Chapter 4

They say you have to go through the worst pain to appreciate life.

I had tasted enough bitterness, yet here I was, left with nothing but a broken, failing body.

When I got home, I didn't even want to turn on the lights. A person like me belonged in the dark.

I sat on the sofa, staring blankly at the city lights outside.

Once upon a time, I had a light of my own.

Suddenly, a warm, metallic taste rushed up my throat. Blood erupted from my mouth and nose, instantly staining my clothes and splattering onto the floor.

If I couldn't see it, it didn't happen. If there was no visible wound, it wouldn't hurt.

Staring up at the white ceiling, the blank space slowly transformed into a projector screen of my memories.

It was the peak of my relationship with Ethan.

That year, I was twenty, and he was twenty-two.

He was incredibly wealthy, yet he fell head over heels for a completely ordinary girl like me.

On Christmas Eve, heavy snow was falling.

We walked down the street like any other deeply in love couple, letting the snow cover our heads. We joked that we were growing old together.

I had secretly wished back then that the person I grew old with would be him, must be him, could only be him.

He had suddenly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his warm coat.

"Jasmine, it's almost Christmas. What do you want?"

"I want a table full of delicious food. Made by you."

I didn't actually expect him to cook. It was just my deep-seated insecurity acting up.

I always felt so ordinary, so unworthy of him. I constantly looked for proof that he didn't love me just so I could prepare myself for the inevitable heartbreak.

He didn't say anything at the time. I knew cooking was hard for him.

He was used to a pampered lifestyle. With a house full of maids and private chefs, he didn't even know where the grocery store was.

Sure enough, on Christmas Day, he vanished.

I couldn't reach him anywhere. Just as I was moping in my dorm room, my roommate yelled that Ethan was waiting downstairs.

Though I was a bit annoyed, I went down.

A stretched Lincoln limousine was waiting at the curb.

"Miss Jasmine, Mr. Vance requested that I escort you to a special location."

Confused, I got in.

When I arrived at the destination, I was shocked to see him standing at the entrance.

He looked like a prince waiting for his princess.

"Merry Christmas, Miss Jasmine. Please, follow me."

He led me to a beautifully set table.

A feast of nine dishes and one soup caught my eye.

As he proudly introduced each dish, I noticed his hands were covered in tiny, painful-looking blisters.

My heart ached with guilt. I had no idea he would take my random, selfish request so seriously. I felt so incredibly foolish.

Even though my heart was breaking for him, I scolded him to hide my tears.

"Ethan! Why did you do this to yourself without my permission? Nobody is allowed to hurt you, not even yourself!"

I knew how deep and fierce his love was. But I felt I didn't deserve it.

He had just laughed, kissing my forehead gently.

"Baby, this is how I show my love. How could it be hurtful?"

He told me he had spent days watching cooking tutorials and practicing every night.

I always knew he was brilliant, but I didn't expect him to learn so fast.

To show my appreciation, I cleaned out every single plate.

It had been so long since I had a home-cooked meal. I could still taste it to this day.

Maybe the memory was too beautiful, because I found myself smiling in my sleep.

Through the haze of my dream, I heard someone calling my name.

"Jasmine."

It was Ethan's voice.

I smiled, whispering back, "Ethan... I miss you. I miss your cooking."