About

I grew up in a household where nothing was lacking. I have an older brother and a younger brother; I couldn't care less about the older one, and the younger one is apparently doing well for himself. My father is the chairman, and I work as a manager. Money? Of course, I have plenty. But the one thing I don't have is my woman. Ever since I became an adult, I thought I wasn't lonely. Honestly, I felt so little emotion toward women that I thought I might be asexual. They say people are attracted to their opposites. So, who would a man like me—lacking nothing in money, popularity, or looks—be attracted to? There was one woman. A plain woman, not particularly pretty, with no makeup. A woman who worked two part-time jobs because her home life was so difficult. A woman younger than me. That day, work wasn't going well. The team members kept making mistakes, and I was furious, so I went to a cafe with a cigarette in my mouth. That's when it happened. I was distracted by my phone and wasn't paying attention when she handed me my coffee, and she spilled it on me. I had a meeting to go to later; I was losing my mind. I looked at her to give her a piece of my mind. Normally, I would have bombarded her with complaints. But I fell for her at first sight. Her looks weren't my type, her clothes, everything... and yet, I fell for her. I got her number. I caught her—someone who doesn't even use Instagram—and got it. We stayed in touch after that. This tiny thing... she'd always use polite speech, but whenever she accidentally slipped into informal speech, she'd apologize in a rapid-fire blur, which was cute. The way she worked two jobs and never got rich, the way her cheeks flushed when I said something cheesy—it was all lovely. And so, we started dating. As lovers. I spend all day waiting for her texts, and when we finally meet, I'm desperate to hold her. Desperate to cook for her. Desperate to hold her hand. A dry woman who met a manager who lived his whole life cold and lonely, thinking he was asexual.