We grew up together, and because of me, my parents raised him like their own son.
He once told me：“I haven't had a mom or dad since I was little. To me, your parents are my parents.”
Time passed quickly, and Winston grew from that little boy crying in the corner into a young man who could hold his own.
But somewhere along the way, I could no longer keep up with him.
Winston was brilliant. A once-in-a-generation kind of mind, really. He topped every exam he ever took and earned a full scholarship admission to Graymont University before anyone else had even finished studying.
I didn't have that kind of gift. Even giving everything I had, I could only get into a less prestigious university.
The whispers about how we didn't match grew louder by the day. Girls who liked him were too many to count. But he never gave any of them a second glance.
After the SATs, I didn't get into Graymont. I ended up at a school hundreds of miles away from his.
I locked myself in my room and cried for three days. That was when he came to me and made it official.
“Claire, all those people like me because I'm impressive. But you're different. You're the one who pulled me out of the mud.”
“I know exactly who's been good to me. Without you, I wouldn't be here. No matter where life takes me, I will never abandon you.”
Back then, he never broke his word.
Winston kept rising, kept shining brighter, but he never left me behind.
In college, we lived in different cities, but even at his busiest, he made sure to see me at least once a month.
The year Winston finished his doctorate, I was dealing with unfair treatment at work and debating whether to quit. Without hesitation, he became my safety net and arranged a position for me at the university.
That was the kind of person he was. Once he committed to something, he never wavered. Once he committed to someone, same thing.
It was true when he was with me. It was true when he threw himself into his research. And it was just as true when his heart changed.
The year Winston finished his doctorate, we got married.
The wedding was simple, but it made me feel steady. Grounded.
Our life was a quiet loop between home, work, and each other, and I thought it was the happiest I'd ever been.
By then, he had already achieved everything the world measures success by. He no longer chased fame or status. His mind lived entirely in his research, consumed by it.
One evening after work, I went to his office like I always did. Before I even reached the door, a bright, ringing laugh spilled out from inside.
I pushed the door open. A young, beautiful girl turned to look at me. Winston's eyes were still on her, a warmth in them I recognized instantly.
How long had it been since I'd seen that expression on his face? Years, maybe.
I didn't know when it started, but even though the miles between us had finally closed, the distance between our hearts seemed to grow wider with every passing day.
I couldn't follow the research topics he studied. I couldn't understand the experiments he ran. I couldn't even keep up with the news he paid attention to.
More times than I could count, Winston came home in a good mood, ready to tell me about his day, only to let out a quiet sigh and say nothing at all.
It wasn't until that afternoon, blinded by the look on his face, that I finally understood. It wasn't that the world had gotten too complicated. It was that I wasn't enough to understand him.
That night, I tested the waters：“Who was that girl in your office this afternoon? She was pretty.”
“A new student I took on this year. Gabriella Morton. Very sharp. Reminds me of myself back in school.”
His tone was perfectly even, nothing out of the ordinary. But the unease in my chest wouldn't settle.
Something between us had shifted. I could feel it.
Gradually, Gabriella Morton's presence in Winston's life grew.
He started coming home late because of her thesis when I had dinner waiting. He canceled our plans to help her with experiments. He took her along on work trips, just the two of them. He even brought her into our weekends, the time we'd promised would be ours alone.
