Perishing in Her Least Loving Moment

Part 9

I once believed that after twenty-five years of struggle, I would finally savor the fruits of my labor.

Yet, not long after, I found myself laid off due to insufficient qualifications. Just as I finished packing my belongings, I collapsed and was diagnosed with terminal cancer.

To care for me, Jasmin left her cherished job in music and took on three part-time gigs each day.

Suddenly, I recalled a night long ago when Jasmin lay in my arms, playfully recounting how the producer at her studio had remarked on her beautiful voice and looks, suggesting she might try her luck in the industry. She had declined, claiming her aversion to the entertainment world.

But seeing her shine so brilliantly on stage, so effortlessly, made me realize that perhaps her smile back then concealed deeper regrets and helplessness than I ever understood.

I had unwittingly been holding her back for far too long.

Fortunately, she has now reconnected with her cultured parents, found a stunning young lover, and gained a devoted fanbase who loves and supports her, securing her own bright future.

Thank goodness, Jasmin ultimately forged her own path.

We were never meant to intersect.

I laughed unexpectedly.

As laughter spilled forth, tears soaked the crumpled drawing in my hands.

It wasn't until dawn that I returned to the city, and Claire was waiting for me again, though I had no idea how long.

Upon my return, she stood at the hospital entrance, clad in the same white shirt I had seen a couple of days earlier, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly tousled, obscuring her delicate features, like a fallen noblewoman.

I recalled her affluent background and her obsessive cleanliness; I had never seen her wear the same outfit twice.

Upon seeing me, her eyes flickered, hesitating to speak.

Finally, she asked softly, "Didn't you say you wanted to clear your mind? Why are you back so soon?"

"Your phone was left on the bed. Someone... called you."

I took the phone, glancing at the number with no name attached.

But there was a text message.

"Hi, I'm Jasmin. I'm sorry to intrude, but after careful consideration, I still hope to help you find the person you mentioned. 'Love on the Road' holds great significance in my life, and perhaps I'm still caught up in it. I wish for what happens in the play to also occur for you in real life."

"If you're willing, you can call me. Here's my personal number."

This number was no longer Jasmin's old one; likely, after her accident, she lost her ID and had to reissue everything.

I still remembered that number was specially chosen as a couple's number.

Gazing at the words, though they were system-generated in black and white, I felt as if I could hear Jasmin's voice, carefully and tenderly addressing me.

My eyes burned, and I instinctively dialed the number.

Luckily, no one answered after a long while.

The weight in my heart dropped heavily.

Claire looked at me, shaking her head gently, gripping my wrist and pulling me toward the ward.

She rarely spoke this much.

"There's a medical team in the UK that specializes in your kind of illness, and they've made significant breakthroughs. There have been cases of recovery. Next week, my teacher and I will go there for exchanges and learning. It won't be long before I can cure you."

"When you get better, I can finally focus on..."

Claire's voice trailed off. I looked at the flickering light above her head, sensing the ease and joy in her tone.

For some reason, I felt an urge to smile.

Yet the previous night seemed to have drained all my energy, and gradually, I could no longer hear Claire's voice.

She paused, turned to look at me, her eyes filled with fear and panic.

It was the first time I saw Claire lose control like this.

Looking down, I noticed blood had stained my clothes.

Claire half-supported and half-carried me onto a stretcher, rushing me into the emergency room with a speed that made my head spin.

She held my hand tightly, shouting in my ear.

"William, I won't let you fall asleep now!"

I felt a bit dazed.

"I didn't sleep two nights ago... I went climbing... I..."

"I'm so tired..."

Suddenly, I looked up and asked her, "Claire... do you think I'm going to die?"

Claire blocked the gradually brightening sunlight from the window, making it hard for me to see her face.

Her eyes seemed to well up.

"Don't say that!"

She had always been composed; it was the first time I saw her like this, the first time I heard her curse.

She had always treated me well, sometimes even better than a doctor treating a patient.

I wanted to smile at Claire, to ask if she had special feelings for me, but I felt too distant from her; perhaps she merely viewed me as a pitiful case.

I felt as if I were collapsing, even blinking felt exhausting.

In the haze, I could still hear Claire saying something.

My phone rang in my ear.

Afterward, I heard no more sounds.