Chapter 7

(Simon's perspective)
The third day after Diana fell into the sea.
Simon's secretary called, saying that the search and rescue team still hadn't found her.
The optimal rescue time had passed, and the chances of survival were slim.
"Miss Bell has come from the hospital and is waiting outside for you."
She hesitated and looked at Simon. "Do you want to see her?"
He stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the darkening sky outside for a while before finally speaking.
"No, let her go home and rest."
As he spoke, Cecilia pushed the door open and coldly stared at him, saying, "What does this mean? Are you blaming me for Diana's death?"
Her cheekbones were grazed, and her arm had a long cut, which was now wrapped in bandages.
But compared to Diana, whose life or death was currently unknown, these injuries were just trivial.
Simon avoided her gaze and spoke in a subdued tone, "No, you should go home and rest."
Cecilia didn't leave. She stood in place, her eyes red as she looked at him.
"You regret it, don't you?"
"Regret what?"
"Regret getting engaged to me, regret that the person you caught that day wasn't her!"
Simon pursed his lips and remained silent.
"Simon, understand clearly, she is just a stand-in who willingly lowered herself for money!"
She carried her Hermès bag, with pink diamond rings on her fingers, and her entire outfit added up to over a million.
By a strange coincidence, Simon thought of the first time he saw Diana.
In the dimly lit bar, amidst the dizzying lights and colors, she wore a washed-out shirt and had short hair.
Guests intentionally teased her and stuffed tips into her neckline.
She calmly took them out and carefully put them in her pocket, thanking the guests.
In her eyes, it seemed like there was a flame burning at her neckline.
Including later on.
For three-hundred-thousand dollars, she willingly came to him, offering herself.
When he heard the gossip about Cecilia, anger welled up in his heart, and he intentionally tormented her in front of her guests.
At many moments when she bowed her back, the flame in her eyes may have temporarily dulled, but it never extinguished.
Simon admitted that he initially looked down on Diana.
His and her lives were worlds apart.
On that first chaotic night, he vented his contempt on her.
Diana endured silently, her eyes lowered, her eyelashes trembling intensely, as if enduring immense pain.
The next morning, she asked him if she could borrow some money.
"Just consider it as a loan to me."
Simon sometimes feels restless.
Because he feels that he has never truly possessed her.
She was only forced to stay by his side for the sake of money and the gratitude that came with that ridiculous three-hundred-thousand dollars.
He knew that she would secretly read books in places where he couldn't see, as if she was always prepared to leave him.
He never experienced even a second of the eager, passionate gaze she had when reading.
He only wanted Diana's eyes to be able to contain him, even if it was filled with annoyance and hatred.
And so, one wrong step after another.
The tenth day after Diana fell off the cliff.
Everyone said that she couldn't have survived.
His friends advised him, "Let it go, it's already like this, don't create unpleasantness with Cecilia over a dead person. Besides, didn't you say she was just a stand-in?"
Simon lifted his head.
His eyes were bloodshot.
Cecilia, standing beside him, shed tears.
She questioned him, "The news about Jasmine going to jail has already been released. Are you announcing the cancellation of our engagement now to tell others that you were just playing along with me?"
"Simon, are you really not considering my career?"
At this moment, she still called him Simon.
With a gentle and mournful tone, her eyes displayed an endearing expression.
Simon suddenly realized that Diana had never used such an intimate term to address him.
At first, she called him Mr. Turner, and later, under his command, she only reluctantly added his first name.
Formal and unfamiliar.
Simon started dreaming of Diana frequently.
In his dreams, he didn't humiliate and belittle her. He didn't keep her by his side out of gratitude. As a result, her attitude towards him gradually became gentle, and she even took down the barriers and called him ‘Simon’.
He picked her up from work at the research institute, hiding a large bouquet of roses in the car.
She was a bit surprised as she received the bouquet, finally willing to sincerely smile at him.
But when he woke up, there was nothing.
On the bedside table were the books Diana had read, the papers she had written, and the experimental results she had secretly studied.
That was her world, and he had never entered it for a single moment.
And so, three years passed.
One day, in the news, during a scientific research conference held abroad, he casually glanced at the screen.
In the corner, there was a figure that seemed vaguely familiar.
Simon stood up in shock, almost thinking that he was still in a dream.
He had someone check it, and the response came quickly. The person's name wasn't Diana, but rather a doctoral student studying in a science program at a foreign university.
As if falling from a warm and unreal dream, Simon silently stared out the window for a long time.
"She is still alive."
Diana's body was never found.
That meant she still had some chance of survival.
Simon began searching for her all over the world, starting from that cliff.
Where does that sea current flow to? Who has been there? Nearby hospitals of various sizes.
Hope was ignited time and time again, only to witness hope shattered before his eyes.
He was tormented by this constant back and forth.
Two whole years passed without any sign.
But he held onto a glimmer of hope in his heart and continued to wait.
Waiting for the day when she would be willing to appear before him.
Perhaps out of hatred and revenge, it didn't matter.