Two days ago, Clarabelle Lewis escaped Natural, so far there was no new update and she remained off the grid. Astoria Leontes didn't even bother to check, and everything went back to normal. The research of XYZ-2421-ERA carried on, agents were doing the jobs assigned to them, like the incident of Lewis never happened. Astoria Leontes must have a discrete plan for Lewis. And Lewis, who was injected by a drug that was still in early stages of the clinical trial that could be lethal and led to mutation, the perfect parley term is the antidote, which had not yet close being produced. However, a woman who was on the edge of death and desperation could care less. She would believe anyone who gave her any hope regardless of how unrealistic it was.
Dean O'Sullivan decided to take his step as soon as possible before Daniel Heinrich could reach Velika O'Sullivan. She had to play the role of an instructor, to guide the German to their side. He told Astoria Leontes that he had a relapse of eczema and required to take one day off to go to the doctor. Of course, he had neither eczema nor a doctor appointment, what he had was a pretty face and he was an excellent liar, without any further inquiries, he was permitted to leave.
How people survive the cruel society? Own a sweet tongue, thought Dean O'Sullivan proudly.
This was the first time after so many years, long enough that he couldn't remember exactly when his last time was that he felt as nervous as he was right now. Perhaps it was on his wedding day. He hadn't seen his wife for nearly ten years, but he insisted to refer her as his wife as they never had a chance to get a divorce. Though her record was all erased, she kept his surname. To some extent, or it only because he stubbornly believed it, she was his wife regardless of any circumstances. It was time for him to confront her, back then he left her without telling her the reason, and now his redemption finally came. He had to resolve the issues between them, explain to her, and let her know what the true reason that brought him the dilemma was, and hoe he had no alternatives but to leave her.
When he arrived at her apartment, she wasn't there. He opened the door with a copy of her keys, which he had since the beginning. Now he was standing in the living room of the woman who he loved and betrayed. Neat and tidy, typical minimalism, black, grey, and white. He recalled they discussed decoration before, when they were together, both of them liked this kind of style. He walked through the lobby, found some photos hanged on the wall on the way to her bedroom. Photos of different cities, she had traveled to various places, Dean O'Sullivan rose his eyebrow as he identified she had gone to Egypt, Spain and had her nice cruise on the Caribbean Sea. They had talked about these as well, where they wanted to travel when they had a moment to themselves.
She still had their dreams; they were faithful to her and could never be shaken. Maybe she convinced herself that she had let him go a long time ago, but the legacies of him were out there, permanent and unerasable, deeply incepted in her mind. She could deny it but she had to admit the effects stayed.
At least Dean O'Sullivan would love to think so.
Dean O'Sullivan didn't intend to pry, he wasn't someone who wanted to creep others' secrets, but he knew her so well that he was aware where she would hide things. He didn't even think he was invading privacy, he thought it was normal to take a look. The interlayer of her bed, he remembered she used to have an interlayer. Once he had found the manuscript of her unfinished, probably never would be finished novel there, which had almost caused a fight, but he cleverly solved it by giving his diary to her. Well, he made up a diary and handed to her, he was intelligent enough not to leave any clue about his life with the possibility of people able to track him down, especially not a diary which made him feel cringe to share his own emotions with a notebook and was easy to spy on.
"Oh Velika," He smiled when he found the interlayer, "Who knows you better than I do?"
Nothing in it but a photo, delicate framed and the glass was elaborately polished, his smile froze when he saw the photo, he frowned.
It was the photo of him and Velika O'Sullivan, taken nearly ten years ago at their wedding, he was holding her shoulder, they were smiling, they were so young and naive, and it was one of her favorite photos. She told him that she would keep it until the reaper came to get her. Such a bittersweet memory, he looked outside through the clean window, the wind touched the leaves and the branches swinging in the mid-summer air. Dean O'Sullivan's mind went back to their wedding day. His parents were so angry and disappointed at him, they didn't attend the wedding, the only family member there that day was his caring sister, who supported him and loved his wife. They got married in the courthouse, witnessed by their close friends. He would say that was probably the happiest day in his life. Even they had nothing, but they were grateful enough that they could be together, with their friends' best wishes, together, they started writing a new chapter of their lives.
He laughed dryly and ironically, for all these years he tried to stay away from her, he thought that perhaps they just weren't meant to be, and he assumed she moved on to that German who had a similar appearance to him, but at the end, he finally realized he was probably wrong, or at least he thought he was wrong.
"Dean?" He suddenly looked up and saw her stared at him with her eyes wide open, "Dean O'Sullivan?"
She looked different now, but he couldn't tell how. For Dean O'Sullivan, no matter how she changed her look, she was the same Velika O'Sullivan he loved and married to. Now he saw the surprise in her eyes, she predicted that Daniel Heinrich would visit someday, but Dean O'Sullivan was never in her schedule.
"Velika, it's been so long." Said him gently.
Velika O'Sullivan saw the photo in his hand, she frowned and crossed her arms, she knew perfectly that he could find it.
"Too long," She smiled weakly, glanced at the photo, "Too long."
"Can I ask you something?" He placed the photo on the desk, she nodded, "Do you still have our wedding band?"
She laughed, showed him her left hand: "Both wedding band and engagement ring are here, what, you thought I'd throw them away?"
"If anything then I'd thought you pawned them," Dean O'Sullivan bit his lips, he began to feel guilty, inside out he felt he owe this woman too much, "You have them on for all these years?"
"Well," She shrugged, "I'm still married to you, I know my records are gone, but we never get a divorce, correct?"
"Correct." He gave her a bitter smile, just like her, he had his wedding ring on for all the past years, remained a married man even he thought he would never saw his wife again. He looked at her rings, then he frowned, "Can I look at them?"
"What? The rings?" She held back for a second, seemed slightly surprised, and with slight, almost undetectable hesitation, she showed him her hand, "Yes, of course."
He looked at them, didn't have any expressions that could like Velika O'Sullivan predict his thoughts. Dean O'Sullivan's thoughts were fluxing, spinning in his brain, even he hadn't seen her for all these years, she could not still hide anything from her.
He sighed: "Before we get to business, I have to give you my official apology, I'm sorry for what I did, but I just wanted to protect you."
"I know," She said quietly, her sight stayed on the photo, "I guess you never thought I'd be dragged in this."
"You should hate me," Dean O'Sullivan paused, he looked away aimlessly and continued, "You really should, why did you forgive me Velika? I abandoned you."
At this moment Velika O'Sullivan didn't know what to think. Yes, she did forgive him, which she should have never done. As time passed by, she simply accepted the fact that she was in this business and even if she hated him, it was nothing but useless hatred. However, it was also due to other reasons that she couldn't tell him, or anyone who wasn't involved. Did Dean O'Sullivan believe that he had such an undeniable impact on her and there was no way for her to get out of his shadow? Or was he pretended to play along to reach his unspeakable aim? Velika O'Sullivan wasn't sure, but her assumption was leaned towards the first one. Her husband was an arrogant man, more arrogant and self-centered than Daniel Heinrich ever was.
If he ever had a weakness, this would be it, thought Velika O'Sullivan.