35 The Car Accident

Gemma's POV.

After a long while, the dial tone finally sounds on the phone.

I try calling Jacob again, but no one answers.

I send long messages hoping he will let me explain, but Jacob still doesn't reply.

He has completely disappeared.

For a whole week, just as I think my third relationship will end this way, Jacob calls me.

"Let's talk," he says.

I agree.

We meet outside my building.

"I didn't know you two were still neighbors," he says, looking into my eyes.

After a week of not seeing him, he seems to have lost weight.

"It's just a coincidence," I pause. "The apartment I bought just happens to be here. I had no idea he lived next door. But now I'm paying off the mortgage every month, so I can't just move out..."

Jacob nods slightly, "So what do you want to do now?"

I freeze. I don't know what to do either.

"I originally thought the only issue between us was that you didn't see me as someone worthy of pursuing you. But that's not the case. The biggest issue between us is Luke," Jacob says softly.

"You two are neighbors and often see each other at work. I respected your job before, so I didn't say anything. But now, it seems like this is a barrier in our relationship."

"Do you really think that?" I look down at my toes.

"It's not about what I think, it's the reality," Jacob replies.

"But what can I do?" My voice is a little tired. " I looked all over New York to find this apartment. It's small, with a tiny balcony, but I love it. And my job — in these years of economic downturn, unemployment is everywhere. Finding a new job is really hard..."

"I've made the decision for you," Jacob interrupts me.

"Come with me to Chicago. I can buy you a new place there, bigger and more luxurious than this. As for your job, my family's connections can solve everything for you—"

Jacob takes out a plane ticket and hands it to me.

I look at the ticket, then at Jacob's face.

Jacob steps forward and pushes the ticket into my hand.

"Gemma, even though things didn't go as smoothly as I imagined, at least we've had a real relationship. I have no regrets. For a while now, we've been fooling ourselves, maintaining this illusion of happiness, and a lot of that comes from my own insecurity... We can't go on like this."

I nod. Yes, we can't go on like this.

"So I need you to make a choice," Jacob says softly. "There are still twenty days before the Independence Day holiday. During that time, I won't disturb you. I just hope you'll take the time to think carefully, about whether... you're willing to be with me."

Jacob's hair shimmers gently under the streetlight. "If you're want, come to the airport on the day of the holiday, and we'll leave together. If you don't come, I won't... trouble you anymore."

Silence spreads through the air.

Before leaving, he steps forward to hug me and places a kiss on my cheek.

"I'll be waiting for your decision," he whispers in my ear, then lets me go and walks away, disappearing from my sight.

I stand frozen in place. I don't know how long it's been, but there seems to be a rustling sound in the bushes by the roadside.

I look toward the sound, but there's nothing there.

It's probably just a stray cat.

I lower my head and slowly walk back home.

Twenty days, 480 hours, 28,800 minutes, 1,728,000 seconds.

I place the plane ticket to Chicago on my bedside table, where I can see it every morning when I open my eyes and every night before I fall asleep.

I keep thinking back to how I met Jacob and realize that he is a good man.

Born into wealth, he was a bit temperamental at first, but he managed to stick with his job as a waiter for over half a year.

We met because of a negative review, then I pretended to be his girlfriend to help him reject an arranged marriage. Now, we've become a real couple.

Most importantly, unlike Luke, Jacob loves me.

The twenty days pass quickly. On Independence Day, I stare at the ticket, hesitating about whether I should go with him.

The flight is scheduled for 6 p.m., and it's only 4 p.m. now, so I still have plenty of time.

I curl up in bed, burying my head in the pillow as a dull headache throbs at my temples.

At this moment, a knock echoes at the door.

I walk to the living room to answer it, and there stands Luke.

"What's up?" I ask.

"The power's out at my place. How about yours?"

I flip the switch for the ceiling light and glance up. "It's okay."

"No tripped breakers, so it's probably a blown fuse," Luke pauses. "I'm not sure when the maintenance crew will come by. Do you have any candles, just in case?"

"Hold on." I turn to grab some candles.

But in the next second, the door behind me slams shut.

A force yanks me to the couch, pinning me down, and Luke presses on top of me. I can't move.

"Are you insane?!" I shout.

Luke grips my shoulders. "Don't go to the airport. I can't let you go."

"It was you listening in the bushes that day?!"

"It was me, Gemma."

"Let me go," I warn him quietly. "Luke, I'll say it one last time. Let me go!"

Luke stays silent, like a heavy, lifeless stone crushing me.

I open my mouth and bite into his shoulder.

In the summer heat, Luke is only wearing a thin shirt, so my teeth easily sink into his flesh, and the metallic taste of blood spreads in my mouth.

Luke trembles slightly but holds his position. The only sound I hear is his breathing next to my ear.

Two full hours pass.

By the time the clock strikes six, and Luke finally releases me, the blood on his shoulder has already dried.

My phone rings, but it's not Jacob calling. I answer the call, then get up and head to the bedroom to pack my things.

"Where are you going?" Luke raises his voice.

"Airport."

"The plane to Chicago has already taken off!"

Without looking at him, I grab my backpack and head out the door. "I'm going back to California."

I book a ticket while in the taxi, taking the earliest flight home. By the time I reach the hospital, my dad is still in surgery. The police are waiting for me at the entrance and escort me to the elevator.

The red light outside the operating room glows bright, and my mom sits motionless on the bench, oblivious to my arrival.

"Your father was crossing the street near home when a car failed to yield. The police are now doing everything they can to track down the vehicle involved..."

I walk up to mom, and grip her shoulders to bring her back to reality. "Mom, look at me."

Her eyes are bloodshot.

"The police said the best doctors in the city are working on Dad's surgery. He's going to be fine, so please don't worry."

"Will he really be okay?" Her voice is mechanical and hoarse, as if she's frozen solid. "He was fine when he left the house, and now he's lying in that operating room."

I hug her tightly, realizing her exposed skin is ice-cold, from her face to her neck, and even her hands are stiff with the chill.

I hold her close, letting her rest against me.

The hospital's bright lights make me dizzy, and the voices of the police grow louder and blur into a white noise.

"It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay... The doctors are in there." I rub my cheek against hers, sharing my warmth. "I'm going to speak to the eyewitness now. You stay here and wait for me, okay? I'll be back soon."

The police told me there were no surveillance cameras at the scene of the accident, but luckily, there was a witness who managed to catch the license plate number.

Mom nods.

I squeeze her hand, kiss the back of it, and then follow the police.

The witness is in the ward.

"The young guy did great," the officer tells me. "Quick reflexes, too. When he saw the car about to hit your dad, he pulled him out of the way. Unfortunately, he ended up with a broken bone himself."

"I definitely need to thank him," I reply.

We approach the ward.

I push open the door, and in the next second, I see Dmitri's face on the hospital bed.