Chapter 3

3.

The news of my death spread through social media and alumni groups like wildfire.

My old college professor, Mr. Lewis, sent Silas a message. He said he had found a box of my old things in his office.

Notebooks, pens, some photos, and little trinkets I had left behind.

He asked Silas if he wanted to come pick them up as a memento.

Silas stared at the screen, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. He didn't reply for a long time.

I floated beside him, thinking he'd definitely say no.

To him, I wasn't even worth a handful of ash. Why would he want my junk?

But to my surprise, he typed a single word: "Fine."

That weekend, he drove back to our old campus.

The university looked exactly the same. The oak-lined paths, the stone steps of the library, the students rushing to class―it was like time had frozen.

Silas walked toward the administration building with a blank face.

But his steps were slower than usual. His eyes drifted around, searching for something.

When Mr. Lewis saw him, he sighed and handed over a small cardboard box.

"Lennon kept these things for a long time. She... she really cherished them."

Silas didn't say a word. He just looked down and sifted through the box.

There were notebooks with his initials doodled on the covers, a few polaroids, and random souvenirs from our dates.

"That girl loved you since freshman year, Silas. She loved you for a lifetime."

"When I heard you two got married, I was happy. I thought she finally got her fairytale. Life is just cruel sometimes, isn't it?"

Silas's fingers tightened on the edge of a photo, crinkling the corner.

A strange flicker crossed his eyes, like a sudden sharp pain had hit him.

But he just gave a cold "Mhm," took the box, and turned to leave.

I thought he'd go straight to the car, but he didn't.

He walked toward the lake―the exact spot where I had gathered the courage to confess my feelings to him.

That night, I had stuttered for ten minutes. I thought I had blown it.

Then he had laughed and said, "You're so clumsy. If you like me, just say it."

Now, he stood by the water, staring at the calm surface. I wondered what was going through his head.

We used to walk around the track, hand in hand, for hours.

He used to grab my wrist and pull me close, laughing with zero guards up.

Was he happy back then?

Or... was he just a world-class actor from day one?

I followed his shadow as he walked toward the old campus cafeteria.

He ordered the stir-fry he used to love. But after two bites, he stopped.

He sat there, staring down at his plate, his fingers shaking around the chopsticks.

His throat moved as if he were trying to swallow a massive lump.

I floated across from him and smiled bitterly.

"What, Silas? Thinking about Bianca? Do you wish it was her sitting here instead of my memory?"

Suddenly, tears started streaming down his face so fast he couldn't stop them. He let out a muffled sob.

He stood up abruptly, grabbed the box, and practically ran out of the building.

He fumbled with his keys and threw himself into the car.

As soon as the door slammed, he buried his face in the steering wheel. His shoulders were shaking violently.

I was stunned.

Was he... crying? For me?

But then I realized how stupid that was.

He couldn't be crying for me.

He hated me so much he threw me away like trash. He wouldn't be mourning me now.

He was probably just overwhelmed by the memories of the time when he still had Bianca.

After all, she was the only one he ever truly loved.