Silent Departure

Ever since I saw that unsent draft on his Moments in Julian Sterling’s phone, I had become a completely different person. When he worked night shifts until dawn, there was no longer a light left on waiting for him at home. When he worked over ten consecutive hours in the operating room, I no longer texted to ask if he was tired. The unfamiliar perfume that occasionally lingered on his shirt—I no longer probed or questioned it either. Even when a flare-up of acute gastroenteritis struck in the middle of the night, and I forced myself to drive to the ER alone, the nurse asked gently, "Is there no family accompanying you?" I merely replied with a pale face, "I don't have any family." The nurse lowered her head to enter my information, then suddenly looked at me again. "Are you... Director Sterling's girlfriend? I saw you at the hospital's annual gala last time. Director Sterling happens to be on night shift tonight, right upstairs. Should I call him?" Julian Sterling was the youngest director in this hospital. I hadn't expected to be recognized. "No need," I said, closing my eyes. "Don't disturb his work." The nurse hesitated, wanting to say something, but in the end, she simply arranged for me to stay in the observation room. Half an hour later, the door to the observation room was pushed open. Julian walked in wearing his crisp white coat. He habitually pressed the back of his hand against my forehead, his brow furrowing slightly. "Why didn't you just call me if you were sick?" His palm was warm, bearing a familiar touch. In the past, even if it was just a mild headache, this warmth had been enough to let me fall asleep in peace. I turned my head away, avoiding his touch. "It's just acute gastroenteritis. An IV drip will do. It's no big deal." My tone was as nonchalant as if I were discussing the weather. Julian's hand froze in midair. This was not the me he knew. The me he knew would burrow into his arms during a thunderstorm, crying that she was scared; would sit on the sofa waiting with reddened eyes if he was even half an hour late; and would hold out her finger before him over the tiniest scratch, waiting for him to blow on it tenderly before applying a Band-Aid. But right now, beads of sweat lined my forehead from the pain and my lips were pale, yet I didn't even let out a whimper. Julian opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by voices approaching from down the corridor. "Director Sterling is so attentive to that Ms. Quinn in the VIP ward... It was just an appendectomy, yet not only did he perform the surgery himself, he rounds on her every day and stays for hours." "I heard Ms. Quinn is his mentor's daughter, and that they used to date?" "No wonder Director Sterling treats her so differently. It's already eleven at night, and he just went upstairs to see her again, right?" The voices drifted away with their footsteps, leaving an abrupt silence in their wake. Julian's expression shifted slightly. "Don't mind that gossip," he said, looking at me almost instinctively. "Chloe is my mentor's daughter. Before he passed away, he entrusted me to take care of her. She has no family or relatives in this city. As a doctor, it's my duty to look out for her a bit more." "Okay." I responded softly, offering nothing more. My reaction made Julian inexplicably irritated. "You don't believe me?" "I believe you." I finally turned to look at him, my eyes calm like a windless lake. "You've always been a responsible doctor. It's only right to take care of your patients." Julian froze, suddenly at a loss for words. In the past, he had always grown annoyed by my insecurities and explained impatiently, "Chloe and I are in the past. Now I only see her as my mentor's daughter. Can you stop being so sensitive?" Now, I had finally become what he wanted—no longer sensitive, no longer questioning. Yet Julian felt as if a wad of cotton was lodged in his chest, suffocating and unsettling. Something was wrong... This didn't feel right. His brow knitted tighter and tighter. Just as he was about to speak, a soft, muffled thud came from outside the door. Chloe Quinn stood in the doorway, steadying herself on an IV pole. Her face was as pale as paper, and the hem of her hospital gown was stained red with blood backflow in the IV line. "Julian..." She bit her lip, her voice weak. "I heard from the nurse that Ms. Brooks was hospitalized too..." "Why are you out of bed?" Julian rushed over to support her, his reproachful tone laced with deep concern. "Didn't I tell you that you must stay in bed and rest?" Chloe leaned weakly against his chest. "I was worried about Ms. Brooks. I wanted to come and check on her..." Julian sighed helplessly, scooped Chloe up in his arms, and turned to me. "I'll take her back to her room first. I'll be right back to stay with you." The sight of his back as he carried Chloe away was swallowed by the bright white lights at the end of the corridor. I slowly retracted