After they left, I also went straight home from the cruise ship. When I left, I didn’t take anything with me except my ID and
bank card.
I placed the pre–signed divorce papers on the coffee table, then walked out of the house without looking back.
Rylan, Lily.
The next time we meet. I’ll have a bio surprise for you both.
11
Waiting in line for the security check, my phone started ringing. “Britta, you should go home by yourself. Lily’s stomach is very uncomfortable, and Elliot can’t make it back today. As his
brother, I definitely need to help him take care of his wife.”
“After all, Lily’s pregnancy was affected because of your actions.
Can you be a little more understanding?”
I felt nothing inside, and even wanted to laugh a little.
“Mm–hmm.”
Hearing my response, Rylan on the other end of the phone clearly breathed a sigh of relief.
“I knew my Britta was the most sensible. I shouldn’t have been
harsh with you today. I was wrong too. I’ve asked my secretary to bring you your favorite sashimi. Eat plenty.”
“Oh, and I drew a picture for you as an anniversary gift, but I
forgot to give it to you.”
“I’ll bring it back to you tomorrow. Didn’t you always want me to draw a picture for you? You’ll be so surprised when you see it
tomorrow.”
Rylan’s last words pulled my thoughts back to when I had just
returned home.
When I went to the study to find a pen, I saw that wooden box
in the corner of the room, and remembered the gentle look in
his eves as he gazed at this box while talking to his secretary
Thad never opened
I opened it.Inside, there were numerous oil paintings, all featuring the same person as the main subject.
In the bottom right corner of each painting, he had written
down his mood for that day.
Beneath a somewhat amateur painting, it read: “Lily at five, like a little princess straight out of a fairy tale.”
Under a vivid sketch, it said: “Lily at thirteen, her eyes seem to
see only her brother.”
Beneath a vibrant oil painting, it stated: “Lily at eighteen, in love
with her brother.”
Both the artwork and the content…
These paintings were telling me that Rylan’s love for Lily was far more long–standing and profound than I had ever imagined. Rylan had been learning to paint since childhood, and even before he came of age, he had held his own art exhibition. To me, putting emotions into brushstrokes had always seemed an incredibly romantic gesture.
Countless times, I had wanted him to paint a portrait of me. Whenever I brought it up, Rylan would resignedly pull me into his arms.
“Work’s too busy, and besides, we have cameras now. Who still does portrait paintings? It’s so old–fashioned.”
