The rain had stopped by morning, but the world still looked bruised — gray skies hanging low, the air heavy with silence. Meilin sat by the window, her fingers tracing circles on the glass. Her eyes were swollen from crying, yet her heart refused to rest.
Last night's storm still echoed inside her. Jiang Rui hadn't spoken to her since. He'd left before dawn, his note short and cold: "I need time."
Time. That word cut deeper than any blade. Because time was exactly what she no longer had — not with Li Wen back in her life, not with the truth buried between them like a ticking bomb.
Her phone buzzed.
Li Wen: Meet me at the old greenhouse. One last time.
Her hand trembled. The greenhouse — the same place where her life had once changed forever, where she had once promised to never look back.
She closed her eyes, whispering to herself, "I'll end this. For good."
---
The greenhouse stood abandoned at the edge of the garden, covered in vines and dust. The air inside was damp, smelling of wilted petals and forgotten seasons.
Li Wen stood by the cracked glass wall, his expression unreadable. Time had changed him, but his smile — that dangerous, familiar smile — remained.
"You came," he said softly.
Meilin kept her distance. "Only to say goodbye."
He chuckled. "You've said that before."
"I mean it this time," she said. "Whatever we had — it was built on lies. And I won't lose Rui because of you."
His smile faded. "You think he still wants you? After what you've done?"
Her voice shook, but she didn't back down. "I don't care if he never forgives me. But I won't let you control me anymore."
Li Wen took a step closer, eyes burning. "You owe me, Meilin. You think you can erase the past? You wouldn't even be here without me."
"I know," she whispered. "And that's why I have to let you go."
He stared at her, then laughed bitterly. "You really think walking away makes you free?"
"Not free," she said quietly. "But clean."
For a moment, their eyes locked — memories, pain, betrayal, all tangled in silence. Then Meilin turned and walked out into the cold light of morning.
The sound of her footsteps echoed through the garden, each one lighter than the last.
As she reached the gate, her phone rang again. A message from Jiang Rui.
Rui: We need to talk. Come home.
She stopped, breath catching in her throat. For the first time in years,
hope flickered inside her — fragile but real.