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After all that commotion, Mark’s parents were quite shaken and left quickly without eating. Mark kept holding my hand until the cold sweat in my palm soaked his fingers too.
“That man…” he hesitated to begin.
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“He’s my ex–husband,” I stared at the diamond ring Julian had left on the floor. “We divorced a year ago.”
Mark was silent for a long time, finally just saying, “I’ll get you a glass of water.”
I knew what he was thinking. Any normal person seeing what just happened would think I
was nothing but trouble. But Mark simply put a glass of warm water in my hand, then
started clearing the overturned dinner.
“Aren’t you going to ask me anything?” I asked him, a little nervous.
He stopped, crouching in front of me. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”
I looked at his tanned face and rough hands, and couldn’t help but cry.
Three days later, I was stocking shelves at the shop when a news report came on TV:
**[Julian Hayes, CEO of Hayes Corp., attempted suicide by slitting his wrists this morning at a private recovery clinic and is currently in critical condition…]**
My hand trembled, and the shell wind chimes on the shelf fell, shattering into pieces on the floor. My phone rang. It was an unknown number.
“Hello? Is this Ms. Reynolds?” A gentle female voice asked. “I’m Dr. Lena Sharma, Julian
Hayes‘ attending physician.”
I clutched my phone. “He…”
Dr. Sharma sighed. “He’s temporarily out of danger, but he’s refusing treatment and keeps calling your name, Ms. Reynolds. Could you come see him?”
“No,” I hung up.
That night, Mark came to pick me up from the shop and noticed I wasn’t alright. “What’s wrong?” He touched my forehead. “You look so pale.”
I hesitated, then told him the truth. “Julian Hayes tried to kill himself.“”
Mark’s hand froze in mid–air.
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I added, “He’s in critical condition, and his doctor wants me to see him.”
Mark was silent for a long time, finally saying, “I’ll go with you.”
The recovery clinic was on a mountain outside the city. The environment was beautiful, like a luxurious prison. Julian Hayes was in a VIP room on the top floor, two bodyguards standing at the door. Seeing me, they visibly relaxed.
“Ms. Reynolds, Mr. Hayes has been waiting for you.”
Julian lay on the hospital bed, his left wrist wrapped in a thick bandage, his right hand
connected to an IV drip. He was so thin he was almost emaciated, his cheekbones sharply
protruding, his eyes deeply shadowed. Hearing movement, he slowly turned his head, and his eyes suddenly lit up.
“Claire…”
I stood at the door, unmoving. “Why did you do something so foolish?”
He managed a grim smile. “Without you, what’s the point of living?”
Mark cleared his throat behind me. Julian finally noticed him, his eyes instantly turning
cold.
“You brought him with you?”
“He’s my boyfriend,” I said calmly. “Julian Hayes, we’ve been over for a long time.”
Julian struggled to sit up. “I was wrong…” his voice trembled. “I know I was wrong, Claire, please give me another chance.”
I looked at him like this, and suddenly felt very tired.
“Julian Hayes, I don’t hate you anymore.” I took a deep breath. “But I’ll never forgive you
either.”
Julian froze as if struck by lightning.
“Live well,” I said. “Just for…” I paused, ultimately unable to say “our child.”
Julian suddenly fell off the bed, crawling on his knees to my feet. “Claire, don’t leave,
please…” He hugged my legs, weeping.
Mark tried to pull him away, but I shook my head.
“Julian Hayes,” I crouched down, looking directly into his eyes. “Let go.”
He stared at me intensely, then slowly, little by little, released his grip. As I walked out of the room, I heard his heart–wrenching sobs from inside.
A month later, Mark and I left the small island. Before leaving, I received a package. Inside were transfer documents for all of Julian Hayes‘ properties, and a note:
[Live well.]
Mark asked me, “Are you going to accept it?”
I put the documents into the shredder. “Of course not.”
1days ago
