#1173 - can't answer
"Renly, now that you're back, will you leave again? Will you leave soon?"
Her tear-filled eyes glistened with an urgent light, reflecting the deep anxiety of someone caught between hope and despair. Renly saw the disappointment in her gaze—the sadness settling like a fine mist over her pupils. Slowly, Annie released his wrist and sank onto the bed, her small frame seeming to shrink. The smile that once curved her lips faded, and the dim light in her eyes mirrored her sinking spirit.
"I know. You're leaving anyway, aren't you?" she muttered softly.
"Annie—" Renly started, his voice gentle, yet he faltered, unsure of how to ease the pain in her heart. Words always felt so feeble in the face of parting.
"I know, I know everything," Annie continued, her voice trembling. "You think I don't understand, but I do."
Her lashes, weighed down with unshed tears, trembled as she spoke, her words heavy with sorrow.
"Dad is always with Karen. Every time he comes to the hospital, he hides away to talk to her. He laughs when he's on the phone with her, but when he turns to me, he's sad again. He doesn't like me. He never has. But why? Did I do something wrong? Is that why he left?"
Her voice cracked, but she pushed forward. "Dad left. Heather left. Alex left. And now Mom doesn't come anymore. Why? Why does everyone leave? Why can't we all stay together? I just want to grow up so I can be with the people I love and never be apart."
Her eyes shone with desperate longing, her lips quivering. "Now you're leaving too. Because of your dreams. You want to be the best actor in the world, and you can't stay with me, right? You have your own life. You can't just stay in the hospital with me while I grow up. I know that. I know."
Her voice dropped to a whisper, "But why am I always the one left behind? Am I the reason Mom left? Would she be happier if I weren't here? Would I stop being alone if I just... disappeared? Why does everyone leave me? Why?"
Her cries grew louder, though her tears stubbornly refused to fall. Her small hands clenched the blanket tightly as if grasping for something—someone—to hold onto. Her confusion and sadness wrapped around Renly's heart, squeezing it painfully.
Renly felt an overwhelming sorrow but didn't know how to ease her pain. Gently, he reached out and smoothed the furrow between her brows, offering a small smile.
"Annie, life is like a journey—long and winding."
He hesitated, realizing that Annie, though still a child, had already witnessed more of life's harsh realities than most her age. Pretending that everything was okay, sugarcoating the truth—none of that would work. She would see through the lies, and it would only deepen her despair.
So, though he knew it would be difficult, Renly decided to have an honest conversation with her.
"Everyone has their own journey to travel. Sometimes our paths cross, and we walk together for a while before parting ways. Some people leave early, some join us midway, and some stay with us for a long, long time—until one of us reaches the end of our journey."
His voice softened. "Everyone has to walk their own path. Sometimes alone, sometimes with others. If we're lucky, we might find someone who will walk with us for the rest of our lives. But even if we don't, the moments we share along the way become our most precious memories."
Renly swallowed hard before continuing. "Just like Heather. Her journey ended, but the time she spent with us remains, forever a part of our hearts. It's as if she never really left."
He ruffled Annie's hair gently. "This is something everyone has to face, no matter how difficult. Whether we walk alone or together, we each have our own journey to complete."
Annie stared at him, her sadness spilling over. "But... why can't I learn to accept it?" Her voice broke as she finally burst into tears. "I don't want Dad to leave. I don't want Heather to leave. I don't want you to leave! Am I too stupid? Is that why I can't learn?"
Her sobs shook her small frame, and Renly's heart ached. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He gently patted her back, his voice barely above a whisper.
"No, Annie. It's not because you're stupid. It's because it hurts. I haven't learned it either. Even now, I still don't know how to say goodbye."
At the door, Anita stood with a glass of water and some pills in her hands. She leaned against the wall, her face etched with sadness. After spending so much time in the hospital, she had convinced herself she had grown numb to grief. But at this moment, she realized she had merely buried the pain, not erased it.
Brushing away her tears, Anita stepped into the room and placed the items on the bedside table. She tapped Renly on the shoulder, shaking her head slightly. "Annie's emotions are too unstable today. If she keeps crying, her body will suffer."
Renly exhaled deeply, then whispered into Annie's ear. "This is one of the hardest lessons in life, and I'm still learning it too. You don't have to figure it all out now. We'll take it one step at a time—together."
Annie sniffled, her red-rimmed eyes searching his face. "Really?"
Renly nodded with a reassuring smile. "Really. Not forever. But at least for now."
He gently wiped away her tears. "You know, I want to be a great actor. I have to keep moving forward. But if you come with me, we can chase our dreams together."
Annie hesitated, then whispered, "Like Heather?"
Renly's heart clenched, but he kept his smile steady. "Yes, like Heather. But you can also find your own dream—just like Alex always dreamed of becoming someone important. You can choose your own path."
Annie wrinkled her nose. "I don't want to be like Alex. He's not even good-looking."
Renly and Anita exchanged glances before bursting into laughter. Anita leaned down and ruffled Annie's hair. "Then you can take your time to decide. But if you want to chase your dreams, you need to take care of yourself first. A strong body, a strong heart, and a strong soul—that's what makes a true dreamer."
She handed Annie the pills and a cup of water. Annie glanced at Renly, and after seeing the encouraging smile in his eyes, she took the medicine and swallowed it in one gulp. She then chugged the water, grinning triumphantly as if showing off her accomplishment.
Renly chuckled as she playfully waved the blanket. But as Annie caught sight of their amused expressions, she blushed and quickly curled up against Renly's chest.
Holding the frail little girl in his arms, Renly's heart ached.
For adults, childhood memories often fade into the distance, overshadowed by the burdens of growing up. But for children, every moment, every heartbreak, is immense and all-consuming. Their worlds are shaped by the people who stay—and the ones who leave.
Renly gently ran his fingers through Annie's hair. "Let's set up a secret communication line, just for us. If you ever miss me, send me a message or a video. I promise, as soon as I finish work, I'll reply."
Annie's eyes lit up instantly, glowing like a little sun.