Chapter 582 James Disappears
After hanging up with Jade, Patricia made her way back to the bathroom to clean the clothes she'd woken up in, intending to return them to Alan.
Lifting the clothes, she was hit by a scent she couldn't shake—a familiar mix of mint and something medicinal. It was the same scent she'd associated with James from their first meeting, unmistakable and memorable.
Initially, she hadn't noticed, still groggy from the night before. But now, the scent was undeniable.
Could it be that these clothes were actually James', not Alan's? And did that mean she had seen James last night?
The thought sent a rush of excitement through her, reigniting something she thought was long gone. It felt like a beacon of hope in the darkness.
Trying to contain her excitement, she washed, dried, and folded the clothes neatly, bringing them to the office the next day.
Alan, ever composed, gave no indication that anything was amiss.
Patricia, after a few furtive glances, decided to confront the situation head-on. "I've cleaned these up for you."
Alan reached for the clothes. "You didn't have to do that. I could've taken care of it."
But Patricia wasn't about to let it go that easily.
Alan looked at her, puzzled.
With a knowing smile, Patricia laid it out. "These aren't your clothes."
Alan's reaction was fleeting, a brief flicker of surprise, but he remained noncommittal. "What are you getting at, Ms. Watson?"
It wasn't really a question. Patricia was sure of it now. "These clothes carry James' scent."
Alan's smile was his only response, his silence speaking volumes.
Patricia pressed on, her voice tinged with urgency. "Where is he now?"
Alan's advice was gentle but firm. "It's best not to dwell on it. Some people are meant to come into our lives just for a moment."
His words were like a weight on Patricia's heart.
Was James meant to be just a fleeting presence in her life, much like Martin had been?
Seeing Patricia so distressed, Alan's voice softened. "Ms. Watson, it's clear you have feelings for him. But those feelings might just be because he reminds you of Martin. It's not truly about him."
Patricia's reaction was a mix of confusion and determination, her hands clenching into fists.
Alan continued, "Martin's gone, and James has his own life to get back to. We should focus on ours."
With that, he picked up the clothes, ready to leave.
As Alan reached for the door, she rushed over, grabbing his hand, her eyes brimming with tears. "Even if he's just a shadow of Martin, I can't let go."
Alan was taken aback by her intensity.
Patricia's voice was choked with emotion. "Where is he? I need to see him."
Alan looked torn. "I really shouldn't say."
Patricia's desperation was palpable. "Please, Alan. I need to know if this is about him or just the shadow of Martin I see in him. I can't live with the regret of not finding out."
She was pleading, on the verge of breakdown.
Alan was conflicted. He'd promised James confidentiality, but seeing Patricia so distraught was unbearable.
As he wavered, Patricia seized the moment. "Please, Alan. I have to know."
Alan let out a heavy sigh. "I can't predict whether you'll regret this or not, but James certainly won't be pleased with me."
Patricia's relief was immediate, a clear sign that Alan had relented.
Soon after, he reluctantly gave up James' address.
Patricia was ecstatic. "I won't tell him you told me."
Alan's laugh was hollow. In a city where only he knew James' whereabouts, who else could Patricia say had told her?
With James' address in hand, Patricia drove as fast as she could to his place, heart racing as she raised a shaky hand to knock on the door.
It swung open almost instantly.
Flustered, Patricia stammered, "James, I was just wondering if—"
Her words trailed off as she registered who was actually standing in the doorway, her initial smile freezing in place.
Confused, she stepped back, double-checking the unit number.
But there was no mistake. It was definitely 1808.
"Hi, I'm here to see James. Does he live here?"
The man at the door offered a polite smile. "James? Oh, he moved out early this morning. Asked me to handle renting out the place."
Patricia's heart sank, her face losing all color. "He moved? Do you know where he went?"
The man shrugged apologetically. "I'm afraid not. He just packed a suitcase and left."
Patricia felt as if the ground had given way beneath her, her spirit and hope draining away with each word.
He had left.
James had left, perhaps to avoid any further entanglement with her.
It was a harsh realization that, perhaps, her feelings had been one-sided all along.
Meanwhile, Alan was startled by a message that popped up on his phone.
[Alan, I'm gone. Please, look after Patricia for me. And don't be sad. I'm just glad I could be there for her when she needed someone. It's time to forget about me.]
Alarmed, Alan tried calling the number immediately, only to be met with a dead line.
Just like that, James had vanished, as if he'd never been part of their lives at all.
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