Find The Most Beautiful Version of Yourself

I dug out my old, carefully kept notes and started revisiting my forensic and anatomy studies. Lost in the work I loved, I felt time flew by.

I barely noticed when Scott came in.

“What are you reading, Lillian?”

I looked up and saw a brief flash of distaste in Scott’s eyes.

Early in our relationship, I had once read through my notes in front of him.

At that time, he had covered his mouth and backed away.

“Lillian, how can you be into this? Just looking at it made me lose my appetite for the rest of the day.”

I had been deeply in love with him and had indulged his every whim without question. After that, I never mentioned my work or looked at my notes in his presence.

Now, I faced him directly, no longer avoiding the topic.

“I’m reviewing some professional notes. When did you get back?”

I blinked, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction despite my tired eyes.

“So you ignored my calls just to read this?”

His voice was tinged with irritation and anger.

I didn’t get why he was so upset. Missing one call was a minor issue. He frequently ignored mine, and yet he was enraged now.

It was truly baffling.

I stood up and began searching for my phone, which I had misplaced somewhere.

“What's wrong with your arm?”

It was only then that Scott noticed my arm in a cast.

“It was hit by a falling rock, but it’s no big deal now.”

Scott unconsciously touched his nose, probably feeling a bit guilty, and made a move to touch me.

I subtly stepped back, sidestepping him as I headed for the door.

His hand dropped to his side, and he spoke with a touch of frustration.

“That day, Hannah said she wanted to go sketching in the mountains, but halfway there, she changed her mind.”

“I meant to tell you…”

I gave him a wry smile. He had plenty of opportunities to respond to me that day, even if it was just a single sentence.

When the accident first happened, his phone was still on, but no one answered.

Later, it was just off.

Now, his pale excuses seemed like a cruel joke.

As soon as our eyes met, he quickly looked away, pressing his lips together as he changed the subject.

“Hannah called today, saying she had a cooking mishap, so I went over to help. She knew I loved homemade noodles, so she insisted on making them for me as a thank you.”

“But she’s not exactly a great cook, so it ended up being me…”

As he spoke, a smile of affection and satisfaction crept onto his face.

I stopped in my tracks, turned back, and quietly stared at him.

His high nose bridge, long lashes, and deep, dark eyes always seemed to be filled with a kind of tender affection, even when looking at a dog.

I had been lost in those eyes for five years.

But now, I felt weary.

“She can’t cook, and it’s okay you’re much better,” I said.

He stopped mid-sentence, staring at me in confusion, as if he couldn’t understand why I was so calm.

If this were before, I would have been hysterical, demanding he do the same for me, as if that would prove my place in his heart.

“Lillian, why are you speaking like that? Hannah and I aren’t…”

“I’m not thinking anything! You’re college friends and kindred spirits. If you wanted to be together, what does it have to do with me?”

“I don’t care. Do whatever you want!”

“I’ve got an injured arm and can’t sleep well. From now on, I’m sleeping in the guest room!”

“Get some rest. Good night!”

Without waiting for a response, I closed the guest room door behind me.

I heard the sound of a door slamming outside. Scott was angry again.

He probably thought I was ungrateful for not playing along with his game.

In his eyes, I must have been a walking mistake.

Whether I was hysterical or composed, it didn’t make a difference to him.