Chapter 16

“I don’t want to—” Ingrid shook her head, rising onto her tiptoes and blushing. “I want to be with you a while longer.”

Before she could lean closer, Hansel pulled her close, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her fiercely.

The onlookers gasped, and another uproar followed.

“Holy shit, that’s cool!”

“Oh, dear, he must love her a lot!”

Miranda watched, her knuckles whitening as she gripped her books. Her heart still ached for him, but outwardly, she remained calm, as if feeling nothing. She thought she would eventually get used to it—withdrawal symptoms were to be expected after six years of loving someone, much like quitting smoking.

She didn't stay long, turning and leaving to study.

In the crowd, Hansel sensed something and turned. A vaguely familiar figure flitted past. But the next moment, Ingrid took his hand, intertwining their fingers. “What are you looking at?” she asked.

Hansel withdrew his gaze. “Nothing.”

Escorting Ingrid to her dorm, he was about to leave when she grabbed his hand, reluctant to let go. “It’s still early. Can’t you stay a little longer?”

Hansel stroked her head. “Be good. I’ll pick you up this weekend.”

He stood with his back to a streetlamp. Shadows deepened his already chiseled features.

Ingrid gazed at him flirtatiously. “Hans, may I… come to your house tonight?”

The implication was clear to any adult.

Stunned, Hansel felt conflicted. “You’re still young. Let’s wait.”

Ingrid was surprised but secretly gleeful. His reluctance to be intimate meant he cherished her, valuing their relationship over physical pleasure.

“Alright, I’ll be going. I have things to attend to,” Hansel said, checking his watch.

Ingrid nodded obediently. “Sure. Remember to go to bed early. I’ll bring you pumpkin soup tomorrow.”

Hansel said nothing, staring blankly ahead.

In her room, Miranda typed slowly on her laptop, the image of Hansel and Ingrid kissing flashing in her mind. She pursed her lips.

She went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, clearing the fog in her mind. Hansel was history; her priority was preparing for exams. Time was running out.

Returning to her laptop, she examined the materials Christine had given her: a bioinformatics textbook, Christine's notes, and a USB drive containing the thesis Miranda had abandoned halfway through her postgraduate studies.

She had once stayed up three days straight in the lab, foregoing food and sleep, to complete it. Gathering data had taken half a year, and she’d meticulously worked toward proving her theory. She’d even given up on a combined Master’s and Doctorate program to care for Hansel. Yet, she hadn't forgotten her thesis.

For years, she'd focused on two things: being Hansel's unpaid housewife and finishing her thesis. Christine's materials contained the undergraduate portion; Miranda opened the latter half on her laptop, combining both to complete the work.