my gaze, looked down at the needle on the back of my hand, and recalled the unsent draft on his Moments. The caption had read: [Staying by your side feels like going back to how we used to be.] At that moment, I realized as if waking from a dream that deep inside, Julian had never truly moved on from Chloe. Swallowing the sharp ache in my heart, I picked up my phone and opened the unread email. I typed a reply. [I have carefully reviewed the email and am willing to accept the three-year African ecological photography expedition. Wendy Brooks.]By the time the IV drip finished, the horizon was already tinged with the pale light of dawn. And Julian never returned. I rang the call bell myself, had the nurse remove the needle, declined the recommendation to remain under observation, and walked through the empty corridor alone. The smell of disinfectant filled my nostrils, and I was suddenly reminded of many years ago, also in a hospital, also on such a cold morning. Back then, I was accompanying my mother through chemotherapy. After my mother fell asleep, I broke down in tears in the stairwell. Afraid to make a sound, I could only bury my face in my knees, my shoulders trembling uncontrollably. Suddenly, a pair of clean, slender fingers offered me a pack of tissues. I looked up to see Julian Sterling in a white lab coat. His features were handsome and refined as he gently comforted me, "Don't cry. Your mother will get better." That first time I met him, I memorized that voice and those beautiful eyes. Later, when my mother passed away, I found a note under her pillow while sorting through her belongings. Written on it was a phone number, accompanied by a line of small handwriting: [Call this number if you ever need help. Julian Sterling.] I never called that number, but I tucked the note away carefully in a compartment of my wallet. The second time I saw him was at a gathering organized by friends. Julian sat in the darkest corner of the booth, the top two buttons of his white shirt undone, his gold-rimmed glasses resting on the table. He was drinking alone in brooding silence, the lively chatter around him seemingly detached from his world. A friend nudged me toward him. "That's Dr. Sterling. He's single, just like you. You two should have a chat." As I approached, Julian happened to look up. The moment our eyes met, his gaze visibly wavered. "Have we met before?" he asked. I took out that yellowed note from my wallet. Julian stared at it for a long time—so long that I thought he had forgotten our first encounter entirely—before I heard him say, "It was you... You actually kept this note?" "Yes," I answered softly. "Thank you for back then." That night, he drove me home. In the car, he suddenly spoke up. "Wendy, do you want to be with me?" My heart pounded wildly, practically leaping out of my chest. But I suppressed the impulse and asked, "Why... so suddenly?" "I just think you're a wonderful person." He paused. "And besides, you like me, don't you?" It was true that ever since that first encounter, I had harbored special feelings for him. And the note he had left me had brought a ray of warm light during the darkest, most painful time of my life. Only later did I learn that the reason he was brooding and drinking alone that night was because he had recently suffered a heartbreak. Chloe Quinn was the one who had initiated the breakup. Simply because she wanted to go abroad for further studies and felt a long-distance relationship would be too grueling, she broke up with him without hesitation. Chloe had left decisively, completely disregarding Julian's humble pleas for her to stay. It wasn't that I didn't understand. Him starting a new relationship back then wasn't because of how much he liked me; he simply wanted someone to help him move past that romance with Chloe that had ended in vain. Even so, I still agreed to be with him. I had always believed that genuine love would be returned in kind. As long as I was good enough to him and loved him deeply enough, he would eventually let go of Chloe completely, and I would be the only one in his heart and eyes. In fact, during the four years we spent together, Julian could be considered an attentive boyfriend. He remembered all my dietary preferences, tracked my monthly cycle, and never forgot my birthday or our anniversaries. His choices of gifts and restaurants were always meticulously arranged. My friends always envied me, saying that a man as considerate as Julian was nearly impossible to find even if you searched high and low. I had thought I really made my way into his heart. But a month ago, Chloe suddenly returned to the country. A phone call came, her voice tearful as she cried that her father was critically ill and that she was all alone at the hospital. From then on, everything changed. Not only did he return home later and later after work, but unfamiliar perfume scents constantly clung to him. Even in the dead of night, whenever Chloe felt