Chapter 18

The people in the private room left one by one, and the air suddenly fell silent. Before I could react, Brian Locke suddenly dropped to his knees in front of my father with a thud. “Dad, over the past five years, because of Lily Bennett, Sophia and I have had so many misunderstandings. I didn’t take good care of her, made her suffer so much, and hurt you too. I’m sorry—sorry to you, and sorry to Sophia Reed.”

He’d told the whole story from start to finish—no self-pity, no shifting blame. He’d just kept his head down, his voice full of remorse. My father had sat in his chair, sipping tea slowly, saying nothing. I’d wanted to tell Brian to get up, but my father had given me a sharp look, so I’d held back and just watched Brian’s straight figure as he knelt there.

My father had asked the waiter to refill his tea. He’d drunk cup after cup, even asking me to try some, as if Brian Locke wasn’t even there. Minutes ticked by—five, ten, twenty, thirty… Until Brian’s knees had started to tremble slightly, my father had finally looked at him and said, “I accept your apology. Get up.”

But Brian hadn’t moved. He’d looked up at me, then turned back to my father, “I beg you, Dad—help me. Ask Sophia Reed to give me a chance to make things right.”

“I can’t make decisions for Sophia Reed. She’s an adult—she has her own mind,” my father had said, putting down his teacup, his tone flat.

I’d followed my father’s lead and said, “There’s no chance for us, Brian Locke. You don’t have to do this.”

But he’d acted as if he hadn’t heard me, still kneeling there. After another half hour, my father had stood up, sighed, and said, “Get up. It’s a shame, but the timing was never right for you and Sophia.”

Brian’s face had turned pale, and the light in his eyes had faded little by little. He’d leaned on the chair beside him and slowly stood up, his voice hoarse, “Then let me drive you home. Let me do this one last thing for you.”

We’d dropped my father off first, then headed to our former marital home. I’d fallen asleep leaning against the back of the seat at some point. When I’d woken up, the car had already stopped downstairs. Brian had been sitting beside me, watching me quietly with a complex look in his eyes. His hand had lifted slightly, as if he wanted to touch my hair, but it had frozen halfway and then slowly dropped back down.

I’d known—he’d probably been remembering those rare warm moments we’d shared over the five years. But those moments had long been buried under Lily Bennett’s lies and his own coldness. Now, looking back, there was nothing left but endless regret.

After that, we hadn’t seen each other for a long time. Like two intersecting lines—after that brief point of crossing, we’d gone our separate ways, growing farther and farther apart. I’d thought our lives would never intersect again—until my father had suddenly been hospitalized.

That day, the doctor had held the test results and said my father had kidney problems and needed an immediate transplant. I’d burst into tears on the spot. Justin Cole had held my hand tightly beside me, taking charge of everything—admission to the hospital, matching for a kidney donor, and more. The days waiting for a donor had been extremely agonizing. Some people had waited a year or two with no luck, but I’d been incredibly fortunate. A week later, the doctor had called to say they’d found a suitable donor and the surgery could be done right away.

The surgery had gone smoothly. When my father had been wheeled out of the operating room, I’d cried again—this time tears of joy. Over the next week, I’d stayed at the hospital every day, never leaving my father’s side.

Until that morning—I’d just finished feeding my father breakfast when the hospital room door had suddenly been thrown open with a bang. Margaret Locke had stormed in, pointing at me and yelling, “You jinx! You almost got my son killed when he fell off that cliff last time, and now you’ve made him lose a kidney!”

She’d pushed me so hard that I’d stumbled backward. I’d stood there in a daze, my mind blank, “Brian Locke donated a kidney to my father?”

“Quit pretending!” Margaret had sobbed, covering her face and complaining nonstop.

My heart had been a mix of emotions. I’d gotten Brian’s hospital room number from her and sneaked over. Before I’d even opened the door, I’d heard an argument inside. “Why on earth would you donate a kidney to her father? You don’t care about your own body at all! You’re making your father and me worry sick!” Margaret’s voice had been full of anger.

“The last time I fell off that cliff and was in the emergency room, you and Dad were too busy traveling abroad with my brother to care. It was Sophia Reed who looked after me. That’s why,” Brian’s voice had been calm, but with a faint hint of exhaustion.

“I’m your mother—would I ever hurt you?”

“Have you ever really cared about me? Just leave. I’d be more comfortable if you’d be quiet.”

I’d waited outside for a while until Margaret had stormed out angrily, then gently pushed open the door. “What now?” Brian had said without looking up, his tone a bit annoyed—but when he’d seen it was me, he’d stopped short, a look of embarrassment crossing his face.

“Did my mom go bother you? I’m sorry—I didn’t want you to find out about this,” he’d said, looking away awkwardly.

I’d leaned against the doorframe, looking at him in the hospital bed. He’d lost a lot of weight, his face was pale, but his features were still familiar. Actually, I hadn’t been wrong about him back then—Brian Locke’s nature wasn’t bad. It was just that we’d met at the wrong time, trapped by too many lies and misunderstandings, and had finally ended up like this.

My eyes had suddenly felt hot. I’d sniffled and said slowly, “It would be insincere to say I don’t need this. You saved my father’s life—I’m really grateful…”

Before I could finish, Brian had cut me off softly, “Then come see me every day while I’m in the hospital. Talk to me for half an hour.”

His tone had been tentative, almost cautious, his eyes full of hope. I’d looked at him, silent for a long time, and finally nodded gently.

Maybe we could never go back to the way we were before, but I couldn’t ignore this life-saving favor. And as for those half-hour daily visits—they would be my way of thanking him, and a dignified goodbye to the time we’d lost.