Locked in Autumn’s MemoriesChapter 1
I was sent to prison by my wife for two years. After being released, I changed my name and left the country.
Seven years later, we met again in front of my sister’s grave.
When our eyes met, she stopped wiping the tombstone. In her eyes flashed a mix of emotions—shock, joy, guilt… all hard to describe.
“Dorian, I’ve been looking for you for so many years. I thought you… were gone too. Where have you been all these years? Why didn’t you contact me even once?”
Seeing that I didn’t respond, she quickly wiped the corner of her eyes.
“You’re avoiding me on purpose, aren’t you? You still hate what happened back then. I had my own difficulties.”
I didn’t know how she still had the face to say those things in front of my sister’s grave after killing her, stealing her husband and pushing me to the point where I almost couldn’t survive.
But love and hate were both luxuries. To me, she had already nothing.
——
Meeting again after so many years, my heart no longer stirred.
Vivienne turned around and left.
I bent down and gently placed the pure white chrysanthemum in my arms onto my sister’s tombstone.
In the photo, my sister’s smile was warm, her eyes clear, forever frozen at twenty-five.
If she were still alive, she’d definitely be at the airport picking me up today, just like when we were young, messing up my hair with a laugh.
“Little one, why are you frowning?”
No… If she were still alive, she would never have allowed me to be bullied to the point that I had to flee far away.
I crouched down and gently traced my fingers over my sister’s eyebrows and eyes on the tombstone.
“Selene, I have some good news to tell you…”
Before I could finish, Vivienne came back, holding a heavy bag and placing it in front of me.
“I once promised you that I’d make you a gift by hand every year on your birthday. I couldn’t find you these past years, so I saved them all up.”
A razor, the newest game console, an expensive watch… I could tell she really put effort into it.
But I felt nothing.
Her hand froze in mid-air and a hint of embarrassment and disappointment appeared on her face.
“You don’t like them? I can ask someone to prepare new ones. How about we have lunch together?”
“No, I still have something to do.”
She was about to continue pestering me, but her phone rang.