overwhelmed with grief from dreaming about her deceased father, he would hastily grab a jacket and rush out the door. Because of Chloe, arguments and friction became frequent between us. I felt like an insecure, bitter woman. While loathing myself for it, I couldn't stop myself from asking him with tear-rimmed eyes time and time again, "After all these years, have you still not forgotten her?" And he grew increasingly impatient, blaming me for being oversensitive and suspicious, claiming that taking care of Chloe was merely fulfilling his late mentor's dying wish. For a time, I even thought that maybe I really was just being paranoid. Until I accidentally saw that unsent draft on his Moments in his phone. At that moment, the world shattered completely. My heart felt as if it were being torn apart by a blade. Yet, instead of making a scene, I felt entirely numb, my spirit finally resigned to let go.When I returned home, the sky was already bright. The house was dead silent, just as it had been when I left for the emergency room. Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket. "Is this Ms. Brooks?" A crisp, professional female voice came through. "We need a final confirmation regarding your three-year African ecological photography expedition. Have you truly considered this? The conditions in the African wilderness are extremely harsh, and you will be away from your family and friends for a long time." I gripped my phone tight. "I have considered it." "Very well. We will handle your visa application; we just need you to provide the necessary documents. The departure date is set for the 5th of next month. Does that work for you?" The 5th of next month. Just two weeks away. "That works," I replied. After ending the call, my gaze swept across every corner of the room. This home was something I had built, piece by piece. Four years ago, when I moved in, the place was empty, containing only the most basic furniture. I had poured so much heart into it—picking the color of the curtains, choosing the style of the sofa, filling the balcony with lush greenery, and hanging my own photography on the walls. I once thought this would be my forever home with Julian, that we would live here together for a long, long time. But now, it wouldn’t be long before I left for good. I pulled out a suitcase and was halfway through packing when the door opened. Julian stood in the doorway. Seeing my open suitcase, he froze. "What… what are you doing?" My movements faltered for a second, then I said with a natural tone, "It’s nothing. I just felt like there’s too much clutter in the house. It’s been a while since I did any cleaning, so I’m just tossing out the things I don't use or need." Julian looked at my calm face, then at the items I had packed, and that nagging sense of unease bubbled up in him again. Just tossing out what he didn't need? He was about to ask more when his phone rang. It was a specific ringtone. His expression shifted slightly. He picked up the phone and walked to the balcony to answer. "…Yeah, just got home. What's wrong?" I kept my head down, organizing my equipment bag, acting as if I hadn't heard a thing. From the balcony, Julian’s lowered voice drifted over in fragments. "The wound hurts? Is it infected… Don't worry, I'll come over and take a look right now… Alright, I know. Just lie still and don’t move around…" After hanging up, Julian walked back with a complicated look on his face. I had finished wiping the last camera lens and was carefully placing it into the custom-made protective case. I looked up and asked with a smile, "What’s wrong? Something up at the hospital?" "It’s Chloe…" Julian hesitated. "She said her wound suddenly hurts a lot. It might be an infection, so I need to go over and check." I looked at him, suddenly feeling like a massive failure. Four years. Over a thousand days and nights of companionship and devotion, and I still couldn't win a man’s wholehearted love. I nodded, my tone light. "You should go, then. A wound infection isn't a small matter; you can't delay it." My reaction was too calm—so calm that it made him feel flustered. "Wendy, I…" "Go on." I stood up and zipped the camera case shut. "Ms. Quinn is the one who needs you most right now. Don't keep her waiting." Julian suddenly felt that the person in front of him had become incredibly like a stranger. In the past, if I had heard him say he was going to see Chloe, I definitely would have had red eyes and asked, "Didn't you just get back from the hospital? Is there no other doctor? Does it really have to be you?" But now, I was simply smiling, even considerately reminding him not to keep her waiting. "I'll be back as soon as I can." Julian suppressed the strange feeling in his heart. "Let's have lunch together, okay? That new Japanese place you’ve been wanting to try." I smiled. "Sure. But if you get held up there, it doesn't matter. I can handle lunch on my own." Julian opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately, he stayed silent, turned around, and left the bedroom. I stood in place, listening to the sound of his car engine starting and fading into the distance. Then, I continued packing.At twelve noon, Julian hadn't returned. I received a text from him. 