Where the Cornflowers Grow, Love DiedChapter 1
Sierra's POV
After I was diagnosed with cancer, I decided to take a spontaneous trip as I wanted to avoid everyone.
But the moment I got off the bus, I ran straight into my ex-husband.
We hadn’t seen each other in ten years, and neither of us was who we used to be. He’d scrubbed off the tattoo I drew for him and traded his cheap clothes for designer brands. I, on the other hand, had taken off our matching wedding rings and was now walking around with a urine bag.
We exchanged a few polite words, both of us consciously avoiding the past.
Right as we were about to part, Liam Carter suddenly asked, “Sierra, do you still hate me?”
I shook my head lightly and calmly replied, “Not anymore.”
I didn’t have the strength or the time. At the end of my life, all I wanted was to see the fields of blooming cornflowers one more time.
——
This time, winter came early in North America. By August, the wind already carries a bite of cold.
The bus hadn’t arrived yet when Liam glanced down at me. Without a word, he took off his coat and draped it over my shoulders.
But a strong wave of perfume hit me, the scent that belonged only to Veronica Cooper.
I sneezed and gently pushed the coat back. “No need to be so polite. I’m allergic to perfume.”
He looked surprised. “Weren’t you the one who loved—”
Suddenly, he stopped mid-sentence, stunned, then quietly took the coat back. He didn’t say another word and just angled his umbrella a little more in my direction.
But the two of us were far past the age of sharing an umbrella in the rain. And we had long lost the right to do so anyway.
I didn’t want to linger around him, so before he could say anything else, I quickly slipped into a taxi parked nearby.
The driver had been watching us while cracking sunflower seeds. He grinned and teased, “Miss, looks like someone was trying to hit on you. That guy’s pretty good-looking. Not interested? From the moment he walked out of the station until you got in this taxi, he kept looking back at you.”
I took two pills from my bag and tossed them into my mouth, speaking a bit unclearly, “Not interested. That was my ex-husband. We’ve been divorced for ten years.”
The driver froze, then scratched his head awkwardly and quickly changed the subject. “I see. Well, Miss, you’re here to see the cornflowers too, right? You should’ve come earlier. They’re almost withered now.”