I had intended to leave without a word, to truly vanish like the wind, the way I had always done. Yet because of that gnawing guilt, because two years had woven between us a fragile thread of connection, I couldn't bring myself to do it.
That evening, I prepared a lavish dinner and waited for Xin to return. My head swirled with thoughts, my heart heavy with unspoken words.
But when his face appeared in the doorway — radiant like the first light of dawn — all the words that had gathered on the tip of my tongue lodged in my throat, bitter as burnt ash.
He beamed as he shared the news: the game project he had poured his heart into had been accepted by a well-known game company. He was going to quit working at the nightclub and start there as a full-time employee the following month.
"Finally, I can give you a better life."
Fool. From the moment I chose this path at eighteen, the words better life ceased to exist in my world.