【Chloe's wound is indeed a bit infected and needs attention. It might be a while before I can get back. Go ahead and eat without me, don't wait up.】 I stared at the message, my finger hovering over the screen for a few seconds before I turned the screen off without replying a single word. The day Chloe was discharged was her birthday. Julian had mentioned it to me days in advance. "Chloe just lost her father recently, and she doesn't have any family or friends here. I want to throw her a birthday party, just to lift her spirits a bit." I was sorting through my gear list for the Africa trip and didn't even look up. "Sure, do you need me to help arrange it?" Julian paused; he had expected me to be unhappy. "You don't mind?" he probed. "Mind what?" I looked up, my eyes clear. "It's normal to celebrate a friend's birthday. Besides, Ms. Quinn really has been through a lot lately—losing her father and having surgery." My tone was so natural that one couldn't find fault with it, yet Julian felt inexplicably that something was wrong. He didn't have me help arrange the party. On the day of the birthday, everyone who showed up was an old classmate of both Chloe and Julian. As Julian's girlfriend, I was naturally on the guest list. After a few rounds of drinks, the atmosphere became lively. "I say," a slightly tipsy guy stood up, raising his glass, "Our Director Sterling and Ms. Quinn were the 'golden couple' back in medical school! You two have to do an interlocking-arm toast to reminisce about the good old days!" A roar of teasing broke out in the private room. Julian frowned. "Cut it out, Wendy is right here." "What about Wendy?" another girl interjected. "Wendy is a cool person! Right, Wendy?" Everyone looked at me. I didn't seem to care. "Sure, why not? It's a birthday—having fun is what matters." Amidst the teasing, Julian and Chloe picked up their glasses. Their arms were linked, and they were close enough to smell each other's breath. Chloe’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes shining as she looked at Julian, while Julian’s expression was complex, his gaze drifting toward me involuntarily. I held up my phone, taking a photo. My lens was pointed at them as if I were photographing a couple that had nothing to do with me. Julian’s heart sank. After the toast, applause and whistles filled the room. Julian set his glass down, his first reaction to look for me. I had already put my phone away and was chatting with the person next to me, my smile unchanging, as if the scene just now had nothing to do with me. "Wendy…" Julian walked up to me, lowering his voice. "Just now…" "The photo turned out great." I turned the screen toward him; it was the photo I had just taken, capturing the moment Julian and Chloe did the interlocking-arm toast. "Look, the lighting and composition are quite good. That white dress Ms. Quinn is wearing is very photogenic." Julian was left speechless. He wanted to explain, he wanted to say something, but my attitude made all his words get stuck in his throat. Since when did Wendy stop minding Chloe's existence? Could it be that Wendy… didn't care about him anymore? This realization sent a bone-chilling cold through Julian. Halfway through the gathering, I got up to go to the restroom. As I stepped out, I ran into Chloe in the corridor. "Ms. Brooks." Chloe stopped me, her face apologetic. "About earlier… I’m sorry. Everyone was just playing around; don't take it to heart." I turned around and looked at her calmly. "Why would I take it to heart?" Chloe was stumped for a moment before saying, "I mean… Julian and I really are just friends. Please don't misunderstand…" "I haven't." I smiled. "You are friends, old acquaintances, and each other's memories of youth. I know all that." With that, I turned to leave. "Wait!" Chloe called out sharply. I stopped, not looking back. "He has a hidden photo album on his phone. The password is my birthday. It contains all our memories." Chloe’s voice carried a hint of triumph. "Wendy, you’ve been with him for four years—has he ever created a private album just for you?" My body stiffened. But I didn't turn back, just replied in a flat tone, "So?" "So…" Chloe walked over and stood in front of me, staring at me. "So he has never forgotten me. Wendy, the last four years, you’ve just been accompanying him on my behalf."I laughed. "Ms. Quinn, we’re all adults. There’s no need to play these twisted little games. If you want him, go and fight for him. There's no need to go out of your way to show off to me how 'special' you are to him." With Chloe's face turning ugly, I walked straight past her. When I returned to the room, Julian was looking for me. "Where did you go? You