Chapter 27: End of Story

According to insiders, Sophia couldn't hold back after receiving that "grand gift" and caused a scene in Anderson's office.

Rumors spread faster than viruses; that afternoon, Sophia left early and never returned to the company.

As Eldoria gradually transitioned into autumn, the cicadas that had been a nuisance all summer long quietly disappeared.

It had been a month since Michael last saw Emily; their only communication was through texts and phone calls, separated by an invisible yet palpable wall.

As for that secret, sultry and damp, they buried it deep in the ground.

Divorce by mutual consent was just four simple words, but executing it was far from easy, especially when one party was uncooperative.

Without informing Emily, Michael went to confront Anderson.

Pent-up anger left unexpressed is never satisfying.

Man to man, the solution was straightforward: fists did the talking.

A refined scoundrel in a suit was no match for a streetwise bruiser. Although Anderson knew he was in the wrong, he still lashed out in anger after being beaten, ultimately betraying Amanda again.

Blood seeping from his lips, his suit marked with mud prints, Anderson still had the gall to mock Michael, suggesting he should manage Amanda's promiscuity instead of taking out his anger on him.

Anderson revealed that Amanda had come to him several times after the affair was exposed, crying and seeking comfort. He also insinuated that Amanda had more than one lover, daring Michael to hunt them all down.

Michael took a hit as well, his mouth bleeding. He spat a bloody mess near Anderson's legs, smiled menacingly, and patted Anderson on the shoulder, thanking him.

This beating was not in vain; Michael had recorded every word Anderson said.

When the Yang family visited the Ye family again, Michael rushed to the scene and played the recording for everyone.

Michael's usually gentle mother, who had previously interceded on Amanda's behalf, was so enraged that she demanded the Yangs never come near them again.

Michael personally conducted a thorough purge, packing all of Amanda's belongings into boxes and sending them back to her, thus ending their relationship.

He reported this to Emily during a voice call, and she, having heard about his fight with Anderson, only asked, "Were you hurt?"

Finding Emily's address wasn't hard; resisting the urge to visit her was.

Starting with the cookies he received for his birthday, Michael quickly located the hidden community bakery.

—He remembered joking with Emily in the rented Toyota, saying that if the shop went bankrupt, they could switch careers to become detectives tracking down unfaithful spouses and debtors.

From a café across the street, Michael finally spotted that familiar figure.

But instead of approaching, he hid in the café's restroom.

Uncertain of his standing in Emily's heart, he knew she could decisively sever ties with Anderson and with him.

Emily was warm and soft to the touch but had a core of steel. Once she made a decision, no one could change her mind.

Michael knew what Emily wanted. Their relationship was too complicated, driven by impure desires, and not what Emily desired.

She needed time to adapt to her new life and work.

For now, romance was not on her agenda.

Michael knew what he wanted as well.

During the Lunar New Year, Michael's mother mentioned sending Amanda abroad, possibly by mid-year.

Michael considered calling Emily to wish her a happy new year, but she called him first, saying something significant had happened.

Sophia, it turned out, had left the company because she discovered she was pregnant.

A fierce woman, Sophia didn't tell Anderson and accepted money from him to "relax" back home. When she reappeared, heavily pregnant, she confronted Anderson's parents.

Upon learning this, Emily prepared to sue Anderson, demanding he leave with nothing.

She thanked Sophia for providing the evidence of Anderson's infidelity.

Two weeks later, Anderson's lawyer contacted Wang Shan, agreeing to Emily Johnson's terms for the divorce.

Wang Shan took the opportunity to increase the asset division, and Anderson conceded.

Apparently, Anderson's parents supported Sophia, urging their son to take responsibility.

Michael laughed until he cried, saying "like attracts like" and "the wicked will be punished by the wicked."

Three days after the Qingming Festival break, Michael received a message from Emily, inviting him to dinner.

This signaled the end of her months-long divorce ordeal.

May had been rainy, with a persistent gloom. The streets of Yide Road were uncharacteristically empty, the city's unique humid heat clinging and climbing from the ground up.

Michael stood at the shop's entrance, smoking, and sent Emily a message: "I'll take a rain check. When I'm starving, I'll come to you for a meal."

He wasn't foolish enough to attend a farewell dinner.

Emily replied, "Don't regret it then."

Michael dismissed her "threat," but a week later, he did regret it.

Emily left without a word.

A few days later, she posted a sketch of a storefront design, announcing her new life and work.

Many left comments, asking about the restaurant's location and opening date, or whether she would abandon her other work for the physical storefront. There were also numerous speculations about her personal life. Emily selectively replied to a few comments regarding the restaurant but ignored the rest.

Michael only learned of this from the social media update.

"Sis, this is too much!"

He laughed in exasperation, cursing at his phone, "Who moves house without a word? What, am I a monster?"

Emily felt wrongly accused, her volume unusually loud: "Hey, are you joking? I invited you for dinner, and you refused. Besides, I told you I'd move back home after the divorce. How's that 'without a word'?"

"Hmph… You always twist things your way. I never realized you were so sharp-tongued."

Michael muttered, opening a bottle of Vitaminwater with one hand, draining the last bit before cautiously asking, "So, you're staying at your brother's place now?"

"Yes, didn't I tell you before?"

"Oh… what are you doing now?"

"Now?" Emily was puzzled by the sudden change in topic but answered honestly, "Helping Jinjing, my niece, with her homework."

