Chapter 76: Goodbye

Upon hearing Lawrence's words, Steven's lonely figure standing alone at the park gate instantly flashed through Monica's mind.
She couldn't keep him waiting, that was her initial reaction.
But what about Lawrence? He was injured and clearly not in a good emotional state right now. After all the years of friendship, she couldn't just abandon him here.
As Lawrence sat on the side and saw her hesitation, he felt a little disappointed but also didn't want to force her. He withdrew his hand, speaking gently, "It's getting late..."
"Let's go back now," Lawrence said.
"It's alright," Monica reassured him after sending the text, "Let's sit for a while longer, chat and wait for someone to pick us up. Since your hand isn't comfortable, I'll send you home later."
Upon hearing this, Lawrence relaxed his body and leaned back slowly, his back hitting the edge of the plastic chair, causing some discomfort, but it was nothing compared to the anguish he felt inside.
He stared at the ceiling, lost in thought as time passed slowly, before he suddenly spoke again, "I'm sorry."
Another apology.
"My grandfather wanted to give you the bracelet today, I didn't know beforehand," he sounded tired, "If I had known, I would have stopped him."
"My grandfather loves me, my mother loves me too, but sometimes I feel caught in the middle, not knowing what to do."
He wanted to say something, to explain, but the more he talked, the more he felt powerless. How could he expect others to accept the environment that even he was tired of?
Perhaps insisting on going abroad to pursue his dreams was also a way for him to escape.
Monica handed him a cup of hot water, steam rising from it. Lawrence said, "Thank you," took it, and gently blew on it, but his gaze remained fixed on her face.
"My studio is completely prepared now, and I'll be able to start operating officially soon," he spoke as if talking to himself, but also to her, "I already have some fame in the industry and have many big orders coming in. As long as I maintain the quality of my work and reputation, I won't earn less in the future."
Monica nodded and patted his shoulder, encouraging him, "Keep it up!"
Lawrence naturally held onto her hand on his shoulder, looking at her with some emotion, "Monica, I want..."
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a message on Monica's phone. She glanced at it and said to Lawrence, "Someone is here, I'll go meet them."
With that, she stood up and quickly disappeared around the corner.
Not long after, Monica collided with Steven who was rushing over. His brow furrowed and his lips tightened, showing obvious displeasure.
"Are you sick? Or injured?" He quickly approached her, grabbing her shoulder and speaking with urgency in his slightly deepened voice.
"Why did you suddenly come to the hospital? What about Eric? Didn't he take care of you?"
"It's not me..." Monica's voice became quieter as she briefly explained to him.
Once he understood the reason, the furrow between Steven's brows slowly relaxed, replaced by a nonchalant tone, "It's just a cut on your hand, men aren't so fragile."
"You can't say that, you've had a fever before too, haven't you?"
He stared at her intently, raising his eyebrow displeasingly, "Can I be just like him?"
Monica hmphed, not saying anything, and pulled him back in the direction they came from.
Lawrence sat in the chair and soon saw Monica approaching with another man.
At first, he thought it was Eric, but upon seeing the face clearly, he realized it was a familiar yet unfamiliar man. It seemed like they had met somewhere before.
"This is Steven, my...friend. You're injured, he..."
"Since my hand is not very convenient, and he happens to be nearby, let him come and pick us up, and he can also drop you off on the way," Monica explained briefly. "This is Lawrence."
Lawrence extended his left hand to shake hands, as his right hand was injured. "Hello, Mr. Wright," he said.
Steven politely responded, "Hello, Mr. Liang."
"Mr. Wright looks familiar," Lawrence looked at his face, furrowing his brow in thought.
Suddenly, something clicked in his mind. "Have we met in Lake George? Is this the second time we've met?"
"In a strict sense, it could be considered the third time," Steven nonchalantly replied. "We had a phone conversation before with Mr. Liang, but you may not have known it was me."
Lawrence's expression turned surprised as he realized something, involuntarily turning to glance at Monica.
He pursed his lips, tightening his left hand, and his fingertips sank into his palm.
Monica, confused, asked, "Have you actually met before?"
Neither of the two men answered. Standing in the corridor, there was no response, and the stagnant atmosphere was quite strange.
In the midst of the standoff, her stomach made a gurgling hungry noise, causing her to blush and instantly cover it, with an awkward expression of "Please pretend you didn't hear anything."
Steven asked, "Did you not eat at the banquet?"
"I wasn't very hungry at that time...but now..."
"I apologize for not being hospitable enough," Lawrence concealed his emotions and forced a smile. "Shall we go eat now? My treat."
Monica looked at Steven, then at Lawrence, about to say something, but heard Steven proactively respond, "Let's go."
The three of them walked to the car, and Steven naturally opened the passenger door, gesturing for Monica to get in.
It was a clear act of treating Lawrence as a guest.
Lawrence didn't say anything and got into the back seat alone, saying, "Monica really likes the snacks from that bakery on Park Avenue."
"She doesn't usually eat those at night, as she finds them too heavy," Steven held the steering wheel and looked straight ahead, "She usually prefers something lighter."
The two silently exchanged glances, and the final decision fell to Monica.
"Either is fine," she said unconsciously, playing with her phone. "Just find somewhere to fill our stomachs."
The process of eating was also torturous.
The three of them sat in a small private room, eating silently without much interaction. Steven didn't like talking, and Lawrence was not interested either, until Monica suggested paying the bill.
