Losing Memory, Losing Love

It was an ordinary, everyday surprise for Quincy. Still, for Harley, it was something extravagant, something out of reach. That bouquet of yellow roses in Quincy's arms reminded her of the past. Back when, on every holiday, every birthday, every little occasion, James would always prepare a bouquet of red roses for her. Because she loved them. Because he once said she was like a red rose, passionate, thorny, and stubbornly alive.

Harley couldn't look away from their happiness. Gradually, she felt a coolness on her cheeks. She touched them, realizing she was crying. She wiped her tears, worried about smudging her makeup, and went to the restroom.

She turned on the faucet and washed her hands, but tears fell uncontrollably into the sink. Why wouldn't they stop? She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She looked up at her reflection in the mirror. Her pale face was gaunt, the exhaustion showing through her makeup. She reapplied her lipstick.

"Harley." Suddenly, a voice called from behind her.

Harley caught sight of her in the mirror, her expression stiffening for a brief moment before she silently continued adjusting herself. Quincy walked up beside her, washed her hands, and struck up a conversation. "I saw you the moment I came in. What a coincidence! Eating alone?"

"Yeah," Harley replied nonchalantly.

Seeing the lack of warmth on Harley's face, Quincy's lips curled into a subtle smirk. "I heard you called James, but he had already promised to celebrate with me this morning, so he turned you down. Sorry about that."

Harley's fingers paused slightly, her fist tightening just a little. Even if Quincy had said that deliberately to provoke her, there was nothing she could do to win this game. So, she could only walk away. Just as she turned, Quincy's voice sounded behind her. "When are you finally going to divorce James?"

Harley stopped in her tracks. Quincy wiped her hands, then stepped in front of her. "You know deep down that the person James loves is me. If it weren't for you holding onto the title of Mrs. Franklin, he would have married me long ago. Don't you think you're the one tearing us apart? Making everyone miserable?"

Her words were full of accusations as if everything was Harley's fault. Harley looked at her and asked, "You seem anxious."

Her calmness made Quincy uneasy. She quickly retorted, "I've waited for three years! Isn't that long enough?"

Harley tilted her head slightly. "Then why don't you have James say it himself?"

Quincy pursed her lips slightly. "If it weren't for James' grandmother, do you really think he wouldn't have? If you initiate the divorce, it'll make things easier for him. You've already dragged him along for three years, it's time to end this."

Harley studied Quincy's face, which bore a resemblance to her own. Her lips curved into a mocking smile. "Sometimes, I really wonder. Does he love you, or just the body you happen to inhabit?"

Quincy's expression changed. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing." Harley's voice was indifferent. "Divorce is between me and James. It has nothing to do with you."

After that, she turned to leave. Unfortunately, Quincy wasn't willing to let it go. How much longer did she have to wait? How much longer would she have to endure? As long as Harley remained, Quincy would never be able to marry James. Jealousy burned inside her, twisting her expression.