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Chapter 3

Author: Twenty-Three
The crowd fell silent for a moment before resuming its lively chatter.

Devin walked toward me as he held a glass of wine.

“Neil, it’s been a long time.”

I held my glass.

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

He swirled the red wine in his glass.

“Cyra said that if you hadn’t been transferred back then, she would’ve agonized over her decision for a long time.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, thank you for stepping aside back then. Without your sacrifice, we wouldn’t be where we are today.” His smile appeared pure and sincere.

My hands were shaking, and a few drops of wine spilled onto my slacks.

“Devin.” I looked him in the eyes. “Did you know that when you and her got together, I was on a construction site in the Northwest at minus 22 degrees Fahrenheit? I was running a fever of 104 degrees Fahrenheit, and I nearly died.”

He blinked.

“What of it…?”

“I called her seventeen times, but no one answered.”

“That day was our anniversary.”

He smiled.

“She was helping me pick out a watch.”

I took a deep breath.

He then added, “It was a limited-edition watch. The one with the starry sky dial.”

I had checked out that watch with her five years ago.

Back then, I had said, “When I get back from this project, I’ll buy it for you.”

So, she was not waiting for me after all.

I set down my glass and turned to leave.

Cyra had appeared behind me at some point.

She looked at me with a complex expression.

“Neil…”

“Don’t call my name,” I said. “It disgusts me.”

When I walked out of the banquet hall, it was raining outside.

I stood under the eaves and watched the curtain of rain blur the city into a single, indistinct mass.

Then, I heard footsteps behind me.

Cyra had come running after me.

She was holding an umbrella, and she handed it to me.

“Take this. You’ll catch a cold otherwise.”

“What’s it to you?”

She was silent for a moment.

“I know you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” I said.

“I just feel like I wasted five years on an animal.”

“Those five years—”

“Those five years…” I interrupted her. “...I worked sixteen hours a day in the Fopi Desert, had two stomach hemorrhages, and lost my hair by the handful.

“I endured it all because I kept telling myself that once I came back, I could marry you.”

Her face went pale.

However, I laughed. “But you, during those five years, you were all lovey-dovey with someone else. You even had a child.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Does saying ‘I’m sorry’ even help?”

I stared at her.

“Cyra, you’ve made it impossible for me to even hate you. You’ve made me feel like a joke.”

The rain was getting heavier and heavier.

She opened her umbrella and tried to tilt it toward me.

I pushed her hand away and walked out into the rain.

The rain was very cold as it soaked me through.

A week later, I got a call from home.

The voice of my father, Daniel Spencer, trembled over the phone.

“Neil, your mother’s in the hospital!”

I rushed back home to find my mother, Maren Spencer, lying in a hospital bed. She had already been suffering from high blood pressure, and she was hooked up to a ventilator.

My father grabbed my hand.

“Someone sent your mother a letter saying that you… that you’ve been fooling around and leading an immoral private life.”

“I would never!”

“There are photos!”

My father’s eyes were red and teary. “There are intimate photos of you with a married woman and statements from people at your company.”

I snatched the envelope.

The photos inside were photoshopped, and the chat logs were forged.

Even so, they looked incredibly realistic.

“Mom, let me explain…”

My mother opened her eyes and looked at me for a long time.

“I believe you.”

Her lips twitched.

Then, she closed her eyes, and the ECG monitor emitted a shrill alarm.

The doctor rushed in to perform CPR.

I was shooed out of the ward.

Cyra was standing outside the door and holding a fruit basket.

“I came to visit your mother,” she said.

A nurse walked by and whispered, “Ms. Stern is such a kind person. She even came to visit her ex-boyfriend’s mother.”

I looked at her before suddenly lunging forward and slapping her hard across the face.

The fruit basket fell to the floor, and the fruit scattered everywhere.

“You did this!”

“I don’t know anything…”

“You don’t know?”

I grabbed her by the collar.

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    “Give me a chance to make it up to you.”I crouched down, looked Cyra in the eye, and told her, “Do you know what regret is? Regret is when you’ve lost the chance to make things right forever. My mother is dead, my youth is gone, and my body is ruined. “How are you going to make up for that?”She broke down and wailed hysterically.I turned and walked toward the boarding gate without looking back.As the plane took off, I received a message from her.[I’m sorry. I love you.]I looked at the message and recalled the indifferent expression on her face when she said, “I purposely had you transferred.” Then, I deleted her contact information.Love?Did she even deserve to utter that word?After returning to the Northwest, I threw myself into my work.The new project progressed smoothly, and the team I led won an international award.At the awards ceremony, the host introduced me while announcing, “This young scientist spent five years persevering in harsh conditions to fill a

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