were gone so long." "Ran into Ms. Quinn and had a chat." I sat down and took a sip of tea. Julian frowned. "What did you talk about?" "Nothing much." I smiled faintly. "She just told me you have a hidden photo album on your phone and the password is her birthday." A look of awkwardness flashed in Julian's eyes. "Wendy, let me explain…" "No need to explain." I interrupted him. "That's your privacy. I respect that." Julian stared at me, trying to find even the slightest trace of displeasure on my face. But he only saw a vast calm, like a pool of water that had suddenly lost all ripples—so calm it made one panic. "Wendy, you’re really acting very strange." Julian Sterling's throat tightened. He picked up his coat. "Let's go. We're going home to talk about this properly!" "But the birthday party isn't over yet..." "Let's go!" Giving me no room to argue, he pulled me up, said a quick goodbye to the others, and led me out of the private room. The moment we got into the car, someone knocked on the window. Julian rolled it down. Chloe Quinn was standing outside, her long hair lifting gently in the night breeze. Biting her lip, she said, "Everyone's already leaving, and I can't catch a cab. Could you give me a ride if it's on your way?" Before Julian could speak, I pushed my door open. "Of course. Ms. Quinn, why don't you take the front? The view's better." Chloe froze, whatever excuse she had prepared catching in her throat. She looked at me, a flicker of confusion in her eyes, but slid into the passenger seat anyway. As the car rolled through the night, Chloe kept talking, reminiscing about their college days, bringing up every little memory she shared with Julian. Julian offered only the occasional brief response, staying silent most of the time. Chloe couldn't help glancing at me in the rearview mirror, only to find me staring intently at the night scenery outside the window, my profile completely calm and unbothered. Her expression grew melancholy as she continued, "Sometimes I really regret it... If only I hadn't gone abroad back then..." "It's in the past," Julian cut in. A brief silence settled over the car. Right at that moment, a vehicle suddenly shot out from a side road. Julian wrenched the steering wheel and slammed on the brakes. The car spun out of control, crashing into the roadside guardrail. In the violent jolt, Julian's instinct was to throw his arm out to shield Chloe in the passenger seat. Sitting in the back, I was thrown forward with crushing force, my forehead slamming hard against the back of the front seat. Agonizing pain flared, and warm liquid began trickling down the side of my face. "Wendy!" Julian turned, his face instantly draining of color when he saw the blood covering my face. "How bad is it? Are you okay?" I wiped at the blood blurring my vision with the back of my hand. "I'm fine... Drop Ms. Quinn off first." "You're bleeding like that, and you're—" "I'm really fine. I can just take a cab to the hospital myself. Ms. Quinn was terrified. You should hurry and take her home to rest." With that, I pushed the door open, stepped out, and actually walked over to the curb to hail a cab, leaving without looking back. Julian stared blankly as the cab pulled away, only snapping back to reality when he heard Chloe's soft whimpering. After dropping Chloe off at home, Julian rushed straight to the hospital. The emergency room nurse told him that my wound had already been treated and that I had left. He drove home. Opening the front door, he found only a small nightlight glowing in the living room. I was leaning back on the sofa, gauze taped across my forehead, my face pale. He strode over quickly and knelt before me. "Why did you leave on your own? Do you have any idea how worried I was?" I opened my eyes and said mildly, "Weren't you supposed to look after Ms. Quinn? Her father just passed away, and she's emotionally vulnerable. She needs you more." "Wendy!" Julian finally snapped, grabbing my hands. "What on earth has been wrong with you lately? Is it because Chloe came back? Are you upset? I told you, she and I—" "I know." I pulled my hands back gently. "The two of you are in the past. You're only looking after her because her father just passed away and she has no family left in this city. I understand all of it." "Then why are you..." "Julian," I looked at him and suddenly smiled. "Do you remember how I used to get mad whenever you spent time with Chloe, and you'd always tell me I was too sensitive, too unreasonable?" Julian froze. "Now I'm reasonable, I'm not sensitive, and I'm not mad anymore." My smile was faint. "Isn't this what you always wanted?"Julian looked into my eyes, suddenly unable to utter a single word. Right—wasn't this exactly what he had always wanted? He wanted me to be sensible, to be understanding, to stop making a scene out of insecure paranoia. Now I was doing all of it, so why was he hurting so much inside? I stood up. "I'm not feeling well. I'm going