9
P
James took the irises to my grave.
The photo on my tombstone was a copy of my ID picture, not particularly flattering.
But James still reached out, gently touching my photo.
“Are you doing well? Will you remember me in your next life?” James sat down, calmly talking to my grave.
I sat across from James, seriously answering him.
“I definitely won’t remember you in the next life.”
Two lines of tears ran down James’s face. I don’t know if it was my imagination, but his gaze lingered on me for a long time, so long that I felt
he could see me.
“I know, someone as terrible as me doesn’t deserve to be remembered by you…”
James lowered his eyes, his eyelashes wet with tears.
I was startled.
Could James really see me?
I waved my hand in front of James’s face.
“Can you see me?”
James looked up, focusing on me.
“I’m sorry. I really miss you. I was afraid of losing you again, so forgive me for deceiving you.”
I sat up abruptly.
So James really could see me.
“Since when?” I asked urgently, still not quite believing James could see me.
James bit his lip. “When Vanessa almost strangled me, I suddenly could see you. I was so afraid you’d hide from me if you knew I could see
you.”
So that’s how it was.
No wonder the depressed James suddenly wanted to rebuild the flower shop.
And every time James cooked, it was always my favorite dishes. He even set out a place for me at the table.
12:21 PM dd
<
At the time, I thought James was just trying to make himself feel better.
It turns out he could see me all along.
“When I was rebuilding the flower shop, you were always by my side. I thought we had gone back to how things used to be.
But I didn’t dare speak to you. I thought just being able to see you was enough.
Recently, sometimes I can’t see you anymore. Even though I know you’re there, I just can’t see you.
Are you leaving? Lily, I just want to talk to you one last time.
Lily Adams, I miss you so much…”
My heart felt strangely calm.
I had thought that when James and I reunited after so long, even with the barrier between life and death, I would angrily curse at him, or pour out years of longing.
But when truly facing James, a thousand words seemed meaningless.
“You have a better future ahead. Don’t ruin your life for me.”
Do I hate him?
Actually, I don’t hate him anymore. Everything was my own choice. James didn’t do anything wrong; he just didn’t love me enough.
“Lily, take me with you, please? You’re the only person I have left in this world. If you leave, how am I supposed to go on living?”
“You seemed to be doing just fine in the four years I was gone,” I said with a bitter smile, then continued, “I hope you can use my eyes to see
the whole world.”
“Lily, do you still love me?” James suddenly asked, catching me off guard as I met his serious gaze.
I shook my head.
“Not anymore. I’m tired.”
The light in James’s eyes dimmed. He gave a self–deprecating smile, as if this was both expected and unexpected.
“Can you walk with me one last time to all the places we used to go?” James pleaded, looking at me.
After a moment’s thought, I nodded.
We visited all our old haunts. Along the way, James smiled happily, protecting me and sharing everything like he used to.
I listened carefully, but my consciousness was becoming increasingly hazy.
From an outsider’s perspective, James looked like a madman talking to thin air.
Only I knew that this was when he was happiest.
Halfway through our walk, I suddenly felt dizzy. James stopped too.
“Let’s go back to the shop,” he said.
I nodded.
We sat facing each other at the same small table as before.
“Lily Adams, I love you.”
The smile gradually faded from James’s face. His gaze lost focus, as if he could no longer see me.
The smile gradually faded from James’s face. His gaze lost focus, as if he could no longer see me.
“Lily… I’m sorry, but I have to break my promise.
I can’t find any reason to be happy anymore.”
James committed suicide in his flower shop. Before he died, he donated his corneas to someone in need.
On the consent form for the surgery, he wrote one sentence:
[See the world for us.]
