<b>Chapter </b><b>414</b>Ccontent ? exclusive by N?/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.
Rain pelted the car windows relentlessly. Looking out, the world seemed draped in an otherworldly mist, bizarre and elusive.
I chuckled lightly, “So, when is this expert you mentioned arriving in Vista
Town?”
Bryant replied, “Day after tomorrow, I
“Alright.”
guess.”
I nodded, my hand reaching for the car door handle. “Then, I’ll be off.”
“Let me walk you out.”
“No need, my car’s just over there.”
“I insist.”
His words took me by surprise, but then I saw him reaching for an umbre on the passenger seat and understood his intention.
With a ck, long–handled umbre, he braved the curtain of rain around the car, opening the door for me. “Let’s go.”
Water had pooled along the sides of the road, making our footsteps unusually
distinct.
We walked side by side to my car. As I opened the door and got in, I noticed he was soaked on one side. I didn’t say much, just a simple, “Thanks.”
With that, I shut the door with a thud, started the car, and pressed down on the elerator.
In the rearview mirror, I saw him standing there under the umbre, watching the direction of my car intently. But I didn’t slow down.
Maybe, in some ways, I’m someone who loves deeply yet can let gopletely. When in love, I desire it to be unforgettable, earth–shattering. <b>But </b>when fate ends, even an extra word or nce feels unnecessary.
Watching the departing car, Bryant stood in the <b>rain </b><b>for </b><b>a </b><b>long </b><b>time</b>. <b>He</b>
pondered, perhaps understanding for the <b>first </b>time what Jane <b>felt </b><b>each </b><b>time </b>he left her behind. A suffocating difort gripped his heart.
A cyclist sshed by, covering him in mud, but he barely noticed. All <b>he </b><b>could </b>focus on was the reluctance in his gaze.
Not until my car disappeared did Bryant slowly make his way back to his <b>own </b>vehicle. He dialed a number, his voice hoarse, “Drink?”
“Yeah, the usual spot?”
“Mhm.”
“Got it.”
On the other end, Steven excused himself from a drinking session and called a ride to their usual hangout. He wasn’t surprised.
Over the past two years, Bryant, who used to have no vices, now indulged in smoking and drinking privately. He numbed the pain of Jane’s death with alcohol and cigarettes while still on his bipr medication. But he never dared mention it directly, remembering a friend who did and got a fierce beating from Bryant.
Jane’s body was never found. Bryant refused to ept her death. He continued to prepare extravagant gifts for their anniversary and Valentine’s Day as before. He visited Jane’s adoptive parents‘ graves on every anniversary.
No matter how drunk, he insisted on being taken back to LunarLakeBay Vis, the house he and Jane shared. The media jested that Mr. Ferguson was henpecked. Only Steven knew, Bryant couldn’t move on.
When Steven arrived at their spot, the table was alreadyden with an assortment of drinks – foreign, domestic, beers, spirits. Bryant raised his ss in greeting, “You’re here?”
Then, he downed it in one go.
Steven settled next to him, clicking his tongue, “You called me over <b>to </b><b>watch </b>you drink yourself into a hospital visit?”
Bryant cracked a wry smile, pouring another <b>drink</b>. <b>“</b><b>Who </b><b>took </b><b>you </b><b>to </b><b>the</b>
<b>YA</b>
<b>09</b>:140
hospital when you and Christine broke up?”
“Man, don’t start with that.”
Steven hadn’t expected him to dig up old wounds right away and quickly changed the subject. “So, what’s up? The doctor you found for her, she’s not going for it?”
“It’s not that.”
Bryant yed with his ss, the defined lines of his fingers tapping against the rim. “Can’t quite put my finger on it, but something’s off.”
Everything felt different. She seemed distant, devoid of emotions, evencking resistance or disdain. Only when talking about the doctor who could cure her grandmother did he see a flicker of emotion, a smile on her face. At other times, it was as if she wore a mask, creating a sense of distance he couldn’t bridge.
Steven casually picked up a ss, filled it, and dropped an ice cube in, lounging back. “I told you before, your approach wouldn’t work. What’s with respecting and yielding to her?”
“Bro, you think you’re some kind of guru with these enlightenment tactics?”
Steven was clearly skeptical. “In my opinion, love is all about the chase, making it impossible for her to escape. Once you reach the point of mutual respect and letting each other be, that’s when it’s truly over, no spark left.”
“You seem to have all the theories down.”
Bryant scoffed, then somberly added, “What about you and Christine? How did that end?”
Steven took arge gulp of his drink. The alcohol burned, but he seemed unfazed, ncing at Bryant. “How can wepare? I’m just a rich kid living off his parents, willing to sacrifice for afortable life. You’re different. In the Ferguson family, your word isw. There shouldn’t be so many obstacles between you and her.”
Hearing this, something in Bryant’s deep eyes flickered. Yes. The only obstacle between him and Jane had been his neglect of her feelings.
Bryant’s lips tightened. “The obstacles between her and me are even more
Steven, “What obstacles<b>?</b>”
Bryant’s voice was strained, a hint of red in his eyes. “She doesn’t love me anymore.”