Chapter 17

Later, I found out how Brian Locke had endured those days after reading all the messages I’d sent him alone over the years. I heard he’d stayed up all night reading them—from midnight until dusk the next day. His eyes had grown sore, and his heart had turned to ashes. He’d finally understood the despair I’d felt all those years, every time he’d left my messages “read but unanswered”—it was just like the helplessness he’d felt when he’d been beaten up in that small town, thinking he was going to die.

But he’d woken up too late. When he’d finally typed “I’m sorry” and sent it to me, all he’d gotten was a red notification that the message had been rejected. He’d been blocked. I couldn’t even remember exactly when I’d done it—probably just a random moment when I’d decided to let go of him completely, and had done it without a second thought.

The next day, he’d tried to make amends. He’d dressed up neatly and gone to a luxury store to buy me a gift. But when the salesclerk had asked, “What does your wife like?” he’d had no answer. In the end, he’d just picked out a few things at random, based on the vague memory of the colors I usually wore. He’d waited outside my house for a long time, and finally stopped me when I went out.

“Many years ago, in a small town—you saved a teenager. That was me,” he said, his voice trembling slightly.

I’d been stunned, a look of confusion on my face. That memory was so distant, I’d almost forgotten it entirely. It wasn’t until he’d mentioned more details—like how he’d been wearing a faded blue jacket that day, how he’d been stabbed and left lying at the alley entrance, and how I’d yelled “The police are coming!” to scare away the attackers—that I’d finally had a faint recollection.

He’d spilled everything—how Lily Bennett had taken credit for saving him, how she’d used lies to trick him into feeling guilty, and why he’d treated Lily so “special” all those years. He’d apologized repeatedly, saying he wanted to make things right. Finally, he’d asked tentatively, “In five years of marriage, I don’t think I ever took you out to dinner alone. Do you have time at noon? I’ve made a reservation.”

I’d raised my hand to shield my eyes from the sun and shook my head gently, “We’re not husband and wife anymore. You don’t need to take me to dinner, and you don’t need to make amends. Just leave it at that. Brian Locke, this is how it is between us now.”

I hadn’t taken the gift he’d held out, and I hadn’t agreed to his invitation. I’d turned and walked toward the car parked not far away. Through the car window, I’d seen him standing there, dizzy from the scorching sun, his eyes filled with disappointment. He’d probably seen Justin Cole in the passenger seat—that’s why he’d looked so dejected.

When we got home, I’d taken Justin Cole to visit my father. As soon as my dad had seen Justin, his eyes had narrowed—I knew he was about to start his “assessment.” Sure enough, the two of them had first played a intense game of Go, then talked animatedly about everything from the economy to history. I’d gotten so bored listening that I’d snuck into the kitchen to watch the housekeeper cut fruit.

After a while, my father had also come into the kitchen and said to me mysteriously, “Honey, I’ve checked him out. He looks like a playboy, but he’s actually loyal. I even checked your zodiac signs—you’re a perfect match!”

I’d laughed helplessly, “Dad, we’re not even boyfriend and girlfriend yet. If you hadn’t heard about us going out to eat and insisted on meeting him, we wouldn’t even be at the ‘meeting the parents’ stage.”

My father had pouted but still insisted, “Anyway, he’s reliable and has a good personality. I really like him. You can do whatever you want—I don’t understand young people’s games. But one thing: don’t toy with other people’s feelings. That’s not right.”

“I know, Dad. Do I look like the kind of person who would hurt others?” I’d replied with a smile.

After dinner, my father had received a phone call. He’d sounded overjoyed, and after hanging up, he’d said to me, “Come with me tonight. I’m going to hand over the business to you eventually, especially this project—you’ll be in charge of implementing it. Come along and learn the ropes.” I’d nodded, curious about who had helped my father get this long-stalled project off the ground.

That night, I’d gone with my father to the agreed hotel private room. The moment I’d pushed open the door, I’d frozen—it was Brian Locke sitting inside. So he’d been the key person who’d helped my father with the project.

When he’d seen me, his eyes had lit up for a moment, then dimmed again—probably remembering how I’d rejected him that morning. My father had warmly invited him to sit down and kept praising him to me, calling him “ambitious at a young age” and “so helpful.” I’d maintained a polite smile the entire time, but my heart had been calm, showing no emotion.

He’d probably thought this was a way to make amends, but he didn’t understand—I’d never wanted these things. The missing companionship, the betrayed sincerity, the hurtful past—none of these could be fixed with a project, a meal, or a few gifts.

During dinner, my father had kept trying to play matchmaker between us, and Brian had glanced at me from time to time, his eyes filled with a hint of hope. I’d just eaten quietly, occasionally nodding in response to my father’s remarks, completely ignoring Brian’s gaze.

After dinner, my father had left first, leaving only Brian and me in the private room. He’d hesitated for a long time before speaking, “Sophia Reed, I know I didn’t do right by you before, but I…”

“Brian Locke,” I’d cut him off, my tone calm, “Thank you for helping my father. I’ll remember this favor and repay you someday. But other than that, there’s nothing more to say between us.”

With that, I’d stood up to leave. When I’d reached the door, he’d suddenly called out to me, “Sophia Reed, are you really not going to give me any chance at all?”

I’d stopped, but didn’t look back, “Brian Locke, some things—once you miss them, they’re gone forever. We’re already over.”

As I walked out of the hotel, the evening breeze brushed against my face, carrying a hint of coolness that made me feel extremely clear-headed. I knew Brian might continue to feel guilty, might try to make amends in all sorts of ways—but none of that mattered to me anymore. I’d already stepped out of that dark period and found my own peace and freedom. I would never look back.

As for Brian Locke—the debts he owed me would probably take him a lifetime of guilt to repay. And all I needed to do was carry my father’s blessings and my hopes for the future, and keep moving forward.