"We can sacrifice anything to get Izabe back to the Dempsey family."Brett, with skepticism painting his voice, challenged them, "Even if the Dempseys go bankrupt? Even if she''s penniless and her presence endangers your son''s life? You still want her?"
Bunny, wise and unwavering, replied, "To Casey, Izabe is his lifeblood. Without her, he might as well be a walking shell. They adore each other, Brett. Loving someone isn''t about keeping them close, it''s about wanting their happiness above all."
Brett retorted, "Aunt Bunny, do you not remember Grandpa''s teachings? Sentiment is for the weak. The Windhams prevail through pragmatism and cold calction. It''s our shield."
A bitter smile crept across Bunny''s lips. "And how many Windhams have fallen because of that creed? Years of infighting, brother turning against brother, all for gain. To me, it''s a tragedy. But not all who share Windham blood are like that. Leaving the Windham way can change a person."
As Brett''s gaze followed a distant figure, his eyes wereced with pain and awork of red veins. He struggled to keep them open, but no matter how hard he tried, the figure remained a blur. His outstretched hand was pierced by the night''s cold, his fingers tingling as if pricked by needles, the chill causing him to shiver uncontrobly. The sound of fireworks masked his choked breaths.
He pondered, had he left the Windhams earlier, abandoning thoughts of revenge, would he have been spared this cruel coldness, this selfishness? Could the oue have been different? Would Izabe still be by his side?
They could have watched fireworks together in the winter. Shared a Christmas Eve apple pie. Made wishes under the Christmas tree. Had meals together on New Year''s Eve. Cuddled on the couch watching the New Year''s countdown. Exchanged "Happy New Year" at the stroke of midnight. He could have knitted her a scarf, braided her hair.
If only he had understood sooner, but life offered no reruns.
There''s a saying that rings true-people always chase the best choice, but the pursuit often leads to unintended consequences.
"Izabe!" Brett''s cry was a guttural scream, blood in his mouth unnoticed, as it trickled down his chin, a sharp pain tearing through his chest.
He had told her not to look back when he pushed her to leave, yet now he desperately wished she would turn, just for one final nce.
He ached for it, but the words wouldn''te. A muffled cough escaped him as he sank to the ground, his body copsing under its own weight. He clutched his chest, looking at the warm droplets on his hand, but the darkness blurred his vision; he couldn''t tell if it was blood or tears.
With his heart in his throat, he looked up at Izabe, his voice a broken whisper, "Izabe, turn around, look at me. I''ve done so many wrongs to you in this life, I can''t expect forgiveness, but if there''s another life, if I meet you sooner, I swear I''ll treat you right." He knew she might be weary of his words, yet he still longed to speak them, to make amends for what he couldn''t fulfill in this life, hoping for another chance Izabe paused, murmured something, and lifted her dress to walk forward. She didn''t look back, her departure resolute.
Brett was at peace knowing she had been part of his final days, that she had worn that wedding dress, that he had crafted a ring to fit her finger, even though she had never worn it.
"Thank you, Izabe, for saving me once, for teaching me what it feels like to be loved, for indulging myst selfish wish, for proving my life wasn''t just about hatred. Life is precious because the darkness makes the light all the more brilliant."
When Izabe said she "couldn''t go on," Casey would not hesitate to move toward her.
Just like he always said, no matter where or when, whatever the circumstance, if Izabe reached out to him, he would embrace her with open arms.
"It''s not about how many steps you take," he had told her, "just take one towards me, and I''ll cover the other."
"Are your feet cold walking barefoot?" That was the first thing Casey asked, his gaze tender as he looked at her feet hidden beneath the hem of her dress.
Izabe shook her head, augh escaping her lips, "How did you know I was barefoot?"
"I know everything about you, including your height," Casey replied, having spotted at first nce that she wasn''t wearing shoes.
Izabe''sshes fluttered, her eyes fixed on Casey, silent until he took her trembling, icy hand in his.
Grasping back, her nose red, she choked out, "I almost thought you were an illusion."
A tightness gripped Casey''s chest, his eyes stinging, "You can keep asking me, to make sure I''m real."
"I''m sorry," she whispered.
Casey had grown thin, so thin that even in his heavy coat, he seemed to shrink against the dark, biting wind. His hands, always warm, were now barely warmer than her own.
Close enough to see the redness in his eyes, the chapped lips, his breath shaking, holding onto her hand as if she might vanish.
It wasn''t just Izabe who feared Casey was a mirage; he harbored the same fear.Copyright N?v/el/Dra/ma.Org.
When Izabe said "I''m sorry," a pain surged within Casey, a tumultuous wave of emotion, a fleeting dizziness as if the world spun around him.
He steadied himself, wondering why Izabe would apologize; was she nning to leave him?
Casey''s grip on Izabe''s hand had loosened ever so slightly, a tender gesture to ensure he didn''t cause her any difort.
Suddenly, Izabe wrapped her arms around him, her voiceced with regret, "I''m sorry. I should have never left without a word. I shouldn''t have signed those divorce papers, or turned my phone off so you couldn''t find me."
"You never had anything to apologize for," Casey said softly. "I just took too long to find you."
Although it hadn''t been more than a few weeks since they''dst seen each other, it felt like an age had passed.
She should have leaned on him, shared the burden instead of thinking she had to handle it all alone. Why did she leave without telling him anything?
She always thought that since the problems originated with her, she had to be the one to fix them. She feared wrecking the Dempsey family, feared ruining him.
But things often don''t go as nned, and her departure only caused Casey more pain.
What she thought was best was far from it for those who loved her.
Flipping the script, if Casey had disappeared without a word, she''d be sick with worry, too.
Thankfully, he had never doubted her, always trusted her. They had fulfilled their promise to each other and returned home together.
The winter air was brisk, filled with
the festive lights and balloons set up over the past few days. Firecrackers popped in the distance, and
fireworks burst overhead, theil no
fleeting beauty a stark reminder of
life''s impermanence.
It turned out all of Brett''s actions over the past days were aimed at letting her go. His insistence that she leave wasn''t just empty talk.
Brett had finally kept his word.
The booms of the fireworks were loud, apanying Brett''s distant voice, which seemed almost like an auditory hallucination.
Brett was a paradox of detachment and devotion. When he loved, he loved fiercely, ready to offer the world on a silver tter, eager to give anything that would please the apple of his eye.
Izabe didn''t believe in second chances, not for love. If Brett truly changed, it wouldn''t matter to her-she wasn''t the kind to retrace her steps.
Some people, once missed, were missed for a lifetime. When love was gone, no grand gestures or sweet words could reignite it.
She and Brett had made the same mistake. They both fell into the abyss, clinging desperately to anyone who would reach out a hand.
Hand in hand, Casey and Izabe walked towards the car, the fireworks overhead illuminating everything beneath them.
"Izabe!" Brett''s voice, raw and desperate, exploded from behind them, "Can you just look back at me once. If I meet you in the next life earlier."
Izabe halted but didn''t turn around. She simply tilted her head up to admire the fireworks.
People always talk about the next
life as if they could carry over
??
unfinished business, much like how they expect tomorrow to fulfill today''s promises, forever dying, neverpleting. The difference is, tomorrow is almost certain the next life is not.
"Maybe you said the same thing to me in a past life," Izabe whispered,
her voice soft and melodic. She looked up, her lips pursed, eyes closed, "Brett, I wish you a life of
peace and safety. May you
have the warmth of the sun in winter, a gentle breeze in summer, a prosperous journey ahead, free from illness and hardship. May you find true love and grow old together.
From now on, let''s live our lives
without ever crossing paths again. May you find peace."