In the orange-yellow glow, Nina stood center stage in a sleek evening dress, the room around her undoubtedly warm and airtight.
"Can you hear me now? Are you okay?"
In a haze, I heard a man’s unfamiliar voice, distant yet urgent. Struggling to open my eyes, the searing orange light blurred my vision. A shadowy figure extended a hand toward me.
"Am I… dead? Have you come to take me?" I muttered, frozen and delirious, unable to comprehend that the figures before me weren’t specters but the rescue team.
I had been saved.
Inside the rescue vehicle, warmth slowly returned to my body as I regained consciousness. My mind cleared, though my limbs still felt heavy with exhaustion.
"What were you doing out there alone in the middle of the wilderness?" One of the rescuers scolded, his tone sharp with concern. "Don’t you know how dangerous these mountains are? It’s almost impossible to get out on your own."
I nodded weakly, their words cutting deeper because I already knew the truth. The dangers of this mountain weren’t lost on me, but Cyrus had insisted on coming.
"The summit has the perfect vantage point for shooting the sunrise. If I can capture it, I’ll definitely win the photography competition!" he'd said with unwavering determination.
"I know you’re the best—you’ll nail it," I had replied, agreeing without hesitation.
The mountain’s treacherous terrain deterred most photographers, which only fueled Cyrus' resolve. I knew his temperament too well; stubborn like his brother. Once he set his mind on something, there was no stopping him.
So I followed him without protest, carrying his gear and trailing closely as he led the way.
By the time we reached the summit at eight in the evening, the darkness was thick.
We sat on the cold, hard ground as Cyrus draped an arm around my shoulders.
"Ceremonies and long queues are so dull. Let’s celebrate our anniversary here instead," he said with a carefree smile.
On the exposed mountaintop, with a flimsy tent that barely held against the wind and a sky full of stars now hidden by looming clouds, this was his anniversary gift to me.
Though disappointment tugged at my heart, I forced a smile and nodded. At least he remembered our anniversary.
As I wrestled with the windblown tent, I caught sight of Cyrus staring at his phone for what seemed like an eternity. His fingers tapped the screen with urgency, and when he finally set it down, there was a flicker of panic in his eyes.
Before I could ask, he was gone.
Moments later, a message appeared on my phone: "There’s an emergency at work. I have to leave."
Cyrus left me. Again.
I decided to descend the mountain alone, unaware of how quickly I’d lose my way in the maze of trees and rocky trails.
It wasn’t until much later, when I had already been rescued, that I learned the truth. Cyrus had rushed down the mountain not for work, but to send birthday wishes to Nina before midnight.
At the birthday party he once claimed to hate, he wore the happiest smile I’d ever seen.
The next day, Cyrus showed up at the hospital. His coat hung awkwardly on his tall frame, a mismatched and hurried choice.
"Are you okay? Are you still feeling unwell?"
His voice reached me before he stepped into the room. I turned toward the door just as he walked in—Nina following closely behind him.
"Sister, I heard you were stranded on the mountain for six hours. It must’ve been so cold," she said with a tone that felt hollow, her concern as fragile as my resolve.
"Cold," I replied, my voice low. "Much colder than in a house."
Although I was answering Nina, my gaze instinctively shifted to Cyrus.
He knew exactly what I meant by "the house."
"You know," he started, his tone light, "Nina hasn’t been back to Washington in a long time. I just wanted to take advantage of her birthday to get everyone together. That’s all."
I stared at him, my voice sharp yet quiet. "But you told me there was something urgent at the company."
He met my eyes, his expression steady, but there wasn’t a trace of remorse in his voice as he replied, "I just didn’t want you to get upset. That’s all."
"Upset?" I repeated, incredulous.
With a casual shrug, he added, "You’re the best. I knew you wouldn’t mind."
