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The word “Wife” glared on the screen.
Just then, Chloe burst into my countyard, “Liam, let's go hiking! The sunset is gorgeous.”
She pointed toward the lush green mountains in the distance.
It'd been so long since I'd been in nature, and the idea was instantly appealing.
I glanced at the darkening sky. “But if we go now, the return trip will be in the dark.”
Chloe gave a sly smile.
She opened her backpack—inside, a small tent, blankets, everything we'd need.
I smiled too. I packed some essentials and set off with Chloe.
Stepping out, I realized—I'd just ignored Evelyn's call for the first time.
Halfway up the mountain, Evelyn texted:
[Liam, had enough yet?]
I read it and didn't reply.
Seven years revolving around Evelyn had made me a hollow title—Mr. Evelyn, a puppet whose strings were entirely in her hands.
Now, finally awake, I wanted to love myself more in the years ahead.
Noticing I wasn't taking calls or replying to texts, Chloe leaned in and whispered secretly.
“Hey, just so you know—I ran away too. If they ever come for me, you have to rescue me, okay?”
She was so kind.
Sharing her own vulnerability to calm my unsettled heart.
It reminded me of my younger, more naive self.
“Yeah, I'll protect you then.”
Her smile widened, and she looped her arm through mine.
The sunset from the mountaintop was indeed stunning. A golden glow bathed the peaks, the pine trees, the leaves—everything was serene and warm.
Chloe set up the tent effortlessly while I fumbled around, holding one side and forgetting the other.
She pulled out her sketchpad, her expression lively. Watching her paint the sunset staining the sky, I sighed sincerely:
“So beautiful!”
Chloe looked up seriously, “sunrises are even prettier. They represent vitality, life force. It's a kind of shock that breaks through constraints..”
Her words struck me.
Sunsets are beautiful, but sunrises—they bring rebirth, something unforgettable.
Seeing the vitality in her painting stirred memories of my own glorious past. I was only 26. My future was long. It was time for me to seek my own rebirth, to reclaim the proud man I once was.
Lost in thought, I looked up at the sky—a meteor streaked across.
I pointed excitedly, “Look, a shooting star!”
But Chloe yelled, “Don't move!”
I froze, only able to watch her from the corner of my eye.
She swiftly moved her brush. Understanding her intention, I held my pose.
Fifteen minutes later, I shook my sore arm. She proudly waved the finished painting.
We smiled at each other. Inside the painting and out here in reality, the night was equally beautiful.
