A photo of him receiving an IV drip at the hospital, captioned: [Veronica, don’t worry about me. It’s my fault.]
A selfie in front of the university teaching building, captioned: [Youth that can’t be returned, people I can’t forget.]
I forwarded the screenshots directly to Veronica.
She dialed Yohan’s number and roared into the phone, “Yohan, I’m warning you to stay away from William or don’t blame me for not showing any mercy.”
A tearful voice came from the other end of the line, “But Veronica, I’ve loved you for eight years. I can’t live without you.”
Veronica hung up, her face darkening.
The next day, Yohan’s public warning was posted on the institute’s bulletin board. His eligibility for professional title evaluation was revoked and he was transferred away from the core project.
I knew this was Veronica’s doing. She wanted to use this method to demonstrate her resolve toward me.
But that very afternoon, Yohan burst into my office, weeping.
“William! Are you satisfied? Not only did you use marriage to blackmail my senior, now you’re ruining my career!”
He lunged at me. I slapped him across the face.
“You seduced a married woman, destroyed someone’s family and you still have the nerve to argue with me?”
Veronica rushed over, shielding me in her arms as she glared coldly at Yohan. But he grew bolder and lunged forward.
He lightly kissed Veronica’s lips. My mind went blank.
Then I heard him say, “Veronica, I’m the famous campus heartthrob. So many people are after me, I don’t believe you have no feelings for me at all!”
Just as I was about to slap him again, Veronica stopped me.
After a few stunned seconds, she finally spoke, her voice tight.
“You don’t deserve me.”
“William has been with me from nothing to something for so many years, I won’t betray him.”
Then she grabbed the pen holder and hurled it at him.
Yohan didn’t dodge. He stood silent, letting blood trickle down his temple.
“This is the price you pay for messing with William.”
She dropped the cold warning, then pulled me out of the office. But the moment we stepped outside, Veronica instantly let go of me.
Turning her back to me, she lit a cigarette.
“William, you go back first. I’ll be working overtime at the hospital later.”
My words caught in my throat.
Finally, I managed only a strained, “Mm, okay.”
That night, Veronica closed her eyes and straddled me willingly.
After it ended, she murmured in her sleep, “Yohan.”
My body stiffened and I wrenched myself free from her embrace. I looked at the woman whose beauty hadn’t faded in ten years.
I recalled how she stood up for me when I was bullied, her forehead stitched with thirty-three stitches. I remembered how she risked half her life to save me on the snowy mountain.
I remembered how, at my single mention of feeling unwell, she abandoned an international conference, flew halfway across the globe and cooked me nourishing soup.
Veronica’s kindness was etched vividly in my memory. Yet now, she herself remained unaware that her heart no longer belonged to me.
I stared at the ceiling until dawn. Then I sent a message to the president of the National Academy of Sciences.
[Ms. Barkworth, I accept your invitation. I will join the Sky Dome Project team in one month.]
After that day, Veronica and I shared an unspoken understanding. Our daily interactions gradually decreased.
Until the academy held its annual commendation ceremony.
Veronica and I were invited onstage as the “Model Researcher Couple.” Everyone praised us as a perfect match made in heaven.
Suddenly, a young woman rushed onto the stage and slapped Veronica across the face.
“Veronica! You two-faced bitch! If you don’t love Yohan, why give her hope?”
