stood up and made space for me. "Get up. I'll take you back. Your uncle said if you're not back in half an hour, he'll finish me off."

"Okay."

Seeing how exasperated he was, I felt like I'd caused him enough trouble and didn't want to linger any longer.