Chapter 12
Inside the underground parking garage.
Sophia seemed like a different person, hysterical as if she’d lost her mind.
“How could you do this, Harold?”
“Don’t you love me most? How could you go back? You’re divorced! You promised to stay with me in England!”
Harold rubbed his temples, finding her utterly unreasonable.
“Sophia, I’ve told you and everyone else countless times–we’re history. My kindness toward you, as Emily said, was just lingering feelings from our first love. I was wrong.”
Sophia’s voice sharpened, “You were wrong? How can you say that now?”
Tears streaked her face, making her look utterly pitiful.
“Do you remember what you said when Emily first arrived in the UK?”
“I said you two weren’t a match at all, and you said matching didn’t matter as long as it felt right.”
“Do you remember signing that body donation pact together in college, vowing to stay together in life and death?”
“Have you forgotten all that?”
Harold looked quietly at Sophia, not wiping her tears like before.
“I remember, but it’s all in the past.”
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“Sophia, we must look forward. We’re both back home now, your ex- husband can’t hurt you anymore, and I need to get my life back on track.”
His voice suddenly softened, a gentle expression spreading across his face as if recalling some cherished treasure.
“Half a year since parting with Emily, I’ve figured out many things.”
“I’ve realized that what I’ve always wanted is a light always on for me at home, and someone always sitting in the familiar spot waiting for me. And once, Emily waited for me like that, silently enduring grievance, loneliness, and desolation for five years.”
“Do you know how heartbroken I was when I realized this? Up to now, I’ve been fair to everyone–parents, patients, friends, even you, my ex–I’ve done everything to the best of my ability, perfectly.”
“Only Emily, the wife who should have been most cherished and loved by me, I neglected the most.”
Harold looked at Sophia, his expression serious.
“Sophia, I don’t care whether Emily still loves me or not, and I don’t care if she’s willing to accept me. There’s no future for you and me.”
“The regrets from my youth, carried all this way–I no longer regret them.”
He spoke deliberately.
“You and I, let’s end it here.”
Coincidentally, on Emily’s way home, her car broke down at the worst possible moment.
Just as she was about to call the insurance company for a tow truck, a black SUV pulled up in front of her vehicle. A strikingly handsome man
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stepped out.
His voice sounded cool and detached.
“Need help?”
Emily subconsciously frowned, warily stepping back.
“I’ve called my insurance.”
The man nodded, rolled up his sleeves, and popped open Emily’s car hood. He seemed to inspect it briefly before telling her calmly.
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“Your electric car’s battery drained. If you don’t mind, I can give you a jumpstart. You’ll make it home.”
Hearing this, Emily cautiously approached, maintaining a socially appropriate distance.
“How?”
The man pulled his G–Wagon bumper–to–bumper with her car. Then came a flurry of connections beyond her comprehension.
He dusted off his hands and shut her hood.
“All set. Give it a try now.”
With that, he backed his car away.
Emily got in the car, stepped on the gas, turned the steering wheel, and drove off a distance. As she passed the man’s car, she rolled down the window and pulled out her phone.
“Thank you. How about I transfer you some money as a thank–you fee?”
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Money was the most tangible and efficient way to show gratitude. But the man declined, his expression still calm.
“I don’t need money. If fate brings us together again, treat me to a meal next time. If not, just consider it a good deed.”
With that, he floored the accelerator and his car shot into the distance, vanishing in the blink of an eye.
Emily put away her phone, figuring she’d met a handsome, kind–hearted Good Samaritan today, and didn’t take his words seriously.
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