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His words brought tears to my eyes. I no longer felt afraid, no longer hesitated. I said yes to him directly, because I knew he was worthy of my lifelong trust, and I was willing to face any future storms with him.
Married life was blissful and sweet. Christopher and I managed our little shop together. When business wasn’t busy, we traveled,
enjoying the beauty of life. We went to more places, witnessed more breathtaking scenery. Our love deepened and grew stronger
with each trip. He taught me that being together isn’t about one party giving unconditionally, but about both sides making a conce-
rted effort. Our lives grew happier day by day.
But just when I thought I had completely shed the past, by chance, I saw Julian Winthorpe’s public apology on television. He stood before the cameras, looking gaunt, his eyes filled with exhaustion and remorse. He wore a well–tailored suit, but his former vigor had long vanished, replaced by a weariness born of hardship. He then delivered a lengthy, prepared speech to the reporters:
“Lila, I know I was wrong. I hurt you, and I hurt your mother.”
“Everything I said to you, everything I did, was my mistake.”
“Every day, I live in self–reproach, wishing time could rewind, allowing me the chance to atone for my mistakes.”
“Lila, please come back. Give me a chance. Let’s return to how things were. I promise, I will spend my entire life making amends for the wrongs I’ve committed.”
Julian’s voice was deep and hoarse, but I could hear the sincerity in it.
Watching his apology, my heart remained calm. Five years had taught me to let go and find peace. I had once been consumed by pain because of his betrayal, but now, I had walked out of that shadow, I had a new life, a new love, a new happiness. Julian’s apol- ogy didn’t move me. Instead, it made me feel a little ridiculous. He had always been skilled at pretense and deception. He thought a simple apology could erase the mistakes he had made–that was indeed too laughable. What right did he have to ask me to retu- rn to his side? Some hurts cannot be mended, and some people, once missed, can never come back.
I turned off the television, no longer wanting to watch his performance. My life had entered a new chapter; I didn’t want to be troub- led by the past anymore. Every minute, every second I spent with Christopher, I was incredibly happy. I believed this was what Mot-
her would have wanted to see.
Five years after leaving my hometown, through a series of coincidences, I decided to return to my country. The first thing I did upon returning was to visit my mother’s grave, to let her know I was doing well. At the same time, I wanted to see my family and friends, catch up, and resolve a long–held wish. After all, I had left so suddenly, and many people only found out I had gone abroad much
later.
Christopher and I returned to the city I once knew so well, back to the place filled with memories. The landscape was still familiar, but my feelings had long since changed. I took Christopher to the monastery outside the city. It had been renovated, now surround- ed by lush trees, and the atmosphere was serene. My mother’s memorial hall was nestled in the quietest part of the monastery,
surrounded by green trees and a tranquil environment. When I saw the hall, I froze.
