City of Longing

After speaking, Cora picked up her bag and headed downstairs. She had just reached the roadside when Kimberly caught up and grabbed her hand.

"Are you angry? I'll give you the concert tickets, then. You only have one last month together anyway. Seize the chance to make some memories. Otherwise, when you're old and looking back, you might have regrets."

Cora pulled her hand away and stepped back twice, her expression cold.

"No need. After the divorce, I'll forget the past. There's nothing worth remembering between him and me."

"That's harsh. Even though George only got together with you because I forced him to, you did take some of the burden off me. It's bad enough you can't have his love, but if you can't even have a few good marriage memories, wouldn't that make me too cruel?"

Kimberly continued offering false comfort while pulling at her, refusing to let her leave. As they struggled, neither noticed the car rushing toward them.

By the time the driver laid on the horn frantically and they both turned around, it was too late to dodge.

In that critical moment, George rushed over, swept Kimberly into his arms, and carried her to safety.

Cora was hit by the car and sent flying nearly 70 feet away. She crashed heavily to the ground. There was a loud thud. Bright red blood poured from her lips and nose, pooling on the pavement.

Her limbs felt like they were being torn apart. The pain made her whole body convulse and spasm.

It hurt. It hurt so much.

Her consciousness gradually grew hazy. Before passing out, she saw George comforting Kimberly, who was in shock.

She did not know how much time passed before the pain jolted her awake.

When she opened her eyes again, she found herself in the hospital. The first thing she saw was George's face, full of worry.

"Cora, how do you feel? You've been unconscious for two days. Do you know how worried I was?"

Cora looked at his anxious expression and remembered what she had seen before losing consciousness. She found it laughable.

On the edge of life and death, the person he chose to save was not her. She had been lying in a pool of blood, and he had not even noticed she was seriously injured.

She had never occupied a place in his heart. How could he possibly worry about her?

She took a light breath and spoke in a hoarse voice. "I'm fine. Go take care of Kimberly."

George froze, thinking she was upset that he had not saved her. He rushed to explain, "Kimberly's fine. You were hurt so badly. Of course, I'm staying to take care of you."

Cora shook her head and simply said she was tired. She closed her eyes to rest.

George did not disturb her further. He tucked in her blanket, fetched some water, and ordered a light lunch. After that, he took a phone call saying something had come up at the company and left. He told her he would come back tomorrow.

When the nurse came to check on her and saw how thoroughly he had prepared everything, she kept telling Cora how lucky she was to have married such a good husband.

Cora said nothing. She had just opened the plain lunchbox when her phone rang.

When she unlocked it, she saw a message from Kimberly.

[Sorry! That accident scared me so badly that I developed psychological trauma, so I sent George a message. He's having dinner with me right now. Afterward, he's taking me to the amusement park to help me relax, and later we're going to a movie too. Rest well in the hospital, okay?]

The attached photo showed a famous health food restaurant in the city. The table was covered with light, nutritious dishes.

Across from the camera, only George's hands were visible as he peeled a large bowl of shrimp for her, Kimberly's favorite.

Cora looked quietly at these photos and replied with only two words: [Have fun.]

Over the next week, George came to the hospital every day. He would sit for ten minutes, then leave.

Kimberly also sent messages on schedule, reporting their activities.

He would accompany her to the beach to watch the sunset, picking up shells to spell out their names in the sand. He would drive her to the countryside for a spin, buying flowers and balloons to cheer her up like she was a child.

He would take her to flower fields to ride in a hot air balloon, snapping thousands of photos of her alone with his camera.

Everything he did was not quite as intimate as lovers would be yet showed far more care than ordinary friends. It fell somewhere between friendship and romance. George had never done any of these things when he was dating Cora. The contrast was stark.

Once again, Cora felt grateful she had agreed to that wager.

After the doctor's final checkup, he handed over the prescription.

"Everything's healed up nicely. Have your husband handle the discharge paperwork and pick up the medication."

Cora took it, her tone completely neutral. "He's not my husband. We're divorced."

The next second, the hospital ward door swung open.

George walked in, looking shocked. "Divorced? What do you mean, divorced?"