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墨書 Inktalez
I can explain.
These five words were like a stone thrown into the surface of a lake, stirring up countless waves in my heart.
Explain?
After three years, was he finally going to give me an explanation?
I clutched my phone, my fingertips icy cold, momentarily unsure of how to react.
On the other end of the line, Ran seemed to be waiting for my response, with only our shallow breaths intertwining in the night breeze.
“...You speak,” I finally found my voice after a long pause, trying to keep it calm.
He was silent for a few seconds before slowly beginning to speak.
“On the day of the Graduation Show, I did plan to go.”
“I had already bought the plane ticket, flying directly from Milan back home.”
At that time, he had received an offer from a top modeling agency in Milan and had gone ahead to handle some contract matters.
We had agreed that he would fly back immediately after finishing up to attend my Graduation Show.
It was my first show, and it was important for him too.
At least, that’s what I thought at the time.
“But,” his voice lowered, “the day before takeoff, I received a call from home.”
“My sister was diagnosed with acute leukemia at school; her condition was critical and required an immediate bone marrow transplant.”
My heart sank.
His sister?
I remembered he had a younger sister named Lu Xingyao, a very cute little girl whom we used to play with when we were kids.
She… had leukemia?
“I was the only one in the family who matched,” Ran's voice carried a hint of barely perceptible fatigue. “The surgery was scheduled for the day of the Graduation Show.”
My mind buzzed as if something had struck me hard.
So that’s how it was?
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to come.
It wasn’t that he didn’t care.
But because… he had to save his sister’s life?
This reason weighed heavily on me, leaving me unable to argue or even feel angry.
Compared to a living life, what was a show worth?
"Why..." My voice trembled a little, "Why didn't you tell me?" If he had told me at that time, I would never blame him. I would worry about him and his sister, and I would let him go for the surgery with peace of mind. "I tried." He said, "I called you many times, but I couldn't get through." I was stunned. Can't get through? How could it be... I suddenly remembered that in the days before the Graduation Show, I was so busy that my phone was often either silent or out of battery, or I simply left it in the studio and forgot to bring it with me... Could it be... I really missed his call? "Later, the operation was successful." Ran continued, without much emotion in his tone, "Yaoyao recovered very well." "When I finished dealing with family matters and wanted to contact you again..." He paused. I knew what he wanted to say. At that time, I had blocked him. All contact methods, WeChat, phone, QQ... were all blocked. I thought he betrayed me, chose his bright future, and abandoned me, a "burden". I was immersed in my own resentment and pain, refusing to receive any news about him. It turns out... the truth is like this. Such a ridiculous truth, but I am powerless to refute it. The grudges I have been carrying for the past three years, the resentment and resentment in the middle of the night, all seem so ridiculous at this moment. I am like a self-righteous fool, living in a tragic script that I imagined, and acting so devotedly. "I'm sorry." I said, my voice was very soft, with a strong nasal tone. This sorry is not only for him, but also for my obsession in the past three years. There was silence on the other end of the phone. After a long time, he sighed softly. "I should be the one to say sorry." "At that time... I didn't handle it well." Yes, it was indeed not handled well.
He could have contacted me through other means, like our mutual friends or my family...
But he didn't.
He chose silence.
Perhaps it was youthful arrogance, perhaps pride, or maybe... he felt that explanations were pointless.
After all, I had already condemned him unilaterally.
Between us lay misunderstandings, time, and a vast distance, and ultimately, we drifted further apart.
Until today, in Paris, we reunited in such a dramatic way.
The night breeze swept by, carrying a chill.
I tightened my coat around me but felt no warmth at all.
My heart felt hollow, as if a piece had been excavated.
The hatred that had sustained me for three years suddenly vanished.
In its place was an indescribable sense of confusion and... fatigue.
“Ran,” I spoke up, my voice slightly hoarse, “what happened back then is in the past.”
Whether it was his fault or mine, it was all behind us now.
Pursuing who was right or wrong no longer mattered.
We were no longer the people we were three years ago.
Time had changed too many things.
“Mm,” he replied softly, his voice low.
We fell into silence again.
This silence was no longer filled with awkwardness and estrangement but carried a sense of... calm after the dust had settled, along with a hint of barely perceptible... melancholy.
“It’s late,” I broke the silence, “you should get some rest; tomorrow...”
Tomorrow, there would be a tough battle to fight.
“Okay,” he said, “you too.”
I prepared to hang up the phone.
“Xia Wan,” he called out to me again.
“Hmm?”
“That suit,” he said, “I really liked it.”
My heart skipped a beat unexpectedly.
Without waiting for my response, he hung up the phone.
I stared at the darkening screen of my phone, standing on the streets of Paris at midnight, unable to move for a long time. The wind blew through my hair, making my eyes a bit blurry. I raised my hand to rub them.
It felt like… something wet was there. Was it a tear? How long had it been since I last cried? I couldn’t remember. It seemed that ever since that failed Graduation Show three years ago, I hadn’t shed a single tear.
I always thought I hated him. Hated his betrayal, hated his ruthlessness. But now, as all the misunderstandings unraveled, I realized that beneath the hatred lay a deep… unresolved sorrow.
I sniffed and hailed a taxi. After giving the name of my hotel, I leaned back in the backseat and closed my eyes. My mind was a chaotic mess; one moment I could hear Ran’s low voice from the phone call, the next I saw his sister’s pale face, and then there was the image of myself three years ago, helpless and on the verge of breaking down backstage…
The taxi drove quietly through the streets. The streetlights flickered by outside, casting shadows that danced across my face. I took out my phone and unlocked the screen.
I looked at the number I had just spoken to. Almost instinctively, I clicked to add a contact. In the name field, I hesitated for a long time. Finally, I typed in two characters: Ran. Then, I pressed the save button.
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