A Love like the Moon on Water

My phone vibrated. It was a message from Ian.

[Vivian, just go with the bodyguards. Head to my private mansion in the suburbs and wait for me. Don't cause a scene.]

With trembling fingers, I sent a response.

[Why did you lie to me?]

He soon sent another message.

[Be good and wait for me there. I'll explain everything.]

I finally understood everything. Every time when I wanted to look for him, he would use being on dangerous missions as an excuse.

He was not afraid that I would get caught up in trouble. He was worried that a poor woman like him would embarrass him and ruin his marriage.

I looked up to see people nearby pointing at me, whispering to each other. Some even secretly took videos and photos of me.

I heard one of their insults.

"She looks harmless, but she's actually the mistress."

I choked up tears, explaining, "I'm not a mistress. He was the one who lied to me…"

What came was only more mockery and judgmental glares.

Two men in black escorted me into a black luxury car. Once the door was closed, my heart completely sank.

Lipsticks were scattered everywhere along with various fertility supplements, and there was a black lace thong, still marked with traces of intimacy, tucked into the seat crevice.

They brought me to Ian's secret private mansion. It was secluded and desolate.

Five years ago, I ventured into the wilderness deep in the mountains to collect research samples. There, I found Ian drenched in blood by a stream.

Using my medical and pharmacology knowledge, I treated his wounds and stayed by his side for an entire month in a makeshift shelter, day and night.

He told me he was a bodyguard for the Gambino family in South Bordington.

I had not revealed my true identity. Instead, I said that I was a simple girl from an ordinary family who came to the mountains to clear my mind.

Although he was badly injured and weak, he was extremely gentle with me.

At night, the mountain winds were bone-chilling, yet he pulled me close, shielding me with his fragile body.

I was afraid of the dark, so he stayed awake all night, holding my hand until dawn.

After his recovery, he insisted on following me back to the city, cramming into my tiny 20-square-meter apartment, and we began our relationship.

He never let me touch cold water. In the freezing winter, he did all the chores.

Late at night, I buried myself in research data, and he thought I was just working a simple part-time job. He would quietly stay close to me, warming milk for me, whispering softly for me not to tire myself.

When I had a mild fever, he would cancel all his so-called missions just to stay with me, watching over me the entire night.

He would hold me tightly in deserted alleyways, burying his face in my neck, his voice low and anxious.

"Vivian, I have nothing but you. Please don't leave me."

Back then, I had received an offer from a top international research institute, a dream opportunity that promised limitless prospects.

However, seeing his insecurity and anxiety gleaming in his eyes, I chose to stay in that small town.

I told Ian that I would be his safe harbor for him to return at any moment.

His eyes instantly reddened. He said, "Vivian, I will surely marry you."

Back then, his love was real. There was not a hint of pretense or insincerity.

However, in the end, he still chose family, status, and the socially perfect Jeanine Santoro.

The wind howled outside the window as I clutched the shattered fragments of my memories.

His love was real, but his choice was stronger than love.

I picked up my phone and made a call.

"I'm ready to join Professor Lindt's secret research team abroad."

The person on the other end of the line leaped with joy.

"Amazing! Ms. Walter, with you on board with us, our project will surely make breakthrough progress! We'll send a private plane to pick you up in five days"

"Vivian, who are you talking to?"