Chapter 3

Living in that leaky rented room, my heart went soft, and I turned into a coward.

I didn't want her to suffer along with me.

So I said the cruelest thing I could, and drove her away.

Later, I clawed my way up in this city, and by chance I ran into Antonia, who was fighting for her own place here too. Antonia was forward about it, practical about it, and it made me think maybe that was just what life was.

I assumed Fern had married long ago, had a kid, and settled into a steady, comfortable life.

But I never once imagined that today, the day I was "bankrupt" and abandoned by everyone, the one person who would give up everything to save me would be her.

"That's your house, that's everything you own! Aren't you afraid I'll take the money and run? That I won't be able to pay you back?"

The other end of the line went quiet for a long time.

Long enough that I thought the call had dropped.

Then I heard her let out a soft sigh.

"Jason, money's gone, you can earn more. A house is gone, you can buy another. But… if something happened to you, then I really would have nothing left."

That line shook me more than any love confession ever could.

The hand holding the phone was trembling hard, and the tears I'd been holding back finally spilled over.

I wanted to tell her I wasn't bankrupt.

I wanted to tell her I had thirty billion, that I could buy her ten thousand houses.

But the words came to my lips, and I held them back.

I wanted to see her.

I wanted to see what this foolish girl had become now.

And I wanted to give her, and give myself, a chance.

"Fern," I wiped away the tears, and my voice turned unusually gentle, "this money… I'll take it. Consider it a loan. I swear I'll pay you back, every cent plus interest, and I won't let you down."

On the other end, Fern seemed to breathe easier.

"No interest… as long as you're okay." She paused, her voice dropping very soft. "Then you… take care of yourself. Call me anytime you need to."

"Okay."

I hung up and looked at the string of unread bank texts on my screen.

【Your savings account ending 8889 has received a deposit of ¥9,430,000.00. Balance…】

I stared hard at that string of numbers.

For money, Antonia could throw me away without a second thought.

For me, Fern could throw away money without a second thought.

What a bitter comparison.

For half my life, I, Jason Dickerson, had really wasted it on the wrong people.

I took a deep breath and dialed my assistant.

"Mr. Dickerson?" There was surprise in his voice. "Aren't you off today?"

"Look someone up for me." My eyes went sharp. "Fern Pruitt. I want to know everything about the last ten years of her life, especially her relationships. And find out who she sold her house to. I want to buy it back."

I set the phone down and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the bustling city.

The sun was coming up.

The Jason Dickerson of yesterday was dead.

The Jason Dickerson of today would live for the people who deserved it.

That afternoon, Antonia really did show up.

She brought a lawyer and a freshly printed copy of the divorce papers, terrified I might change my mind.

"Hurry up and sign, let's get it done." Antonia kept her sunglasses on, wouldn't even spare the mansion a second glance, as if the place were crawling with bad luck.

I sat on the couch, watching that face of hers so desperate to get away, and the last ripple of feeling in me went still.

"The house is yours, the car is yours, the savings are yours." Antonia jabbed a finger at the terms. "The debt is yours."

Legally, she couldn't really wash her hands of marital debt so cleanly, but I didn't argue.

For the man I was now, any problem money could solve wasn't a problem.

The important thing was that a little money could buy out every last tie between her and me. More than worth it.

I signed without hesitation and pressed my thumbprint.

The moment she saw me sign, Antonia visibly relaxed, and even let a mocking little smile show.

"Jason, don't blame me for being cold. Husband and wife are birds in the same forest, and when disaster strikes they each fly their own way. That's wisdom the ancestors handed down." She gathered up the papers and stood, chin high. "I hope you sort yourself out from here on. Don't end up on the street and come begging me for scraps."

I looked at her and said flatly, "Relax. Even if I'm out begging, I'd never come begging at your door."

Antonia clicked away on her heels, hips swinging.

In under two hours, the divorce certificate was in hand.

The moment I walked out the doors of the county clerk's office, I looked at the dark-red booklet in my hand and drew in a deep breath of free air.

Just then, a somewhat old white Volkswagen Polo pulled up at the curb.

The window rolled down, revealing a plain but still gentle face.

It was Fern.

She was a little thinner than I remembered, with faint lines at the corners of her eyes, but those eyes were as clear as ever, full of worry.

She wore a simple beige trench coat, hair loosely gathered at the back of her head, a sharp contrast to the head-to-toe designer, tacky-as-ever Antonia I'd just left.

"Jason!"

She pushed the door open, got out, and walked quickly toward me.

When she saw the divorce certificate in my hand, her steps hitched, a flash of shock in her eyes that quickly turned to deep, aching pity.

"She… she really divorced you?"

I lifted the booklet with a bitter smile. "Divorced. Turned off by the bankruptcy, scared of the debt, ran faster than a rabbit."

Fern bit her lip, her eyes going red.

"As long as you're still here, there's still hope."

I looked at her, up close, at this face that had haunted my dreams.

"Fern, thank you."

"Thank me for what." She lowered her head, a little shy. "Get in. I'll… I'll take you to eat something. You must not have eaten all day."

Sitting in her little car, the faint scent of jasmine around me, I felt a calm I hadn't known in years.

"Fern, these past few years… have you been doing okay?" I asked carefully.

Her hands tightened on the wheel, then she gave a deliberately light little laugh. "I've been fine. Work's steady. I don't make much, but it's enough to get by."

"And you… did you get married?"

I held my breath, waiting for the answer that felt like a verdict.

Fern went silent.

The car stopped at a red light.

She turned her head and looked at me, her eyes complicated.

"No."

Two simple words, and my heart started pounding.

"Why?" It came out before I could stop it. "You're so wonderful. There must have been plenty of men after you."

Fern lowered her lashes, and their long line trembled.

"Maybe… my standards were just too high." She gave a self-mocking little smile. "Or maybe I was waiting for some fool to smarten up."

My heart felt like a gentle hand had suddenly clamped down hard on it.

She'd been waiting for me.

All these ten years, she'd been waiting for me.

Even after I married, even after I became another woman's husband, she'd kept guarding that memory, alone.

And me, I'd lost myself all that time in the so-called world of fame and money, and let a girl this good slip past.

"Fern."