Feather Drifting in the Wind

After Caesar Shepherd went overseas with his lover, Florence Lane, about a month passed with no news about Ivy Rivers.

Only then did Caesar realize something was wrong.

When he had time, he gave his secretary, Morgan, a call. "How's the wound on Ivy's leg? Is she still angry at me for taking her skin for Florence's skin graft?"

The opposite side of the line was quiet for a long time. Then, Morgan said softly, "Ms. Rivers was discharged from the hospital and left the residence a month ago."

Caesar finally remembered Ivy's eyes full of despair and determination on the day he protected Florence in his arms when the hotel collapsed.

That wasn't sorrow.

No.

That was goodbye.

In her tenth year under Caesar's sponsorship, Ivy got a job offer from an overseas company based in Weissland.

Her friends' voices still rang in her ears, the chatter full of disbelief as they tried to change her mind.

"Ivy, are you serious? You'll leave as soon as your visa is ready? Why?"

"Yeah, why? Mr. Shepherd treats you so well. It's been ten years! He's so attentive to your every need!"

"We all saw those ninety-nine proposals! They were unbelievably romantic! You never said yes, but Mr. Shepherd never gave up! If that's not true love, what is?"

"Is it because of Florence? Come on, she's just a new girl Mr. Shepherd's sponsoring. I heard her background is pretty tragic. He's just being nice. How could she possibly compare to you?"

"That's right, Ivy, don't be stupid. That's a decade worth of love! Mr. Shepherd cares about you so much! There's no way some clueless young woman could change that."

Love?

Ivy raised her eyes, looking past her chattering friends to the street across from them.

A familiar black car eased to the curb.

The man behind the wheel leaned over and tucked a strand of hair behind the young woman's ear, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Caesar Shepherd.

Florence sat beside him, looking at him with a smile, her eyes crinkling. From that perspective, she really did look like Ivy when she was at that age.

Caesar wore a relaxed, almost indulgent smile; one Ivy hadn't seen in a long time. When he looked at her lately, there was more exhaustion and impatience than anything else.

Her friends noticed too as they looked in the direction she was watching. Their voices faded, and the air at the table turned awkward.

"Maybe it's just a coincidence."

"Mr. Shepherd, he..."

Ivy looked away without an expression on her face. She took a sip of coffee and let the bitterness spread across her tongue.

"I'm a bit tired," she interrupted them. "I'll head home for now. I've already decided to go abroad."

She stood up and picked up her purse, forcing a faint smile. Before they could add another word, she left.

The afternoon breeze was warm, but it felt cold against her skin.

A decade…

She still remembered the day Caesar took her out of that run-down, moldy place she once called home. She had curled into a corner, barely daring to lift her head.

He taught her manners with endless patience, showed her prosperity, and gave her the best of everything. He spoiled her to the point she felt like a princess, almost forgetting who she had been.

Each of those ninety-nine proposals was grand and meticulously planned, like straight out of every girl's dream.

It wasn't that she felt nothing. She just never stopped feeling uneasy, like this happiness was a fragile dream. She told herself to wait, to become worthy of him, to make sure their love became indestructible.

When did it start to change?

It might have been a year ago, when he brought Florence home. He had ruffled Florence's hair and said half-jokingly, "Ivy, look! I found your little substitute. Funny, right?"

Or was it the first time Florence broke her music box on purpose? Ivy got angry, and Caesar frowned at her instead.

"Ivy, she's just a kid. She doesn't know any better. Let it go. It's just an old music box. If it's broken, I'll buy you a better one."

Or was it the times Ivy caught unfamiliar perfume on his shirt and saw ambiguous messages on his phone?

He never explained it. He just tried to buy her off with expensive gifts, then snapped out of irritation.

"Can you be reasonable once? I'm tired. I don't have the energy to comfort you every day."

Or was it during the ninety-ninth proposal, when he held her hand, but his eyes seemed far away under the stars?

"Ivy, it'll be a hundred soon. You'll say yes then, right?"

But the hundredth never came.

Instead, one night after he drank too much, he slung an arm around her and laughed. His tone had been dismissive and cruel.

"Ivy, I'll be honest with you. Even the best dishes will get boring after ten years. Just listen to me and wait. Once I'm done with this fresh experience, then we'll get married."

Boring.

The word drove straight into her chest.

Her last hope was shattered on her twenty-fifth birthday, a week ago.

Ivy had waited all night, but he never showed up.

All she got was a set of blurry photos from an unknown sender. Outside a hotel, Caesar had an arm around Florence's waist as they walked in together, too close to be mistaken.

For the first time in ten years, Caesar missed her birthday.

In that moment, something in her broke for good.

Ivy stopped. She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.

She looked up through the leaves. The sky was so high, so blue.

She pulled out her phone, opened the email with the offer from the overseas company, and typed a single word in the reply box.

"Received."

It's time for her to wake up from this decade-long dream.