INICIAR SESIÓNOn Valentine’s Day, my girlfriend Florence Higgins was rushed to the hospital after accidentally eating undercooked wild mushrooms. Half-conscious on the hospital bed, she murmured, “Michael… I owed you too much. If my family’s company hadn’t been on the brink of collapse, you wouldn’t have left, and I wouldn’t have ended up with Noah.” I am Noah Owens. As for Michael Connor, he was the love of her life. The one she cherished most during her youth. What she seemed to forget was that when her family’s company was about to collapse, Michael had been the first to walk away. During those seven years, I was the one who helped revive her company, the one who stayed by her side. I believed she might eventually have a change of heart, but I never expected her to abort our child for the sake of her first love. At that moment, I finally understood that you can’t force warmth where there is none.
Ver másAfter Florence left that day, she did not truly give up. Instead, she became a presence outside my shop that I could not ignore.Every day, she stood at the entrance with a bouquet, from the first pale light of morning until the streetlamps came on at night, sampling nearly every noodle dish and snack on the menu.Her stubborn persistence left me feeling helpless.Madeline tried several times to drive her away, but I stopped her each time.I figured Florence could stay if she wanted. At worst, she was adding to the shop’s turnover. Money, after all, was something she never lacked.This went on for more than two weeks, until one day the number of customers suddenly dropped.That morning, as I prepared ingredients in the kitchen, I heard Madeline call out to me.“Come take a look at this.”I leaned out of the kitchen and glanced at her.Since Florence had come looking for me, Madeline had grown closer to me.The cash register seemed to have developed a printing obsession, s
In a quiet corner of the city, I opened a small noodle shop. Life moved slowly, so I settled into a routine, opening from ten in the morning until four in the evening. Occasionally, I would close early to accompany my father to the hospital.After some time, the shop’s business began to flourish. I could no longer manage it alone, so I decided to hire an assistant. Madeline Poldark had once been a regular customer. She always picked a corner to sit quietly, typing away on her laptop. I had always found her name lovely. It felt like a pure, innocent presence in the world. When I mentioned it to her, she smiled shyly.Day by day, we grew familiar. When I learned she had struggled to find work while I needed help, I invited her to join the shop. Like me, she had a hearing impairment, though her left ear could still perceive sound.One busy afternoon, I was buried in the kitchen, preparing desserts for sale, when Madeline told me a customer was asking for me by name.
Only I understood that once a heart had been broken, it could never be restored to its original form. Beneath the tranquil sea, hidden currents often surged in silence, unseen and unforgiving.Because of this sudden upheaval, my wedding to Florence had to be postponed for three months. She became obsessed with finding unique wedding ideas and eagerly presented each one to me.“Let’s have a forest wedding! Imagine walking out from between the trees—it would be so romantic!”She spoke with sparkling eyes, as if the entire world hinged on this celebration. Previously, I had arranged every detail of the wedding alone. Whenever I sought her input, she would brush it off, “You decide,” or, “I’m busy, don’t bother me with these little things.”Now, watching her excitement, I offered nothing but emotional support, praising each proposal with sincerity. This seemed to encourage her, and she threw herself into the planning with renewed energy.Once, as she spoke with particular en
When I opened my eyes again, I was already lying in a hospital bed.Florence stayed by my side. When she saw me wake up, her eyes instantly reddened.I instinctively reached up to touch my forehead, and the wound throbbed with pain.The doctor said my head injury wasn’t serious, just a mild concussion.But I had a cracked rib and needed lots of rest.During the days I was unconscious, I had a dream. I dreamed of a child who looked a little like me and a little like Florence, waving at me.“Goodbye, Dad.”I looked at Florence.“Did you have an abortion?”Florence froze. She struggled for an answer, but the guilt in her eyes had already betrayed her.“Why?” I asked weakly.“You need to understand… I’m at a critical stage of my career right now. This isn’t the time to have a child.”I let out a laugh. Whether it was really about her career or because Michael had returned, she knew better than I did.I fell silent, my emotions tangled beyond sorting.That child had co






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