Chapter 7 - Old wounds

Lily's office's tall house windows let in natural light, accentuating its elegant lines and modern furnishings. It was her second day in the area, and she was already starting to feel at ease, as if this was her natural state. The shining desk, the elegant artwork on the walls, and the modest beauty of the gap all felt like manifestations of her own hard-won freedom.

Samuel strolled in, holding a stack of documents and smiling broadly. "Excellent digs," he said, looking around appreciatively. "You've performed properly for your self, mei mei."

Lily returned his smile, feeling a wave of appreciation for her brother's consistent assistance. "I couldn't have done it without you, ge," she said, setting down her coffee mug and completing one of the documents.

Samuel shrugged modestly. "All I did was make a few recommendations. "You did all the heavy lifting." He dropped the stack on the table and tenderly patted her shoulder. "Looking at you, Ms. Chen." You are the head of your own agency. Parents could be very proud."

She felt her chest constrict, and a bittersweet ache settle in. "I hope so," she said quietly, her voice soft.

They worked in pleasant silence for a few minutes, going over the ultra-modern reports and planning the upcoming tasks. Lily became completely engrossed in a strategy draft as she heard the faint chime of the elevator down the hall, followed by the sound of fast footfall.

Maya appeared at the entryway, bearing a bouquet of white lilies wrapped in delicate tissue paper. As she reached Lily's table, her eyes widened with astonishment and excitement. "those simply arrived for you, Ms. Chen."

Lily's breath caught in her throat, her gaze fixed on the bouquet in Maya's palms. She didn't need to study the card to figure out who had sent them. Jason was known for his crisp white petals and sensitive smell. She hadn't seen flowers like this in years, yet the memory of them persisted, like a ghost from a life she assumed she'd left behind.

Maya set the bouquet on the desk and stepped back, giving Lily an inquisitive glance. "Shall I… take them to the reception place?"

Lily shook her head, forcing herself to speak flippantly. "No, it is satisfactory. "Thank you, Maya.

Maya exited the room with a kind nod, carefully closing the door behind her. The perfume of the flowers wafted through the room, bringing the silence back, heavier than before.

Lily held out her arms, brushing across the delicate petals. She hadn't expected this—for him to think about it after all. The greenery had always been his method of asserting himself, a silent reminder of his presence even when he wasn't there. She felt a familiar aching rising up inside her, the pain of old memories returning unexpectedly.

"He still remembers," she said almost to herself, her arms resting on one of the blooms.

Samuel studied her with a thoughtful gaze. "The question is, mei mei," he asked softly. "Do you need him to?"

The lines hung in the air, striking a nerve. Lily turned aside, her hand slipping from the plants. She wanted to say no, that she didn't care, and that his memories and regrets were no longer important to her. But deep down, she knew it wasn't that simple. The beyond had left scars that still throbbed when touched, and Jason's presence, no matter how remote, had the effect of reopening wounds she had worked so hard to repair.

"I don't recognise," she said, her voice scarcely audible.

Samuel sighed and reached out to gently squeeze her hand. "You've come this far, Lily. Don't let him draw you back into that area."

"I recognize," she said, nodding slowly. "However, it is not as simple as forgetting. "He changed into the entire thing once."

Samuel repeated "once," with a cautious tone. "but no longer anymore."

She closed her eyes, fighting back the emotions that tried to rise to the floor. Two years. Two years had passed since she moved away from that existence, that heartache. She had tried to rebuild herself, to reclaim her identity, and to find ways to breathe again without the weight of his betrayal pressing on her chest.

However, the flowers on her desk served as a gentle reminder that the beyond was not completely gone. It lurked, hiding in unexpected corners, ready to emerge with a single familiar heavy scent or a forgotten melody.

"Maybe I'll just throw them out," she mumbled, glancing toward the garbage can.

Samuel lifted his eyebrow. "Alternatively, you might donate them to the entryway. Allow someone else to relish in them."

Lily maintained a feeble smile. "Excellent concept. There is no factor that allows them to go to waste.

Samuel nodded in approval. "Smart preference. And remember, mei mei, you are no longer the lady you were back then. You don't owe him anything.

She took a steadying breath and straightened her shoulders. "You are proper. "I do not."

Just as she was going to pick up the bouquet to take downstairs, her phone buzzed at the desk, and the display lit up with an unexpected number. She hesitated, her heart racing as she took it up, half expecting it to be Jason.

"Hiya?" she said, her voice wary.

There was a brief pause before a familiar voice spoke from the other end. "Lily. "It's me."

Her heart froze, and her grasp on the phone tightened. She hadn't heard that voice in two years and hadn't allowed herself to remember the tone. But it became smooth and familiar, bringing with it a flood of memories she thought she had put behind her.

"Jason," she said, her voice cautious.

There was a moment before he cleared his throat. "I have heard about your new company. "I wanted to congratulate you."

She swallowed, forcing herself to remain calm. "thanks. But you didn't need to send flowers."

another pause. "I just wanted to remind you of our past relationship. Of what you immediately planned for me."

The words struck her like a blow, eliciting emotions she didn't need to feel. She had been happy without him, content with her new existence, but now he had returned, drawing her back into the depths from which she had tried so hard to escape.

"Jason," she said quietly and firmly, "whatever we had is over. I'm no longer the same person I was. I suppose you should just accept that."

Silence settled on the road, heavy and unsettling. She should almost feel his hesitation, his unwillingness to allow movement.

"I recognise you've moved on, Lily," he finally murmured, his voice mild and almost sorry. "But I just..." I wanted to make sure you know I hadn't forgotten.

She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe and speak normally. "Sometimes forgetting is the kindest thing we can do, Jason. "For both individuals."

There was a long silence and then a sigh. "Perhaps you're proper," he muttered. "however it doesn't alternate the fact that I nonetheless—"

"Good-bye, Jason," she stopped him off before he could say anything more. "deal with your self."

Before he could respond, she stopped the conversation, her hand quivering slightly as she laid the phone down. She felt Samuel's eyes on her, his subtle challenge acting as an anchor to keep her steady.

"He won't change, Lily," Samuel said softly, his voice full of wisdom from experience. "Nor must you. You have a bright future ahead of you. Don't let him dull that mild."

She nodded gently, letting his words wash over her, grounding her in the present. She picked up the bouquet, her resolve growing as she proceeded to the door.

"Come on," she said, her voice calm and steady. "Let's take them downstairs. They will appear higher anywhere but here."

Samuel looked at her, a proud smile on his face, as they entered the corridor. As they approached the lobby, Lily felt a sense of relief, a gentle tranquility replacing the sorrow that had before remained.

She knew the road was far from done, that old scars might emerge at times, but for the time being, she felt lighter, unburdened by the weight of her past. With each step, she felt herself moving forward, leaving the ghosts of her previous existence behind.

And when they placed the bouquet on the front table, a smooth smile appeared on her lips, a reminder that she was finally free

—free to take her next step without the aid of anything that had previously held her lower back.