Steven handed her his card, saying, "Use mine, you know the password."
Lawrence chuckled, "We agreed I would treat."
"It's fine, no need to be stingy with his money," Monica hurriedly grabbed her phone and, without being polite, took Steven's card. "Wait for me here."
She pushed the door and left, leaving only two people in the private room.
They looked at each other, then sat back in their seats.
The door was quickly pushed open, and a waiter peeked in. "We have a delivery for someone surnamed Monica...?"
"Give it to me."
"I'll take it."
Two voices sounded at the same time, and the waiter, holding a bag, looked at the two handsome men who stood up spontaneously in a daze.
"Mr. Liang's hand is injured, it's better for him to rest. Let me take care of it." Steven walked over.
Lawrence remained silent, took a step back, and sat down again. The door closed again.
"Mr. Wright seems to have a grudge against me."
"Why ask when you already know the answer, Mr. Liang?"
Lawrence remained silent for a while. "She didn't admit it was you."
Steven asked in response, "Do we need her to admit it?"
The intimate and natural atmosphere between the two of them had already explained everything. They knew each other so well, even the PIN numbers of their bank cards. No third person could easily intervene.
Unconsciously, she had come to depend on another man to this extent, allowing him to intrude into her life.
Lawrence sighed heavily, "To be honest, it is hard for me to accept."
Ever since Steven said that the man who answered the phone that morning was him, Lawrence had a sense of impending failure. Monica was at the hospital tonight, and he was the first person she thought of for help, not her brother Eric. This already said a lot.
The answer was already predetermined, so why did he insist on following them tonight? The reason behind it all was his unwillingness.
He had thought that with their years of deep and genuine feelings, he would be able to win her over gradually. But he never expected that someone had already taken a step ahead.
"Life is not always smooth sailing. Mr. Liang understands this, and it will help him see many things clearly."
Lawrence forced a sarcastic smile, "Are you trying to educate me with the posture of a winner?"
"You're wrong. I never saw this as a victory, and she is not some prize in a battle between men," Steven calmly explained. "I need her, and she chose me. It's as simple as that."
Lawrence slumped in his chair, clutching his right hand tightly, which was wrapped in gauze, and blood slowly seeped through.
Steven glanced at him. "You don't need to compete with yourself. It won't change anything, and I must confess that I also used to be jealous of you."
Lawrence suddenly looked up.
"I met her when she was in high school. But you, you had memories and had been a part of her life long before that. That's a place I can never touch," Steven said.
"You used to be the prince in her teenage dreams, and that admiration made me jealous. I even had to put in efforts beyond yours to gain her favor, to win her heart."
After listening, Lawrence's neck seemed to collapse, as if all the bones had been sucked out.
"What if I hadn't gone abroad..."
"What difference would it make?" Steven casually stated, "The result wouldn't change."
"Even if I hadn't been there, would your relationship have lasted? Romance doesn't feed you. Have you really considered everything?" Steven looked at his injured hand and pointed out mercilessly.
"The most important thing for a man is responsibility and commitment. You only know how to avoid facing family problems. How can you bear to let her waste her time with you? Are you really considering her happiness?"
"Is this love? No, you're just purely satisfying yourself."
Loving someone means restraining yourself when you realize that you are not capable of giving them enough happiness, rather than selfishly dragging them down with you.
Lawrence was speechless, without any confidence to argue back, he said, "You're only a few years older than me..."
"This is something I understood when I was 22," Steven calmly replied.
The atmosphere in the private room was heavy, as the curtains were gently lifted and then fell again with the breeze. Lawrence stared out the window for a while before slowly speaking, "I was actually planning to confess tonight."
"After the banquet, I was going to take her to my studio. I had prepared for a long time, capturing the sunrise in Sichuan, taking her photos, doing my best to create romance. But I never expected..."
An accident caused by a bracelet completely ruined everything.
Steven didn't say anything.
"But it's for the best. She had already made her decision, so at least I won't embarrass myself and won't be able to face her anymore in the future."
Steven looked at Lawrence as if he was seeing his own bewildered self from years ago.
To be honest, Lawrence didn't do anything wrong. He treated Monica gently, patiently, and with courtesy, always protecting her innocence.
But love is irrational and selfish like this. It won't favor whoever is pitiful, nor is there any possibility of compromise.
Monica entered the room at this moment, holding a receipt in her hand. She immediately noticed the bag on the table and said, "Oh, it arrived? These high heels are hurting my feet, so I had someone deliver another pair."
Lawrence turned away and gently sniffed, then stood up with a smile. "Monica, I should be going."
"Alright, then let Steven take you back first—"
"No need, I just contacted my family, and they are sending a car to pick me up."
Monica looked at his hand, shocked, and said, "Why is it bleeding again? You should be careful with the wound."
"It's just a small injury, it's nothing," he walked over, rubbing her hair, "Monica, goodbye."
This farewell was a farewell to his past emotions.
"Goodbye," Monica waved her hand, "Take care of your injury. A photographer's hands are important."
He nodded with a smile and quickly disappeared at the door.
Lawrence also left. Monica turned around and looked at Steven standing beside her. She blinked suggestively at him.
Steven raised an eyebrow lightly.
She pointed at the bag and said, "I need to change my shoes first."
"Well, so?"
She sat on the chair and playfully rubbed her leg against his shin, saying, "Can you do it for me?"