to bed." A sudden, intense surge of unease and panic flared in Julian's chest. Just as I turned around, he grabbed my wrist tightly. "Wendy, you're not going to leave me, are you?" My long eyelashes fluttered slightly. I hadn't expected him to be perceptive enough to pick up on that. I thought that since he had guessed it, I might as well come clean so we could part ways peacefully. Yet Julian's gaze remained fiercely locked on mine. "We've been together for four years. We're both used to having each other around. You wouldn't leave me, right?" So his panic about me leaving was merely because he had grown accustomed to my presence. It suddenly dawned on me that in all the years we had been together, competent boyfriend though he was, he had never once said the word "love" to me. Looking back now, perhaps he never said "love" because the person he truly loved was someone else entirely. As for me, I was just a habit. The corner of my mouth lifted in a faint smile. "You're right." I had indeed grown used to his presence too. It was just a habit I could break. Perhaps my recent abnormality made Julian exceptionally uneasy, because he took a few days off work just to stay home with me. He cooked the dishes I liked, took me out to movies, went shopping with me—everything seemed just as it used to be. Yet everything was different. A couple of days later, a call came from Chloe. When the custom ringtone echoed through the living room, I was watering plants on the balcony. I heard Julian pick up, his tone unknowingly tender. "Chloe?" My hands paused for a second as water trickled out from the spout. Julian hung up and walked over. "Chloe said a friend of hers is hosting an art exhibition here. The opening is tomorrow. She managed to get two extra tickets and wanted to invite us along." Before he even finished speaking, I knew he had already agreed. "Sure," I said, setting the watering can down. "It's been a while since I've been to an art gallery anyway." The next day, when Julian and I arrived at the venue, an elaborately dressed Chloe was already waiting by the entrance. "Julian! You guys made it!" She hurried over, naturally reaching out to slip her arm through Julian's. Julian's frame stiffened slightly, his eyes darting toward me. I acted as if I hadn't seen a thing, taking the lead and walking inside. Behind me came Chloe's soft, gentle voice. "This exhibition is organized by a friend of mine who just returned from France. A lot of the pieces are really fascinating..." The gallery was softly lit, with few visitors around. "Julian, look at this one." Chloe pointed to an oil painting of a sunset over the sea. "Doesn't it look like that bay we went to sketch at during college?" Julian followed her finger, memories stirring, his expression growing somewhat dazed. "Yeah, it does look a bit like it." Chloe's face filled with nostalgia. "Thinking back, those times were truly wonderful. We did so many things together, visited so many interesting places..." I had no desire to listen to their walk down memory lane, and my attention was soon captured by a few pieces that blended ecological photography with oil painting, causing me to slow my pace. "Watch out—!" The moment the terrified scream tore through the air, the sharp, screeching snap of a steel cable rang out above us. I looked up, only to see a massive suspended installation lose its balance, tilting and crashing down toward where we stood. Everything happened far too fast. Without a moment's hesitation, Julian lunged toward Chloe, wrapping her tightly in his arms as the two of them rolled toward a safe area nearby. I only had time to raise my arms to shield my face. Shattered crystal rained down like a storm, the razor-sharp shards slicing into my left shoulder with a jolt of searing pain. I stumbled backward, my foot catching on something, and tumbled straight back— The back of my head slammed violently against the metal edge of a display stand. Agony crashed over me, accompanied by an instant plunge into darkness, as warm liquid gushed from both my shoulder and the back of my head. I lay on the icy floor, my ears buzzing, my vision beginning to blur. With the last of my strength, I tilted my head. Through the blood-blurred haze, Julian was helping Chloe up. Blood was seeping through his own back, yet the first thing he did was look down to check on Chloe, his voice trembling with a panic I had never heard before. "How are you? Are you hurt? Did you get hit anywhere?" Chloe leaned against his chest, her face pale, shaking her head faintly. So, he really did love Chloe. He loved her so much that in an emergency, his instinct would always be to save her first. He loved her so much that he didn't care about his own injuries, and loved her so much that he forgot about the girlfriend who had been by his side for four years, completely blind to how severely hurt I was. The corner of my mouth tugged into a faint, bitter smile before my consciousness slipped