Chapter 22
He composed himself before continuing,. “That bucket was tiny, barely big enough for me to curl up inside. My mother soaked a towel, covered her nose and mouth and shoved me into the bucket.”
“She wanted to go out and call for help, but she couldn’t even approach the door. The entire door radiated terrifying heat, making it impossible to get near. Thick, acrid smoke relentlessly seeped in through the door cracks, choking us so badly we couldn’t speak, let alone breathe properly.”
“Then, the bathroom door suddenly collapsed. My mother covered my back with the towel, held me tightly in her arms and whispered in my ear: ‘Live.“”
Winston didn’t shed tears, but Ivana was already crying uncontrollably. Perhaps their similarly traumatic childhoods struck a chord in her, deepening her sense of grief.
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He continued, “I’m sorry. I think my mother and I owe you an apology. I was that little boy living next door to you. You and your family didn’t do anything wrong, but simply because you lived next to us, you were caught up in the blaze and paid a terrible price.”
“So, so, the blueprints I saw that day…” Ivana sobbed, her words barely intelligible. through her tears.
Winston added, “Yes, those blueprints were part of my investigation into what truly happened. Over the years, I’ve failed to uncover definitive proof against anyone. I don’t know if it was my father, Ernest’s mother, or the two of them together.”
“Either way, I survived. Realizing I couldn’t stay there, I changed my name to follow my mother’s surname and returned to my grandmother’s home in the countryside. When I was seventeen, my grandmother passed away too and I returned here. I enrolled in a firefighting program and
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became a firefighter.”
“The elderly landlady, who had been my mother’s friend, helped me. She and my mom met when my mom stood up for her against local vendors who were trying to scam her because she was a foreigner. The two of them struck up a friendship despite the language barrier,” he said.
Ivana vaguely remembered the quiet boy who used to live next door. He rarely spoke or smiled, always carrying an air of precocious solemnity. She had greeted him a few times and his reply was always a wooden, “Hello.”
Who would’ve thought that boy was Winston? The difference was astonishing.
He finally said, “Ivana, I’ve been completely honest with you. I hope you’ll seriously consider the first thing I said.”
“I want to know, are you pursuing me because you want to make amends or because you truly like me?” Ivana blushed,
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looking earnestly at Winston.
When it came to relationships, she was cautious and sincere, almost to the point of emotional perfectionism. If Winston’s feelings for her were born out of guilt, she wouldn’t hesitate to reject him.
He then explained, “I understand my situation is complicated. I also
acknowledge that, back then, your family suffered greatly because of mine, which led to your losing your parents and enduring hardship far too early. I admit, from the moment I reencountered you, I’ve been trying to find ways to make it up to you. I kept an eye on your life to see how I could help.”
“But as I got to know you, I realized how strong and vulnerable you are, how sensitive yet determined. You’re always striving to live brightly, optimistically and. hopefully. At every award ceremony, your smile radiated confidence and
contentment, devoid of bitterness
Over
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Chapter 221
life’s cruelty.” Winston produced a photo album filled with pictures of Ivana at various award ceremonies. Each photo was meticulously dated.
Ivana flipped through her phone and found. images of the audience. In nearly every one, Winston was standing far in the background, his gaze transitioning over time from fleeting interest to deep affection. His gentle smile bore undisguised admiration and love for her.
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