Chapter 13 — Hello, World
Sunlight slipped through the gaps in the blinds and fell across Ethan's face.
He opened his eyes slowly, his mind still foggy.
He'd slept a full three hours—long enough for every leftover emotion to be rinsed clean, leaving behind only a pleasantly blank calm.
He rolled over and stretched, letting his body unfold in the warmth of the light.
A long-missed sense of looseness spread through him like warm water, flowing gently through every muscle.
The soreness in his lower back from yesterday's… overexertion was gone, replaced by a clean, bright comfort—like his whole body had finally reset.
It was the kind of satisfaction only real release and deep rest could give: the body rewarding the mind with a quiet elevation.
Ethan narrowed his eyes, smiling faintly.
"Yeah… a man really can't suppress things for too long," he thought. "You need a healthy outlet once in a while."
He pulled open the curtains.
The sunlight was sharp, almost blinding.
Shaking his head, he headed into the bathroom.
In the mirror, his hair was a little messy—but his eyes were bright.
He rubbed the back of his neck, checking his condition like a professional.
"Not bad," he murmured. "Solid form."
Hot water poured over him, foam sliding down his shoulders, and he felt like he'd been rebooted from scratch.
As his thoughts cleared, his brain automatically shifted into finance mode.
The $100,000 check had already been deposited yesterday.
After paying Mary's wages, the pharmacy debt, the electric bill, and the floor repair costs…
he still had a little over eighty thousand left in the account.
"Enough to cover the loan payments for six months," Ethan muttered. "Ever since I took out that loan to buy the building… I finally feel a little less broke."
With money in hand for once, Ethan decided it was time to deal with the shopping list he'd been putting off forever.
He left the apartment.
It was 1 p.m.—perfect sunshine, crisp and bright.
List in hand, Ethan moved with a clear target and frightening efficiency.
The familiar stores he always visited made quick work of it, and before long he felt like a brand-new man.
First came the basics: toothpaste, shaving foam, coffee beans, laundry detergent… and a few new shirts.
Then came the sports section.
Those worn-down running shoes—so thin at the soles they practically had no dignity left—could finally retire.
He picked up a new workout set and two pairs of the latest running shoes:
one for training,
one for everyday commuting.
When he reached Fifth Avenue, something caught his attention.
A crowd had gathered.
A long line stretched down the block, almost wrapping the entire street corner.
In the display window, a brand-new device was looping advertisements on repeat.
"Today, Apple is going to reinvent the phone."
On the screen, one familiar face after another appeared—
Dustin Hoffman.
Marilyn Monroe.
Tom Cruise.
Each of them held a phone and said the same word:
"Hello."
Black-and-white and color footage intercut rapidly. Old telephone rings layered over one another. Then a hand lifted a device no one had ever seen before — a glass phone.
The screen lit up.
Only one word appeared:
Hello.
The frame froze.
A voiceover followed:
"Apple reinvents the phone."
Ethan stared at the ad for a few seconds, then laughed softly.
"So this is the year, huh? One 'Hello' — six hundred dollars. Jobs really was a genius."
He looked at the line curling around the entrance. After only a moment's hesitation, he walked straight over.
An hour later, he came out carrying two boxes.
Two first-generation iPhones.
One for daily use.
One to keep as a collectible.
"Let's save a piece of the future."
---
At the electronics store, Ethan picked up several essentials for the clinic:
an air conditioner, a sterilization cabinet, a microwave, and a new coffee machine.
At checkout, Caroline's earlier complaint resurfaced in his mind:
"Our apartment is hotter than an oven."
Ethan smiled.
He added one more item — a compact AC unit.
For the shipping address, he didn't leave his name.
Just their apartment address and phone number.
---
After dinner, Ethan brewed a cup of coffee and was about to enjoy a long-neglected gaming session when his phone rang.
The new iPhone screen lit up.
Max.
"Doctor."
Her voice carried that familiar mix of lazy drawl and sharp edge.
"Did you secretly do something stupidly thoughtful?"
Ethan leaned back in his chair, a smile tugging at his lips.
"You'll have to be more specific. I've done a lot of stupid things lately."
"An AC installer just called," Max said slowly.
"Said someone ordered a split air conditioner for our apartment. Left my name.
At first I thought God finally learned charity.
Then I remembered — God only sends me bills.
In all of New York, you're the only one who'd send me air conditioning."
Ethan chuckled.
"Maybe you called God's name too many times last night. He got moved."
"I don't know about God," Max snorted, then couldn't help laughing, "but I know you were definitely moved."
A pause. Softer now.
"Still… thank you. Caroline practically hit the jackpot when she heard. She says she won't have to sleep in an oven anymore."
Ethan traced a finger along the rim of his mug.
"Good. I was actually worried about your oven losing its job. At your place's temperature, you could bake cakes without it."
"Hey…" Max sighed, her tone unusually gentle.
"Thanks, Ethan. Really."
He hesitated, then asked quietly:
"So… can I take that as you forgiving me?"
"Oh, don't get cocky, Doctor," she shot back instantly. "I've just decided not to poison your cake anymore."
They both laughed.
After a brief silence, her voice softened again.
"If you're ever bored, come by the diner. I'll buy you cake. Caroline says she'll cover coffee."
"That's a tempting offer."
"Don't get ideas," she laughed. Then added, more quietly,
"But… seriously. You're always welcome."
Ethan's smile turned warm.
"Deal. And if you or Caroline ever feel sick — or sore — come to the clinic anytime. Fully equipped, professionally reliable… and most importantly, free."
"Oh, trust me," Max drawled, "I'm very good at feeling 'unwell' in multiple areas."
"Guess I'll stock up on massage oil. Maybe some butter too."
A beat of silence — then Max's sharp, quick laughter.
"Okay, Doctor. Looks like we can talk normally again."
"Yeah." Ethan looked out at the city lights. "Back to human communication."
"Let's keep it that way," she said, "at least until you do your next dumb thing."
"You should prepare yourself," Ethan said calmly, lifting his coffee. "I have unlimited dumb potential."
"I'll be watching, Doctor."
A soft laugh.
Then the call ended.
Ethan lowered the phone and leaned back.
Smiling faintly.
"Guess this counts as making peace with the past."