Echoes of the Past Years

But less than two days later, Noelle kept posting Instagram stories. One showed her wrist wrapped in bandages with the caption: [If my existence is causing trouble for you, I’ll disappear.]

A photo of her getting an IV at the hospital appeared, with the caption: [Don’t worry about me. It’s all my fault.]

A selfie in front of a university building, with the caption: [Youth that won’t come back. People I can’t forget.]

I sent the screenshots to Jackson. He called Noelle and shouted, “Noelle, stay away from Elizabeth! If you don’t, don’t expect me to show mercy just because we used to be friends!”

A crying voice on the phone said, “Jackson, I’ve loved you for eight years. I can’t live without you…”

Jackson hung up, looking angry. The next day, Noelle’s warning letter was posted on the research institute’s bulletin board.

She was removed from an important project and lost her chance to apply for a professional title. I knew Jackson did this. He wanted to prove his loyalty to me.

That afternoon, Noelle rushed into my office crying. “Elizabeth! Happy now? You used your marriage to control Jackson and now you’re destroying my future too!”

She rushed at me and I slapped her. “You chose to be a mistress and ruin someone else’s marriage. How dare you complain?”

Jackson hurried over, protecting me with his arms and glared at Noelle. She became bolder and leaned in to kiss his lips.

My mind went blank. Then I heard her say, “Jackson, I’m the department’s famous beauty. Everyone wants me. I don’t believe you have no feelings for me!”

I was about to slap her again, but Jackson stopped me. After a brief pause, he said, “You don’t deserve me. Elizabeth has been with me through everything; I won’t betray her.” Then he threw a pen holder at her.

Noelle didn’t move. She cried, blood running from her forehead.

“This is what happens when you provoke Elizabeth,” he said coldly, pulling me out of the office.

Once outside, Jackson let me go. He turned away and lit a cigarette. “Elizabeth, go back first. I have to work overtime at the hospital later.”

I could only manage a single sound, “Mm.”

That night, Jackson held me tightly, then muttered in his sleep, “Noelle…”

I tensed and pulled away, staring at the man who was still as handsome as ever after ten years.

I remembered him protecting me when I was bullied, breaking thirty-three ribs for me and risking his life to save me in the snowy mountains.

I remembered him skipping his international conference and flying halfway across the world to bring me brown sugar water when I had a stomachache.

Jackson was still kind in my memory, but he didn’t realize he no longer loved me. I stayed awake all night, then messaged the dean of Arcanum Sanctum Research Academy: [Director Bentley, I accept your invitation and will join the “Sky Dome Project” team in a month.]

After that day, Jackson and I quietly kept our distance, seeing each other less often, until the academy’s annual awards ceremony, where we were invited on stage as a “model research couple.”