"Oh—" Michael drew out the word, "then carry on, I won't disturb you."

With that, he hung up.

Chewing on her pen, Jinjing waited for her aunt to put down the phone before asking, "Auntie, were you talking to Uncle?"

She heard a man's voice but couldn't understand the dialect. She sensed something different in her aunt's tone.

Emily hesitated, stammering, "No, just a friend."

Curious, Jinjing pressed, "Why didn't Uncle come back with you this time?"

The little girl, a second grader, was unaware of Emily and Anderson's separation.

"Uncle is abroad now." Emily cleared her throat, hastily spreading the workbook on the table, "Let's go over this problem…"

Her brother and sister-in-law were busy at the shop until late, and the housemaid couldn't help with homework. Thus, Emily took on this responsibility.

At 9:30 PM, Jinjing went to bed, her brother and sister-in-law returned, and Emily went to shower. Her phone vibrated continuously on the sink, like a feather teasing her throat.

She quickly rinsed off the foam, dripping wet, she rushed over and answered at the last second.

"Emily," Michael's voice was as deep as the night, "come to the gate of your community."

As Emily hurried downstairs, Teng Jie was making tea: "Sister, come have some tea—"

"No time! I'm heading out!" Emily declined as she ran towards the door.

Before he could ask where she was going, the door slammed shut.

He scratched his head, thinking her behavior seemed familiar, like when she was in high school, rushing to meet a crush.

Michael made sure to discard the empty bottle from the car. After driving for hours, his tailbone ached, so he stretched before stepping out.

Emily's throat burned from running. As she reached the gate, she saw Michael leaning against his car. The car's lights illuminated him, making his features indistinguishable, the occasional passing vehicle casting fragmented red light on his resolute outline.

Catching her breath, Emily slowed down, asking softly, "Why didn't you tell me you were coming? When did you leave? Have you eaten?"

Michael squinted, using the fleeting light to study her. Ignoring her barrage of questions, he suddenly pinched her cheek.

This time he used force, making Emily yelp and smack his shoulder, "That hurt! Why did you do that?"

"For leaving without a word." Michael huffed, his fingers softening, thumb gently rubbing the red mark, "Emily, what am I to you? Even as friends, you should've told me about such a big move."

His fingers carried a faint scent of tobacco, warm and rough, igniting even in the humidity. The childish pinch felt both intimate and ambiguous. Emily unconsciously nuzzled his fingers, muttering, "Stop playing the victim… I didn't block you, gave you my new number. Look, you even know where I live. I have no secrets from you."

His eyes, hidden behind glasses, gleamed with a feigned innocence.

Michael pouted, thinking she was a master at playing coy.

Fresh from her shower, she carried a milky scent, her hair half-dried. This familiar warmth took Michael back to last summer.

It wasn't déjà vu; he had never forgotten.

Their closeness now was free from the confines of a car or the shadows of fake plants, no longer hidden in sunless soil.

"I don't care, I'm hurt."

Michael brushed her damp hair behind her ear, mimicking that night, gently tapping her earlobe, silently seeking her permission.

His exaggerated tone complained, "You have no idea, when I saw your post hours ago, it hurt so much."

Under the tree's shade, they stood close, hearts audible in the silence.

Emily took a deep breath, tugging at Michael's shirt hem, her tone serious: "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, but I have my own plans—"

Michael, impatient, interrupted, "I know you have your own ideas, I just…"

He stepped closer, loosely encircling her, bending low, his chin heavily resting on her shoulder, his voice raw, "I just missed you."

At their age, love and like were not easily expressed. Yet he sped hundreds of kilometers, like a teenager, chasing the memory's taste.

His voice, soaked in emotion, sounded like a lonely dog's howl in the wilderness.

Uncontrollably, Emily's heart free-fell, the rapid descent quickening her pulse, making her dizzy. She sighed inwardly, knowing she was lost.

She pushed at Michael's chest, signaling him to stand straight: "Wait, let me finish…"

Michael, slightly taken aback, stepped back, looking down at her.

Oddly, near Michael, her moisture seemed to evaporate faster. She licked her dry lips, saying, "You said you saw my post, but did you read my replies?"

At this, Michael quickly opened the car door: "I didn't rest on the highway, didn't check my phone. What did you post? Wait, let me get my phone."

Emily reached out and touched his forearm, "No need to get it, I'll tell you directly."

Someone had asked Emily why she wanted to open a small restaurant.

Emily replied that it had always been a dream of hers. She wanted a place to host the family and friends who meant the most to her, and who valued her in return.

Adjusting her glasses, she softly said, "I planned to invite you as one of my first guests once the restaurant opens. But I'm not sure when that will be, maybe six months, maybe a year—"

Michael, eager and impatient, pulled her close, lifting her chin as if to kiss her.

Silly man, if her future plans included him, then waiting was never an issue.

Suddenly remembering something, Michael paused, grinning, "If I kiss you now, will you slap me again?"

He laughed, a sound like a child finally getting his candy, and Emily retorted playfully, "Why don't you try and find out?"

With a deep, intense gaze, Michael lowered his head, pressing his lips to hers.

They kissed by the roadside, indifferent to the passersby.

Suddenly, the sound of cicadas filled the air, distracting Emily. She remembered that around this time last year, she had received a message from Michael amidst the same cicada chorus.

Back then, the cicadas had annoyed her, but now their song seemed much more pleasant.

The long-buried feelings began to surface, sprouting like green vines, climbing over an invisible wall.