Chapter 97: Chapter 96
Joanna took the elevator to the ninth floor. Instead of knocking, she simply used her key to open the door.
She opened it to a brightly lit, quiet living room.
’Where’s Simon?’
The faint scent of tobacco lingered in the air, and Joanna wrinkled her nose, the movement barely perceptible.
Her gaze swept across the living room, finally landing on the man standing before the floor-to-ceiling windows with his back to her.
The window was open a crack. The man stood silhouetted against the light, the crimson cherry of a cigarette flaring and fading between his fingers. He exuded a cold, somber aura.
Hearing the door open, the man turned around unhurriedly. A cigarette dangled from his lips, the white smoke obscuring his face and expression, though his dark eyes remained placid.
Joanna paused for a moment before walking over, feigning surprise. "What are you doing here?"
Simon Lockwood said nothing. He clenched the filter between his teeth and lowered his gaze, quietly staring at the girl before him. The rising white smoke veiled the turbulent darkness swirling in his eyes.
’What set him off this time?’
Joanna didn’t know what was going on, but her sense of danger made her instinctively want to back away. "Simon, you—"
Her words died in her throat as the man’s handsome face loomed closer.
The tall man leaned in, stopping just inches from her cheek.
His intense, oppressive gaze bored into her eyes. Suddenly, the corner of his lip curled into an unreadable smirk, and he slowly blew a smoke ring at her fair, beautiful face.
The pale smoke drifted across her lovely, shimmering face, creating a breathtakingly beautiful sight. The look in Simon Lockwood’s eyes grew even more inscrutable.
Caught off guard, Joanna inhaled a lungful of secondhand smoke. She broke into a fit of coughing, her face a mask of disbelief. Reddening with anger, she slapped him hard on the shoulder, her voice furious. "Are you insane?!"
She waved a hand frantically in front of her face, trying to disperse the tobacco scent. Her shimmering eyes were wide and round, filled with exasperation.
’Seriously, is Simon Lockwood insane?! It’s bad enough that he smokes, but does he have to make me inhale it secondhand?!’
’What kind of asshole is he?!!’
Simon Lockwood watched her for a moment before suddenly grabbing her hand. Under her glare, he actually broke into a faint, unreadable smile. "Joanna... when are you going to get a little smarter?"
Joanna: "???"
"Wait, did you follow me all the way here just to say that one thing to mock me?"
Joanna couldn’t wrench her hand free. "Right, because *you’re* the smart one!" she seethed through gritted teeth.
Simon Lockwood straightened up, his tone slow and drawn out. "Smarter than you."
Joanna: "........."
"...Wait a minute, what did I do to set you off this time?!"
At her indignant question, Simon Lockwood’s lips pressed into a thin line, the smile vanishing from his face. His voice was quiet. "You’re always provoking me."
"........."
Joanna choked on her words for a moment. Taking a deep breath and reining in her temper, she asked, "What is really going on?"
Simon Lockwood stared at her in silence.
’That one word, "always," said it all. Simon Lockwood was still holding a grudge over what happened back then. He had never forgotten.’
Her eyes stung with unshed tears. "Simon, you still blame me, don’t you?"
Simon Lockwood stared at her red-rimmed eyes. After a long moment, he finally spoke, his tone laced with undisguised bitterness. "Yes. Haven’t you always known?"
Joanna’s expression froze. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Simon Lockwood suddenly let out a laugh. "Joanna," he said, enunciating each word, "I hate you so much."
’Ever since they’d met again, he’d had only one goal: make Joanna fall in love with him, make her unable to leave him, turn her into a puppet who could only survive under his protection.’
’He’d been paranoid, convinced that Joanna didn’t really love him. He told himself she was spoiled, selfish, naive, and completely obsessed with pretty faces...’
’And yet, time and time again, reality forced him to tear down his own convictions.’
’The money she donated all of, the fact she’d been single for six years, the water cup she’d used for so long, the bracelet she’d kept hidden...’
’Reflected in the light of Joanna’s clarity and sincerity, he saw just how vile he was, how... unscrupulous.’
’He hated Joanna so damn much, for reducing him to this... pathetic state.’
Joanna froze, terrified by his sudden outburst. She stood stunned, her mind a complete blank.
’Joanna had imagined Simon would blame her, even dislike her, but she had never, ever imagined it would be "hate".’
’The emotion behind that word was too intense, too tangled, too painful...’
"I’m sorry..." the girl said, dazed.
But Simon’s eyes reddened as he advanced on her. "Why are you apologizing? You were free to make your own choices. I’m the one who can’t get over it, the one who can’t move on. So why are you apologizing?"
"Is it sympathy? Pity? Or... is it like?" Simon’s voice was hoarse, almost paranoid in his desperation for an answer. "Joanna, answer me."
’He just needed that one answer. He would believe it, whether it was the truth or a lie, and then he would convince himself to go back to being the Simon Lockwood who would do anything for Joanna without a second thought.’
Joanna could see all the pain and conflict in the man’s eyes. She felt as if a giant hand were squeezing her heart, making it impossible to breathe.
The air was still. A few wisps of night breeze drifted in through the crack in the window. Joanna’s voice was choked with sobs. "I do..."
The words had barely left her lips before the man pulled her into a tight embrace.
Simon closed his eyes, burying his face in the crook of her neck. A single tear escaped and traced a path from the corner of his eye. His throat bobbed, and he hugged her even tighter, his body trembling. "I know..."
Just those two words. Two words were enough.
Simon thought that he would no longer dwell on the past; he didn’t need Joanna’s explanation anymore.
From this moment on, he would draw a line between the past and the present. He would never bring it up again.
But Joanna obviously wanted to explain everything. Sobbing, she launched into a long, rambling explanation.
Much of it Simon didn’t understand—something about a "mission" and "transmigrating into a book." It was all too fantastical. He figured Joanna was just dazed from all the crying.
But he understood the most important parts. His Joanie hadn’t wanted to drag him down. Her heart had ached for him.
The more she spoke, the harder she cried, a tangled mess of grievance, sorrow, and heartbreak that she couldn’t seem to stop.
Simon gently patted her back, his voice soft. "You were never a burden..."
’The winters in Meridia were so cold. Back then, he’d rushed between school and work each day, sustained only by the memory of her resolute figure walking away. He’d thought it was hatred that fueled him.’
’But in truth, the line between love and hate was never very clear.’
’Pain is the most profound form of love’s longevity. After this, the chill that haunted his dreams would no longer have power over him.’
Eventually, she cried herself to sleep on his shoulder. Her thin eyelids were red and swollen, her eyelashes damp. Even in sleep, she clutched tightly to his shirt.
Simon sat by the bed, watching her for a long time. The moon sank as the edge of the sky began to pale with the coming dawn. He opened his palm. A silver bracelet glimmered in the faint light, just as it had all those years ago.
.........
Joanna woke up early. Just opening her eyes felt difficult. She picked up her phone from the bedside, used the screen as a mirror, and saw that her eyes were swollen shut.
’Oh, right. She’d cried herself into a stupor before falling asleep last night.’
As the memories of the previous night came flooding back, Joanna felt the urge to cry all over again.
