In it, Felicity sobbed, "William, I really didn’t do that. Will you believe me?"
William immediately affirmed, "I know everything."
Then came the sound of Felicity sobbing as she declared her feelings to William.
And William didn’t reject her.
He had once said he would unconditionally believe me and would never hurt me again for anyone.
But why did he abandon me again at this turning point in my life?
This recording felt like the last straw. I screamed, threw my phone down, and broke down in tears.
Many days passed before I finally decided to move on from this relationship.
Even if anyone hurt me, I would still live my life well.
I wanted to repeat a year of high school and start over.
I never thought of giving up on myself.
But I never expected my mother would have an accident.
Ever since I failed my exam, my parents hadn’t smiled.
My mother was constantly anxious, running around trying to get justice for me.
When she received another negative response, she was hit by a speeding car in a daze.
When I arrived at the hospital, my mother was already in a coma, and the doctor said the chances of her waking were extremely slim.
I cried all day, but even then, William didn’t come to see her.
He had also been raised by my parents.
In my most painful moment, I cut my wrists, thinking this would end my painful and failed life.
But fate was cruel, and destiny did not…
Give me this chance.
I didn’t die as I imagined. After sleeping for a long time, I opened my eyes to find my father’s worried face.
Even though I had only been unconscious for a day, he seemed to have aged overnight.
I knew it was time to grow up.
After that day, I deleted all contact information for William and Felicity.
William got into MIT and Harvard University, and although Felicity’s grades weren’t as high as his, she also applied to a London university.
He did go where he wanted, but the person beside him wasn’t me.
And because of my mother’s expensive medical treatment, I didn’t want to burden my family further.
So I didn’t repeat a year of high school; instead, I picked up my paintbrush, which I excelled at.
Life was hard at first, but it slowly improved over the years.
While organizing my paintings, I realized five years had already passed.
Just then, I received a phone call.
It was the buyer who had purchased my painting last week. I answered, and a very familiar voice came from the other end.