Chapter 1

Miranda walked ahead of Paul. She had clearly regained her composure and wasn't as nervous as the night before. Paul pulled up in his car, and Miranda got into the passenger seat. On the way, they passed a fruit store.

Miranda suddenly asked, "Could you pull over here? I need a minute. I'd like to get some fruit."

"Fruit?"

"Yes. For Dr. Young."

Holding the steering wheel, Paul asked, confused, "Is that necessary?"

Miranda was puzzled. Amusement flickered in her eyes as she replied, "Do you usually visit someone empty-handed?"

Paul nodded honestly.

Miranda was amazed. Perhaps that was how it was with important people—such trivial things didn't bother them. Nonetheless, Paul pulled over.

Christine lived on Monte Road, near Bedford College. Small bungalows, each with a private entrance, lined the street. Their designs incorporated a fusion of architectural elements, showcasing cultural richness despite their simple appearance.

After passing through a maple forest, Miranda and Paul saw Christine's house.

Six years

Miranda tightened her grip on her seatbelt. Staring at the fruit basket at her feet, she suddenly cowered.

Paul sensed her distress. "Aren't you getting out?"

Miranda bit her lip. "I need a second."

Paul stared at her for a moment, then nodded. "I'll go ahead then."

Miranda appreciated his lack of probing. As she watched him leave, she took a few deep breaths, unbuckled her seatbelt, and got out of the car. Flowers were in full bloom, their scent faint but pleasant. Near the fence, limp, lifeless vegetables grew in a neglected patch, likely unattended since their planter had fallen ill.

Before entering the house, Miranda heard Christine's voice. Her heart fluttered, and she quickly approached Paul.

"Dr. Young."

Christine put down the latest issue of the Journal of Biology and adjusted her glasses. "Hm? Paul? Why have you come?"

Paul stepped forward to help her up. They walked further into the house. "I'm here to visit you. Are you feeling better?"

"It's nothing serious. You shouldn't have bothered coming." She patted his hand. "Thanks for your concern, but I'm fine."

Paul paused. "I brought someone else today."

"Who could that be?" Christine looked puzzled.

She followed his gaze and saw Miranda at the entrance. Miranda hung her head, looking meek.

Christine's eyes widened, but mixed emotions and a deliberate aloofness quickly replaced her surprise.

"Why are you here?" she asked, her face serious.

"Dr. Young" Miranda felt helpless.

Emotionless, Christine demanded sternly, "I remember someone declaring boldly she was going after her true love all those years ago. You put everything aside for love. What are you here for?"

Tears rolled down Miranda's cheeks. "Dr. Young I'm sorry for disappointing you."

"And?" Christine's solemnity was unusual.

"And I was wrong." A pause. "Is it too late now?"

"Finally" Christine sighed, her face softening. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for you? Six years. Six whole years."

Tears welled up in Miranda's eyes. "I—I didn't know" Had Christine been waiting for her all along?

"I'm glad you've finally come to your senses." But Christine knew the heartbreak and hardship Miranda must have endured. She felt sorry for her.

Overwhelmed, Miranda threw herself at Christine. "Dr. Young"