“Then what is it? Julian Winthorpe, stop deceiving yourself!”
“Lila, July is just a money–hungry woman. She approached you only for your money. Now that her goal is achieved, of course she’d run.” Olivia pressed on, her eyes filled with triumph and provocation. “I’m telling you, Julian Winthorpe, don’t let her fool you again.
She doesn’t love you at all. She never did.”
Olivia’s voice grew louder, more shrill, completely infuriating Julian.
“Shut up!” Julian roared, delivering a furious slap across Olivia’s face.
“You… you dared to hit me?” Olivia clutched her face, staring at Julian in disbelief, her eyes wide with shock and anger.
0033 C3
“Get out! Get out of my sight!” Julian’s voice was icy, his eyes filled with disgust and rage. Olivia looked into Julian’s furious eyes, her heart filled with fear. She could feel that she had completely lost Julian. She ran crying out of the office, leaving Julian alone to
bear the pain and remorse.
But not long after Olivia left, Julian himself left the company. Alone, he went to the monastery outside the city, to my mother’s
memorial. He knelt on the ground, his hands caressing the cold memorial tablet, tears streaming down his face like broken pearls,
incessantly dripping onto the ground.
“Aunt Margaret, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…” Julian confessed in agony: “It’s my fault, all my fault. I failed Lila, I wronged her…” He bowed his head repeatedly, as if this could lessen the guilt in his heart, could atone for the mistakes he had made.
That was the last time I went to pay respects to my mother. I stood far off, watching Julian’s tortured figure, filled with sadness and
helplessness. I didn’t know how much truth, how much pretense, was in Julian’s words. I could only stand silently in the distance,
watching him do something futile. And until the sun had set, I never chose to appear before him.
Because none of it mattered anymore. People are always like this; they always lose all obsession with something they’ve pursued
for a long time, just when it’s within reach. I suppose I am such a person too.
When I heard that Julian was using every connection he had to find my whereabouts, I was sitting in an exotic café in a foreign
country, sipping afternoon tea. Seeing his image on the foreign news channel, the coffee cup in my hand trembled slightly, a few
drops of hot liquid splashing onto my skin. But I felt no pain. Today was a torrential downpour, destined to drench everything, just
like my mood.
It had been a long time since I had heard that name–Julian Winthorpe.
8
That name was once my entire life. We had weathered so many storms together, only to part in the most tragic way imaginable. I
thought time had long since healed everything, that I would never hear that name again, but I never expected him to still be searc-
hing for me.
I lowered my head, not daring to look, and as if to distract myself, gently stirred the latte in my hand. The sweetness of the milk
and the bitterness of the coffee intertwined, just like my complex emotions. I tried to pull my thoughts back to the present, remind-
ing myself that I had started a new life, and shouldn’t be troubled by the past.
These past few years, I had transformed. I left everything familiar behind, left that pain–filled homeland, and came to an entirely new environment. I embarked on a long journey, visiting places my mother had always dreamed of, stepping onto lands she had
only seen in photographs. I felt the comforting sea breeze on the beaches of Bali, tasted romantic coffee on the streets of Paris,
witnessed the great animal migration on the African savanna, and absorbed every landscape with my heart.
On my travels, I met all kinds of people, heard all sorts of stories. I slowly began to understand that the world is vast, and life holds countless possibilities. So, I stopped dwelling on past hurts and began to embrace a new life.
Not long after, I settled in a picturesque town in Southern France, opening a small shop. I sold treasures I had found during my travels, along with small, exotic handicrafts. The shop’s name was “Moments.” My life became peaceful and fulfilling. Every morni- ng, I would be woken by my alarm clock, then begin my day’s work.
Just when I thought I had completely forgotten the past, the gears of fate turned once again, I met Christopher Stone, a traveler from a neighboring country. He had bright eyes, a sunny smile, and a charming wit. Our acquaintance was quite ordinary. At a gat- hering for fellow travelers, Christopher, unlike others, wasn’t curious about my past experiences. Instead, he respected my choices and accepted my past. He told me that everyone has their own story, and the past doesn’t define everything, what matters is the present and the future.
As time passed, our feelings for each other gradually deepened. He took me to many places I had never seen, showing me more of the world’s beauty. We went diving together in Australia, waited for the aurora borealis in the Arctic Circle. He showed me his plans for the future, and my place was firmly in them. I was touched by his sincerity and acceptance. I knew he was the one truly
the world’s beauty. We went diving together in Australia, waited for the aurora borealis in the Arctic Circle. He showed me his plans for the future, and my place was firmly in them. I was touched by his sincerity and acceptance. I knew he was the one truly
right for me.
