My Simple Bliss, Our Separate Ways

I had expected that the night after my aspiration was fulfilled would bring a peaceful and satisfying sleep. However, my attempt to adjust to the time difference suddenly came to a halt in less than two hours. I got out of bed and sat there on the soft mattress, feeling an inexplicable sense of emptiness.

My nearby phone kept flashing with a continuous stream of messages. There were congratulations from colleagues, invitations from internationally renowned directors, and a few familiar financiers politely suggesting dinner at the Davinci Restaurant. The influx of messages overwhelmed my thoughts.

I didn't hurry to respond. Instead, I casually turned on the TV, letting the background noise fill the bathroom as I started my shower. Over time, I had developed a habit of creating background noise in quiet surroundings.

While I was in the middle of my shower, the entertainment news segment began, and the sound from the TV seeped into the bathroom, blending with the cascading water from the showerhead. I paused in my actions and listened attentively.

"Mr. Smith, after six years abroad, your sudden return to the country, does it suggest that the Smith family is on the verge of a major change?"

"Mr. Smith, your wife didn't accompany you on this trip back to the country. Is there a hidden reason behind it? Would you be willing to share any insights?"

"Not at all convenient!"

"My parents have an incredibly strong bond. Next month is my birthday, and they've promised to host a birthday party for me at Disney. I even have a beautiful princess dress!"

In the camera frame, Luke held the little girl in his arms, and she spoke with a sweet, childlike voice. Her fine double ponytails swayed like drumsticks, and she displayed clear annoyance at the reporters' intrusive questions, pouting to express her discontent—very discontent indeed!

Luke chuckled and brushed her hair behind her ear, teasingly scolding her, "Don't bite your fingers, it's not hygienic."

In that moment, Luke looked every bit like a doting father. The little girl seemed deeply hurt by Luke's public scolding, her eyebrows and eyes curved, her lips pouting, tears held back in her throat.

Luke hastily lifted the little girl, showering her with kisses and comforting words. He anxiously pressed his cheek against hers, and the child's teary sobs gradually subsided.

Luke had always been defenseless against girls' tears, whether it was in the past or now.

I vaguely recall the first time I landed a role from a famous director. I was so filled with emotion that I both laughed and cried while resting on Luke's chest. I wiped my running nose and tears on him, which he found quite repulsive. He wanted to change his clothes, but I clung to him, crying and blaming him for not sharing in my happiness. Eventually, Luke lost his temper and cradled me like a baby.

"Okay, alright, my dearest Hazel is the best! In the future, she's heading for Hollywood, aiming to become an international leading lady and grab an Oscar. I might not even be worthy of holding your dress for you then.

"Who knows? Maybe this heartless lady over here might kick me to the curb and say, 'I'm an international superstar, who's Luke Smith?' You better stay far away from me!"

He teased me, mimicking my voice, with a hand over his throat.

I remember how I responded back then. Oh yes, I said, "Of course! On the road to becoming a renowned actress, I'll have to avoid any mortal romantic entanglements. I'll be the one to leave you behind and ascend to godhood."

Luke looked at me with a smile in his eyes, always so gentle. It seemed like he never had a temper.

But later, our playful words turned into an unfortunate prophecy. It's hard to say whose fault it was.

I strolled alongside the earth-toned walls of the Westland Cathedral, draped in a light coat. The sycamore leaves swirled lazily into my hands on that chilly November day.

In recent years, the Westland Cathedral had undergone several major renovations, and its exterior landscape had little resemblance to what it once was. It seemed to have forgotten the days when we stood silently beneath the golden ginkgo trees at the entrance, bidding our farewells.

My mom called to ask if I had eaten, as she had prepared a meal.

"I'm getting engaged next month, so I want to seek some blessings at the Westland Cathedral. Didn't you mention their blessings are the most efficacious?

"I understand. After I'm done with the prayer, I'll come back. Go ahead and eat."

I lowered my head, a faint smile gracing my lips as I gazed at my well-worn leather boots. They had served me for quite some time; perhaps it was time for a replacement. As I shifted my gaze, that's when I spotted Luke.

He hurriedly stepped out of the car, bearing the dust of the road. His throat rose and fell unevenly with each breath, and his deep, intricate eyes gazed at me. In the early winter weather, he was clad in nothing but a slightly thin black shirt and casual trousers. His attire emanated a chilly and desolate vibe.

He held the hand of a young toddler girl, with rosy cheeks and round, blinking eyes that exuded innocence. She looked at him, then at me, and with a soft voice, she called out, "Daddy."

Her voice carried a charming sweet accent.

I momentarily disregarded my mother's question on the phone, gently placing it down. The cold wind brushed against me, making me feel as though my body was being filled with a cool breeze, ready to be carried away.

After four years without contact, I had nearly forgotten how to start a conversation without it feeling awkward. Despite the memories of our past, we were now like strangers in an unfamiliar land.

"Are you here to pray with your child too? Why isn't Mrs. Smith here?"

Luke stood in front of me, looking somewhat leaner than he did four years ago, his stature appearing even taller. He bent down and exchanged a few words with the little girl. She responded with a sweet smile, bid farewell, and then cheerfully hopped into the black car parked by the roadside.

"Hazel, my grandfather passed away last month."

This statement carried significant meaning. Luke's gaze turned solemn, concealing some deep emotions. While his grandfather was alive, he had held a firm grip on the reins of the Smith family, including decisions about the marriages of the younger generation. His grandfather played a substantial role in stopping me from marrying into the Smith.

I had expected this news to be somewhat shocking, but in the end, I found myself surprisingly calm. "So what's next? Are you finally free to divorce Mrs. Smith and keep me as your plaything?"

He suppressed his emotions and replied, "I will handle this matter slowly, Hazel. Just wait for me, okay..."

I wasn't interested in hearing his explanation. Instead, I turned my gaze towards the cute little figure swaying in the black car parked by the roadside and sighed, "Your daughter is very adorable. Your family must adore her, right?"

Luke's lips moved, but he couldn't continue my sentence.

I turned back to him, maintaining my calm tone as if I had asked him countless questions before. "Yes, your child is healthy and happy, receiving unwavering love from all the adults in the Smith family. Yet, my child died one lonely night without anybody caring. Luke, how can we ever go back to the past?"