Celeste picked up a towel, her hand hovering in midair.
After a moment, she lowered it, her expression empty.
Overnight, I lost everything.
They sent me to an infectious disease hospital on the outskirts of the city.
On New Year’s Eve, my fever refused to break. I begged the doctor for medicine.
He glanced at me coldly.
“The chairman gave instructions not to pamper you,” he said. “A fever might do you some good.”
I escaped the hospital and ran all the way to the Golding family’s gates, collapsing to my knees in the snow.
Celeste never appeared.
Philip came out instead. He looked down at me, shook his head lightly, and turned back inside without a word.
Moments later, a servant emerged carrying a trash bin and dumped its foul-smelling contents over me, from head to toe.
“Where did this filthy thing come from? Get lost!”
My fever had climbed to nearly 104°F.
In the dead of night, the riverbank lay pitch-black, the water below surging violently.
From somewhere behind me came frantic shouts from the hospital.
“There’s someone over there!”
I did not hesitate.
I hurled myself into the icy river.
In that instant, Nathan Golding, the second son of the Goldings, truly died.
After that, I drifted through the world like a ghost.
I slept under bridges, scavenged leftovers, and endured countless cold, contemptuous stares.
Later, I found work on construction sites, hauling cement day after day. Steel bars bent my back inch by inch, until I finally scraped together enough money to buy a battered old car.
By day, I worked as a designated driver.
By night, I kneaded dough and chopped fillings. Flour and grime stayed permanently lodged beneath my fingernails, no matter how hard I scrubbed.
Still, life slowly began to regain a trace of warmth.
That was when Luis appeared.
One day, the young man stood awkwardly at the shop door, scratching the back of his head. His smile was shy but hopeful.
“Boss, I’m strong. I can work hard,” he said earnestly. “People back home say I’m useless. I just want to make something of myself in the city. Could you give me a job?”
The tide of memories gradually receded.
I put the box away and prepared to head out for my next driving shift.
But just as I pushed open the shop door, I froze.
A figure stood in the pale morning mist.
She cradled her pregnant belly as she walked toward me, one careful step at a time. As the light grew stronger, her face came clearly into view.
It was Celeste.
The shop instantly filled with that familiar, high-end perfume.
Once, I had taught her which scent to wear for which occasion.
Now, she used them with flawless precision.
Her gaze swept across the counter and landed on the open box. She stopped short, her eyes slowly reddening.
Without a word, I walked over, picked up the box, and tossed it into the nearby trash can.
“Nathan,” she said, stepping closer. Her voice was soft and hesitant. “These past years… how have you been? We all thought you…”
Luis recognized her from television and froze in place, his mouth hanging open.
My voice was flat and distant. “I’m dead. Isn’t that exactly what you all wanted?”
She fell silent. After a moment, tears shimmered in her eyes.
Then she spoke again, carefully, as if afraid of breaking something fragile. “There’s something very important I need to tell you.”
