I Was Never Their Daughter—Only Their Tool

Half an hour later, Calista pushed open the door and saw Flora making the bed. She froze in her tracks.

“Flora?” She hurried over. “Why did you get out of bed? The doctor said your ribs haven't healed yet and you shouldn't move around!”

Flora looked up and smiled at her. “It's okay, I'm feeling much better.”

Calista tried to persuade her further, but her expression changed when she noticed the open suitcase by the bed.

Her gaze shifted between the suitcase and Flora, her voice trembling: “What are you doing…”

“I’m going back home,” Flora said calmly. “I have a flight today.”

“Going back home?” Calista’s eyes widened, and she instinctively grabbed her wrist. “What about Carlton?” You two..."

“We broke up.”

“Why?” Calista's voice suddenly rose, then she realized something and lowered it again. “Is it because... because of yesterday...”

“Yes, yesterday I saw you kiss him.” Flora looked up at her. “Calista, you've always liked him, haven't you?”

Calista's face turned pale instantly.

“No, Flora, you're misunderstanding. I just...”

“I want to break up with him not just because of that.” Flora interrupted her, turning to retrieve a brown paper bag from the bedside table. “I've kept this decision in mind for a long time. Calista, I think you should take a look at this.”

Calista took it with confusion, opening it to find a thick stack of photos, which was full all of her.

There was a side view of her watering flowers in the garden, a moment of her smiling at a banquet, and even just her back as she stood by the window daydreaming. Each photo was perfectly preserved with neat edges and not a single crease.

Below the photos was a stack of love letters.

Calista flipped open the top one, and the familiar handwriting caught her eye.

They were all written by Carlton?!

The words on the letterhead were written with such passion, filled with the love a young man dared not speak aloud!

Calista’s hand trembled violently, and tears fell onto the letterhead.

She looked up in disbelief: “This…”

“Yes, he liked you,” Flora said softly. “From the very beginning, he’s always like you.”

“I… I didn’t know…” Calista's tears fell heavily onto the letter paper, “All these years, I also...”

Flora saw shock and realization flash in her eyes, followed by uncontrollable joy. Her heart felt as though it had been tightly gripped by an invisible hand. She squeezed her palm hard to keep her voice steady.

"You don't know he likes you, and he doesn't know you like him. Now that we've talked it out, it's fine."

She paused, looking at Calista's red eyes: "Calista, you said you treat me as a sister and can agree to anything I ask."

"Then I hope you and Carlton have a good talk."

"Be with him or not, it's your own choice."

"But at least..." She smiled slightly, "Let each other know your feelings."

Calista's tears finally burst, she clutched the letters tightly, her voice choked: "Thank you..."

Flora came forward and hugged her gently, whispering in her ear: "Okay, my plane is about to take off, I have to go first."

She let go and picked up the suitcase.

When she reached the door, Calista suddenly called her: "Flora!"

Flora turned around.

"You..." Calista's voice trembled, "Will you come back after you go back to your hometown? Can we... meet again?"

Flora stood at the door, the sun shone in from behind her, casting a long shadow on the floor.

"Never." She smiled gently, "Calista, a qualified ex should disappear completely."

The sunlight in the corridor was dazzling. Flora raised her hand to cover her eyes. She felt tears all over her face, but she laughed.

When she arrived at the airport, the airport broadcast just happened to sound.

Flora handed her boarding pass to the staff. She took a last look at her phone. The screen saver was still the side face of Carlton that she secretly photographed on his birthday last year.

She gently swiped across the screen, and her fingertips stayed on the "delete" key for a second.

There was a light "ding" sound.

The photo that she had treasured for a long time, along with the number stored in the address book for seven years, and all the preferences recorded in the memo, disappeared in an instant.

Just like her seven years of love, at this moment, the ‘end’ key was completely pressed...