After Nash left, he didn't contact me again.
We both skipped the dinner we had planned.
That night, I lay awake, spending the entire evening pondering what I should do going forward.
If I told Nash and explained everything, he would surely stay by my side, but for how long could I remain with him?
If I didn't tell Nash, letting the misunderstanding persist, I'd have to leave him for good, but how could I bear to do that?
Before I could come up with an answer, my mother called again.
My father's condition had worsened, and I needed to go to Europe immediately, hoping to see him one last time.
But I didn't get to see him for the last time.
By the time I arrived in Europe, my father had already passed away.
My mother aged dramatically in an instant.
At that moment, I finally knew what I had to do.
It took a week to handle all the arrangements for my father and bring his ashes back to the States.
During this time, Nash didn't contact me.