He never made it. A truck slammed into us. The
crushing pain, the sickening crunch of metal,
the world turning upside down… it was
excruciating. But after the initial agony, a
strange sense of… peace settled over me.
Before I lost consciousness, I heard Josh
weakly whisper my name. “Ashley…” Then
came his plea, the one I’d heard before, about
not ruining his chance with Sarah.
I woke up at the beginning of junior year.
<
I didn’t know what to make of Josh’s relieved
“That’s good” and his recurring dream. But it
didn’t matter.
I saw Josh again the day his mom was
discharged. My mom asked me to deliver some
homemade soup. I stayed and chatted with his
mom, listening to her reminisce about the past.
She pulled out old photo albums, pointing to a
picture of Josh and me, grinning after winning
some middle school competition.
“Time flies, doesn’t it? Your mom and I shared
a hospital room when we were pregnant. You
were born just a day after Josh. And now, look
at you, all grown up.” She chuckled. “Your dad
was so smitten with you. He’d hold you, and
you’d just smile, so quiet and content. Then, as
you got older, you and Josh were inseparable.
We all thought you’d end up together.”
I offered a polite smile. “That was a long time
ago. Just kid stuff.”
<
She patted my hand, sighing. “Josh wasn’t
lucky enough. Now the gap between you two
is… well, he doesn’t deserve you anymore.”
I chuckled, intending to correct her. “There’s no
‘deserving‘ someone. It’s about finding
someone who’s on the same path as you.”
She seemed to misinterpret my meaning. “I
heard Josh is studying for his graduate school
entrance exams. He’s aiming for the same
university he wanted before, the one in your
city. Maybe then…”
I gently interrupted her. “I’m going abroad for
my PhD.” I paused, then added, “And I have a
boyfriend. I haven’t told my parents yet.”
Josh walked in, heading for the kitchen to wash
his hands. We were sitting in the living room. I
didn’t know if he’d heard me, but he stood
there, his back to us, motionless. The air
く
His mom, perhaps trying to lighten the mood,
asked about my boyfriend. I smiled, describing
how we met. He was a classmate from my
competition team – kind, driven, disciplined. He
was on track for a combined MD–PhD program,
won national scholarships every year, excelled
in every competition he entered. He also
practiced calligraphy, played chess, and could
drum. I showed her a picture of him giving a
presentation at an academic forum.
“He’s someone I admire very much,” I said.
“He’s my fellow traveler.”
The conversation ended there.
On the way home, I remembered seeing Josh’s
bare arms as he washed his hands. A faint scar
remained where the tattoo had been. It was like
a scene from another life. The name scribbled
and erased on his scrap paper, the beginning of
their story. The faded tattoo, the end. The rush
of first love had finally receded.
>
My entanglement with Josh was finally over. I’d
been so curious about his fate, about how he’d
navigate a world filled with competition, how his
family would support his renewed ambition
after investing so much in his previous path. I’ll
admit, a part of me wanted to see him struggle,
to validate my past actions.
But I knew I was wrong.
There’s a line in Dickens‘ The Mystery of Edwin
Drood: “The best sort of politeness is to let
other people alone.”
Once you interfere, you bear the responsibility.
This time, I stayed in my lane. I didn’t meddle in
Josh’s choices. In the previous life, he regretted
not being with Sarah. I wondered if, in this life,
he’d regret those twenty–one unanswered
questions. But the strange thing about fate is
that there’s no perfect choice. Every path leads
<
I was no longer interested in Josh’s fate. Life
was too short. Whether he clawed his way back
to the top or faded into obscurity… it no longer concerned me. I stopped looking back and kept
moving forward.
My three years abroad were spent in a long- distance relationship. Chloe called one day, teasing, “Ashley, three years! Aren’t you worried
about your relationship fizzling out?”
I was juggling deadlines, but my voice was
calm. “We may not be in the same place, but
we’re striving for the same goals. Our souls are
only growing closer.”
She made a suggestive sound, then shifted the
topic. “Remember Sarah Miller? Some
millionaire fell for her, showered her with gifts.
Their wedding was extravagant, all the old
classmates were there, everyone was so
envious. Too bad…”
く
100
Too bad, within two years, the millionaire found
a new, younger, prettier girl. He pursued her
with the same fervor, the same lavish gifts.
Sarah, devastated and humiliated, made a
scene, but the millionaire simply filed for divorce. She refused to sign the papers. They were still locked in a bitter battle.
Chloe, sensing my lack of interest, dropped the subject. “Josh failed his graduate school entrance exams. Twice. Missed the cut–off by 0.1 points both times. Talk about bad luck.”
I finally finished my work, letting out a long breath. “Oh well. Good luck to him.”
Not long after, I received a deleted message. From Josh. I didn’t ask about it. When I finally
returned home, a friend threw a welcome–back
party. Josh was there. He asked if I’d seen the
message.
I shook my head, lying. “I was asleep.”
<
He gave a wry smile. “Just a silly dream. I
thought it was real. Glad I didn’t wake you.”
I maintained a polite smile, aware of the flimsy
lie. It was daytime where I was when he sent
the message.
But it didn’t matter. Just like the deleted
message – “Ashley, did you ever like me?” the answer didn’t matter anymore.
–
What mattered was that I was on my own path now, moving forward, with the person I loved
walking beside me.
I watched Josh turn and walk away, his figure
thin and lonely. My boyfriend walked up, holding
a small cake, and asked quietly, “Who was
that?”
I took his arm, dismissing Josh with a smile.
“Just an old friend from childhood.”
(The End)
