Chapter 522 The Appearance of Youth
Ryan sat there in a daze.
Perhaps he had never considered this question. To go further, he never thought it was a problem!
"Or maybe what you like is me foolishly being a stand-in for your beloved Grace, comforting you when you're lonely. Then, when Grace comes back, you coldly push me away?"
Ryan covered his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking helplessly, as if his world had collapsed.
I used to fear his sadness and pain the most, but now, seeing his obvious pain and sorrow, I felt nothing.
It turns out that the line between love and not loving is so clear.
"Don't say you like me anymore, it's especially ironic. I don't need your affection anymore. Have you seen my new place? It's small and simple. From now on, I'll only earn a few thousand dollars a month. I don't know how many years I'll have to work to buy a house of my own. Even so, I feel incredibly at peace because I earned all of this myself. I don't feel guilty. So, I can live well on my own, even much better than when I was with you. And I don't need your company anymore."
I looked at Ryan calmly and told him seriously, "Ryan, the past is forever gone. Look forward."
I opened the door, "Leave, and don't come back."
I was surprised by my own behavior.
I thought I would cry uncontrollably, I thought I would go crazy, I thought I would regret it so much that I would feel wrong, and I even thought I would rush up and slap Ryan a few times in anger.
But I did nothing.
Throughout the conversation with him, I was as calm as if I were telling someone else's story, a story that had nothing to do with me.
Ryan opened his mouth, his brows furrowed tightly, and in those always indifferent eyes, there seemed to be pain rolling.
In the end, he didn't say a word, just looked at me with some despair, full of sorrow.
He stood up, stood by the door with his back to me, and said hoarsely, "I'm sorry, Amelia. I didn't realize how hard these five years with me have been for you. I know you won't forgive me. But I won't give up. No matter what, I will find the one who loved me the most. This time, I will love you well and make you the happiest person in the world."
Time has passed, and I no longer want to be the person he loves the most.
In the future, I will definitely become the most loved person of someone, but that person will definitely not be him.
I didn't respond to him.
He still left.
I watched the thin door close in front of me, separating us into two different worlds, feeling incredibly relieved.
All the past pain and resentment really left me at that moment.
I believe the words Ryan just said were sincere because I saw his pain and regret. Every word he said came from his heart.
The once arrogant him had also learned to bow his head.
Love is truly a magical thing.
But whether he regrets it or wants to make amends, it's all his own business, completely unrelated to me.
I stood on the balcony, looking at the world outside, telling myself: It's okay, Amelia. God took away your bad past and will definitely give you a good future. Keep moving forward, don't look back!
The day after I returned, I officially reported to the police station.
Three days later, I began to experience Ryan's so-called persistence.
Every night, he would wait for me at the police station entrance, and when he saw me come out, his eyes would light up like a dog seeing a bone.
I didn't want to talk to him, and I wouldn't even glance at him out of the corner of my eye as I passed by. I walked my own path firmly, treating him as a stranger.
Even though I treated him so coldly, it didn't deter him from coming to pick me up from work every day.
He would bring a bouquet of flowers every other day, mostly red roses, occasionally sunflowers, or baby's breath.
I would walk past him without looking, and he, like a young boy in love, would shove the flowers into my arms and then run away.
He washed all the clothes I left in the old house by hand and brought a few pieces to me every day, asking me to take them back to my place.
He would go to the supermarket to buy fresh meat and vegetables, follow video tutorials to cook, and pack the results of his many failed attempts into pretty lunch boxes, standing at the police station entrance, begging me to accept them.
My workplace is serious, with no need for decorations like flowers, so I gave each bouquet to the cleaning staff.
I didn't even look at the lunch boxes he brought, handing them over to the security guard at the gate.
I told Ryan not to do useless things, but he didn't listen. I couldn't control him, but I could handle the things he brought in my own way.
He once saw me give the flowers to the cleaning staff with his own eyes, and I saw the disappointment in his eyes, but I didn't care at all.
It was my birthday again.
I declined Jane's offer to celebrate my birthday. I ordered a small cake for myself, prepared everything in the morning, and even got a bottle of expensive red wine. I wanted to cook myself a delicious meal in the evening to celebrate my birthday and the start of my new life.
The temperature was extremely low that day, and it was even colder when I came out after working overtime.
I hadn't walked far from the police station when I saw Ryan waiting in the cold wind.
He was wearing a black coat, his ears red from the cold wind, and his usually meticulously groomed hair was blown messy.
He was holding a round box, stubbornly standing in the cold wind.
I stopped in front of him, looking at the box in his hand, feeling a mix of emotions.
It was cold, and there were very few people outside. The streetlights emitted an orange glow, stretching our shadows long.
Suddenly, my eyes felt hot, and something seemed to want to come out.
I thought of the photo that had occupied my phone screen for five years.
Ryan, in a white shirt, with sharp and cold features, his side profile so handsome that I wanted to give my whole life to him.
Today, he stood under the streetlight, his features still vaguely resembling his younger self.
But he was no longer the deity Amelia had spent five years looking up to.
Time had used five years to hurt me, but I would forever forget him.
I stood at the crossroads, turned back to wait for him, and pointed to the straight road ahead, saying, "Ryan, you and I now are like this intersection. You are destined to go left, and I am destined to go straight. These are two roads that will never intersect. I can walk safely forward on my own. So, goodbye, and never see you again."
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