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The memories here were too painful.If they hurt us,it was time to let go and begin anew.
The day we left,drizzle fell.Emily hoped Ethan would come to see George off,but he didn’t show up.
Days later,we saw news:before his trial,Ethan visited Sophie and Scarface,smuggling a knife and killing them.The scene was bloody,horrific.
After,he went crazy,clutching the cartoon tin,sometimes begging“Dad”for forgiveness,sometimes cursing Buddy as a heartless beast.
Some said he mentioned me,claiming he loved me the most,transferring all his assets to me.
He cried for Emily to kill him,saying he wasn’t human.
But what did it all matter?George was gone,and regret couldn’t change that.
Emily thought I’d refuse Ethan’s assets,but I didn’t. He was a despicable person, but the money itself was neutral.
I’d never forgive him—a murderer.
Later on,Emily and I became teachers in a rural village. After everything we had been through, we wanted to stay away from city life.
We loved playing with the kids,seeing my younger self in them—timid,insecure.
George had lifted me up,always praising my kind heart,calling me and Emily his treasure.
Slowly,I grew bright,lively,confident.Only now did I realize that I didn't really love Ethan. What I loved was the process of becoming a better person, and I had mistaken that for love.
A breeze carried orange blossom scent.George,visiting me?See,I’m as happy as you hoped.
Our salaries were enough to cover our needs.We used the money from selling the house and Ethan’s assets to start a rural co-op,creating local jobs so parents could stay with their kids.I loved seeing families whole.
Like George,we started sponsoring orphans and offered jobs at the cooperative to help them maintain their pride.
We became like George,fussing over kids’meals and clothes,turning into old maids.
But one thing never changed:the village dogs would stare at us, confused, not knowing what they had done wrong.