away, swallowed whole by the dark.When I regained consciousness, the smell of antiseptic hit my nose first. A dull, heavy ache pulsed from the back of my head and my left shoulder. I opened my eyes, the blurred shapes around me gradually sharpening into focus. It took me a moment to realize I was lying in a hospital room. The door pushed open, and Julian walked in. He had changed into clean clothes, heavy dark circles under his eyes. As he stepped up to the bed, he instinctively checked the monitor before turning to me. "You're awake?" he spoke, his voice raspy, deliberately keeping his tone soft. "How are you feeling? Are you dizzy? Do you feel nauseous?" I stared quietly at the ceiling, not saying a word. He reached out as if to touch my forehead, but his hand halted mid-air before he merely smoothed back the stray hairs on my brow, his touch exceedingly gentle. "You have a mild concussion, and your shoulder needed a few stitches," he said softly, sitting down by the bedside. "You'll need to stay in the hospital for a few days." I closed my eyes, then opened them again. "Where's Chloe Quinn?" I asked, my voice eerily calm. Julian's expression froze slightly. "She's... fine. Just a little shaken up," he answered quickly, almost without thinking. "Wendy, under those circumstances, I..." "I understand," I cut him off, my voice flat and devoid of emotion. "It was an emergency, and you were closer to her. In moments like that, people instinctively save whoever is nearest. I get it." Every explanation Julian had prepared died right in his throat. He looked at my calm face and my unnervingly quiet eyes, an inexplicable irritation welling up inside him. He suddenly wished I would question him, throw a tantrum, or even hit and curse him. Anything was better than this—calm, rational, and even understanding enough to make excuses for him. His Adam's apple bobbed. "Are you mad at me?" "No." I turned my head to look out the window. "You didn't do anything wrong. Why would I be mad?" Those words left Julian Sterling feeling suffocated with dread. "Wendy, can you stop making a scene?" I looked at him, completely baffled. "How am I making a scene?" "You weren't like this before." The current me had no emotions, no ripples of feeling—like an unfeeling robot devoid of joy or sorrow. I was practically a different person from who I used to be. A deep sense of unease washed over Julian. "Wendy, don't be like this. You're making me feel like you're a stranger." "Julian, you're really strange." I couldn't help letting out a laugh. "You were the one who got sick of me being sensitive and suspicious. Now that I don't care about anything, why are you still unhappy?" Julian froze slightly, struck completely speechless. My gaze remained impassive. "What exactly do you want me to be like?" He parted his lips, only to realize he couldn't produce a single sound. Right then, a nurse knocked on the door. "Director Sterling, the patient in bed 27 next door would like you to take a look at them." Julian looked at me, but I had already closed my eyes. Subdued, he said in a low voice, "Get some rest first. I'll come back to stay with you later." I didn't answer him, keeping my eyes closed, leaning pale-faced against the pillow. The door was quietly pulled shut. I opened my eyes, stared at the ceiling, and gave a faint tug at the corner of my lips. So even he could feel that this version of me was a stranger. But what could be done? I didn't love him anymore, and I could never change back into the person he once knew. Over the next few days of my hospital stay, Julian's visits to my room could be counted on one hand. From the hushed gossip among the nurses, I gathered that the hours he spent vanishing without a trace weren't entirely in the operating room or his office. Most of the time, he wasn't even in the hospital. Without even guessing, I knew whose side he was by when he wasn't here. So on the day I decided to check out early, I didn't notify him. The date for my departure to Africa was drawing near. It was a three-year-long expedition, and I still needed to go home to make preparations. That evening, I packed the last of my necessities into my suitcase. A call came in. "Ms. Brooks, your visa has been approved, and your flight has been booked. I will send you the flight details shortly, so please keep an eye out for them. If you have any questions, feel free to contact me at any time." "Okay." Just as I hung up, Julian's voice suddenly came from behind me. "What visa? What flight?"I turned toward the sound and saw Julian walking into the bedroom with a dark expression. "I thought I just heard someone talking to you about a visa and a flight? What's going on?" Frowning deeply, he asked, "Where are you going?" Not wanting any complications with the photography expedition, I replied impassively, "You misheard. It wasn't about me." "Not you?" I brushed it off casually, "A friend of mine was just asking me about the visa