7
“She even caused her own mother to commit suicide. What do you even like
to completely erase me from Julian’s memory.
a woman like that?” Olivia taunted, attempting
“Olivia Reed!” Julian suddenly lifted his head, his eyes burning with fury and hatred: “Shut up! What do you know? You have no right to ever speak her name!”
“For you? She abandoned her own mother for you?” Olivia’s voice was sharp, every word like a knife, viciously stabbing at Julian’s heart.
“Nonsense!” Julian retorted furiously.
“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.
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.
15.05
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.
