Return to 18 Chapter 3

"Lily, Lily..."

Even with the truth before him, the amnesiac Marcus's subconscious still believed I'd abandoned him.

He didn't believe he could have cheated when he loved me so much.

I smiled, picked up a bucket of cold water and poured it on him. He didn't wake up but instead turned over, hugging the bottle and murmuring: "Lily, don't be afraid. I'm here."

My heart instantly turned sour.

This was the Marcus of the past, the one who shouted against the wind: "Lily, I'll love you forever."

Bucket after bucket of cold water poured over him.

Marcus finally woke up, seeing me and breaking into a silly smile: "Lily, I've missed you so much."

Facing the twenty-eight-year-old Marcus, I could tell him to die without hesitation.

But I couldn't be so cruel to the eighteen-year-old Marcus.

Yet thinking about how from eighteen to twenty-eight, in just ten years, he'd eventually become that disgusting Marcus—

My heart suddenly turned cold.

Looking down at him: "Now that you're awake, get out. Stop putting on this disgusting act."

Marcus's expression visibly darkened, his brow showing undisguised loss and sadness.

After a long while, he shakily stood up, giving me a brilliant smile: "Lily, I'll make your favorite century egg and pork congee tomorrow morning, okay?"

I didn't respond.

Marcus staggered to the door, pushed it open and left.

Early in the morning, the doorbell was frantically rung.

My neighbor, an older woman, looked at me reproachfully: "Fighting is one thing, but you almost caused a death!"

From the corner of my eye, I glimpsed Marcus lying unconscious in the hallway, soaking wet.

But he was clutching a thermos tightly in his arms.

It was the one I'd randomly bought the first time I visited his company.

I dialed 911, then closed the door.

Outside, the woman's complaints and dissatisfaction soon arose.

Inside, I turned the music up to maximum.

After all this trouble, Marcus's body finally couldn't take it. His fever persisted.

The hospital called several times, but I declined them all.

On the third day, Marcus stood at my door in a hospital gown, his lips pale, holding a thermos and grinning at me cheerfully: "Lily, you have a weak stomach. You need to eat breakfast on time."

I ignored him, walking around him.

Marcus just followed behind me, exactly like when he'd apologize in his youth.

Back then I was spoiled and arrogant. Marcus never seemed to get angry, just followed behind me waiting for me to soften.

Walking and walking, I unconsciously arrived at the small park downstairs. A little girl in a hospital gown pulled at my sleeve, saying sweetly: "Pretty sister, did the brother behind you make you angry?"

Seeming to relate because of Marcus's hospital gown, she said empathetically: "Mommy says, people should cherish those in front of them. When they're dead, there's nothing left."

The little girl ran off.

I looked up at Marcus standing beside me, curving my lips in a smile: "Marcus, do you prefer boys or girls?"

Marcus froze, seemingly not expecting me to talk to him so calmly.

He squatted before me, his eyes full of smiles: "As long as you give birth to them, Lily, I'll love them."

I smiled, saying to myself: "I like girls. I want a soft, pink little dumpling and give her all the best things in the world."

"Me too. I'll work hard to be a good dad." He held my hand, full of hope.

The year after graduation, we'd had this same conversation.