application process." Julian hadn't caught the details of the call. Seeing my composed demeanor, he remained dubious for a few seconds before letting the matter drop. He stepped over to me, his handsome face still clouded. "Why didn't you tell me you were being discharged early?" "Does it matter whether I tell you or not?" "Doesn't it?" I found his question rather laughable. Bypassing him, I walked out of the bedroom. "You're too busy. I didn't want to waste your time and energy on such a minor thing." Julian knitted his brows, followed me into the living room, sat down on the sofa beside me, and took my hand. All I felt was something ice-cold sliding onto my ring finger. I looked down and froze in disbelief. "Wendy, I've thought a lot lately. I know I neglected you and made you feel insecure." Julian held my hand firmly. "In that case, let's just get married. We can go pick out a wedding dress tomorrow." Marriage. As those two words hit my ears, a sharp pain suddenly pierced my dormant heart. I moved my gaze away from the diamond ring on my ring finger and slowly met his eyes. "Then what about Chloe Quinn? Are you just going to leave her alone?" Julian's eyes froze, completely taken aback. There was no need to probe any further into those few seconds of stunned silence. Because that was the answer. Mocking him in my heart, I said without showing a trace of emotion, "I'm tired. I want to sleep early tonight, so I'm heading to bed." I thought the matter would end there, but the next day, Julian still insisted on taking me to pick out a wedding dress. Halfway through the drive, that specially designated ringtone abruptly sounded. Julian drove, his brows slightly furrowing. Seeing that he made no move to pick up the phone, I asked from the passenger seat, "Aren't you going to answer it?" He pressed his lips together. "Today, I'm only here for you. Nobody else matters." Yet the ringtone went off again and again. Noticing how his brow furrowed deeper and deeper, I lowered my lashes slightly. "Answer it. Maybe she has something urgent." In the end, Julian couldn't hold back. He picked up the phone and answered, "What is it?" "Julian, there's a fire here... What do I do? I'm so scared," Chloe Quinn cried over the line. "Am I going to die here? Will I... will I never see you again?" The car slammed to a sudden halt. At that moment, I saw clearly as something shattered in his eyes. It was a panic I had never seen on him before. Our car sped at top speed, overtaking vehicle after vehicle until we arrived at the burning clubhouse. Thick smoke billowed outside the clubhouse while emergency lights flashed and firefighters set up a perimeter cordon. Before the car had even come to a full stop, Julian rushed out and charged toward the building, only to be held back firmly. "Sir, you can't go in! The fire isn't under control yet!" "Someone is still inside! She hasn't made it out!" His eyes bloodshot and possessed by frightening strength, he shoved past the people holding him back and threw himself recklessly into the smoke-choked entrance of the clubhouse. Time suddenly slowed to a crawl. Until gasps erupted from the crowd, and Julian emerged from the raging smoke and flames carrying a figure wrapped in a damp blanket. Chloe Quinn was trembling violently in his arms, her face streaked with tears, but she seemed largely unharmed. Julian, on the other hand, was badly injured. His face was smeared with ash, and large patches of his arms and back were severely burned. It wasn't hard to see that he had truly risked his life to protect Chloe. After handing Chloe over to the paramedics who rushed up, Julian swayed and collapsed directly to the ground from exhaustion and burns. Even though the paramedics caught him in time, he slipped into deep unconsciousness. Standing by the car door, I looked down at the sparkling diamond ring on my hand, suddenly finding it utterly cheap and ridiculous. When he loved Chloe Quinn so much that he didn't even care about his own life, why bother marrying me? I reached up, twisted the ring, and pulled it off. I didn't follow the paramedics to accompany Julian to the hospital. Instead, I returned to the apartment we shared and grabbed my suitcase. The airport. International Departures Terminal. I checked in for my flight and went through security. In the boarding lounge, I took out the photo album that had been with me for years. On the very first page was a photo of Julian and me. We had just gotten together back then, and I had been smiling so brightly. I gently tore the photo out and tossed it into the trash can. The boarding announcement rang over the intercom. I closed the photo album, stood up, and walked toward the gate. As the plane soared into the clouds, I took one last look at this familiar city. Goodbye, Julian Sterling. Goodbye to the man I loved for four years. In the future, a Wendy Brooks without Julian Sterling will shine brighter than ever. ---------- Cutoff Point ----------