I glanced around the room.
First floor, plenty of sunlight, large floor-to-ceiling windows.
From the location to the layout, everything was perfectly suited to my needs.
“Thanks, Dr. Knight, for helping me out this time.”
Conner hummed a response, his tone flat.
“I hope you can get better now that you’re back, Leslie.”
I forced a smile but didn’t respond.
Get better.
Those words sounded so light, as if recovery were that simple.
As Conner was leaving, he kept rattling off reminders.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.
For someone with such a cool, distant vibe, he sure could nag.
At the door, I reminded him, “Dr. Knight, don’t forget that little favor of mine.”
“Contact me when the time comes, and also…”
He suddenly turned to look at me, his tone serious,
“Call me Conner.”
After seeing him off, my smile disappeared. I tossed the bottle of pills he’d left me into a corner.
Controlling my wheelchair, I moved back to the sofa and picked up my phone.
As soon as I unlocked it, a flood of trending news notifications popped up:
#Jameson Hall’s Rumored New Relationship##
#Top Actress Makes a Bold Public Announcement##
#Love Triumphs Over All?##
Each headline blared with urgency, grabbing my attention.
The window was open, and a breeze drifted in.
The wind stung my eyes, making them water.
And the tangled thoughts in my mind grew more chaotic.
I couldn’t pinpoint where this inexplicable feeling came from.
After a brief pause, I typed the actress’s name into the search bar, and more headlines immediately appeared.
With my emotions swirling inside, I didn’t even notice the slight tremble in my hands.
After composing myself, I hesitantly clicked on her social media profile.
Pinned to the top was her latest post:
[Finally found you. @JamesonHall.”
That sentence echoed Jameson’s hit song.
Waiting for you.
Found you.
A singer with both talent and popularity.
An actress with beauty and background.
It all seemed so…
Those words lingered on my lips, like poison, waiting to strike the moment they were spoken.
3
Restlessness overwhelmed me, and I lost control, letting my emotions spiral.
My right hand clenched tightly into a fist, and I began pounding it hard against my leg.
Again and again, without stopping.
The physical pain, coupled with the psychological torment, pushed me closer and closer to the edge of the cliff.
Suddenly, the urgent ringing of my phone pulled me back from that cliff.