Chapter 295

Chapter 295

Serena took a sip of water. As she put the bottle down, something suddenly occurred to her.

"Clara's all alone in that hospital room. Are we just leaving her there?"

She wasn't actually concerned about Clara—she just felt that given Clara's state earlier, if something happened to her in the room, it would be hard to explain later.

Silas's brow furrowed immediately.

"Can we not talk about her?"

His voice was very low, his knuckles tapping twice on the sofa armrest, as if holding something back.

"If it weren't for her, I wouldn't have..."

The words caught in his throat.

Silas didn't continue.

Not because he didn't want to—he just had no right to.

Clara had lied, yes, but those five years of cold violence were his own doing.

No one had held a gun to his head forcing him not to come home, not to answer calls, not to ignore Serena's existence.

He believed whatever Luna said without even thinking to verify it.

Those five years—that was his choice.

Silas clenched his fist, nails digging into his palm.

Serena clearly realized what the rest of that sentence would have been.

What's past is past. Bringing it up again wouldn't change anything.

Those days wouldn't be erased just because Silas said something now.

The room fell silent for a long time.

Until Silas spoke first.

"What exactly happened between us back then?"

"There are things I can't remember no matter how hard I try. My mind is full of fragments that won't fit together."

Serena's hand holding the water bottle paused.

She didn't answer right away.

Silas straightened up a bit on the sofa, looking at her.

"Can you tell me about it? From the beginning."

Serena was silent for a few seconds.

"There's nothing worth telling. You don't need to worry about the past anymore."

The words came out light and casual.

But to Silas's ears, they weighed more than anything.

She said "don't need to worry anymore."

She was telling him: you don't need to know, because it doesn't matter anymore.

Silas's face went pale.

His chest felt so tight he couldn't breathe.

"Serena."

He called her name.

"Can you tell me? Please?"

Serena looked up and met his eyes.

Silas's voice was low, carrying a note of pleading.

"Starting from how we met?"

Serena looked at him for a while.

"College."

She spoke after all, her voice calm.

"Second semester of freshman year. I transferred to your department."

Silas didn't interrupt, listening quietly.

"You were in student council then, responsible for showing new transfer students around. On my first day of registration, you were waiting for me at the academic affairs office entrance, holding transfer materials. I was twenty minutes late. You didn't say anything, just handed me the materials and left."

Serena's lips moved slightly at this point.

"I thought you were pretty cold back then. Full of yourself."

Silas was taken aback.

"Later I realized you weren't full of yourself—you just didn't like talking to people."

Serena leaned back against the sofa, her gaze falling on empty space, as if lost in memory.

"Sophomore year, the department threw a party. A bunch of people were playing truth or dare. You got picked—dare."

She paused.

"They made you kiss one of the girls there."

Silas's breathing hitched slightly.

"You walked over and, in front of everyone, kissed me."

When Serena said this, her tone was still calm, but she didn't notice her fingertip lightly rubbing the water bottle cap.

"I was completely stunned. Everyone was watching."

Silas's Adam's apple bobbed.

"Afterward you told me you'd been noticing me for a while, that you didn't pick me because of the dare. You said you wanted to date me and asked me to think about it."

Serena finally smiled.

The smile was faint, gone in a flash.

"You were really clumsy at pursuing someone back then. Every day you'd save the seat next to where I studied, wouldn't say anything, just sit there reading. When I went to class, you'd be in the back row. When I went to the library, you'd go too. When I ate, you'd follow."

"Even my roommate couldn't stand it anymore. She came and asked me who that guy following you around all the time was."

Silas said nothing.

He just sat there, listening to Serena talk.

His mind was completely blank—he couldn't remember any of those scenes.

But his chest kept aching and swelling, a feeling he couldn't quite describe.

"So how did we end up together?" he asked.

Serena thought for a moment.

"Once there was a huge rainstorm. I didn't have an umbrella. You ran from the guys' dorm—four buildings over—to bring me one. When you got there, you were completely soaked, water dripping from your hair."

"I asked if you didn't have an umbrella yourself. You said there was only one."

Silas couldn't help but nod slightly.

"I stood in the hallway with the umbrella, didn't leave, just watched you run back. You ran a couple steps, then turned around again."

Serena paused.

"You said, 'Serena, if you don't say yes, I'll get soaked in the rain every day until you feel sorry for me.'"

Silas's fingers clenched tight.

"So I said yes."

She said it casually, but Silas's eyes stung.

He could picture that scene.

That guy was him.

But now he couldn't remember any of it.

"Junior year you started a business, pulled together some classmates to work on a project. You worked around the clock, often forgot to eat, so I brought you food every day. That crappy workspace of yours didn't even have heat—it was freezing in winter. I knitted you a scarf. It was so ugly you were embarrassed to wear it outside, but you secretly wore it in the workspace."

After saying this, Serena paused herself.

She hadn't expected to remember so clearly.

Those things she thought she'd forgotten completely were actually still there all along.

Just buried under the coldness and pain of those five years that came after, covered up completely.

She collected herself, her voice becoming flat again.

"Later your startup succeeded, the company grew bigger and bigger. The year we graduated, you proposed to me—in the same place where you first kissed me."

She stopped there, suddenly going silent.

Because the rest of the story wasn't so pleasant to hear.

The room fell quiet again.

Silas leaned back on the sofa, not moving for a long time.

His hand rested on his knee, the knuckles on the back of his hand turning white.

When Serena looked up at him, she saw his jaw clenched tight, his Adam's apple rolling up and down several times.

"What about after that?" Silas's voice was very low, almost inaudible.

"You don't need to know what came after."

Serena didn't avoid his gaze, but she had no intention of continuing.

"Just knowing this is enough—we met in college, you pursued me, we got married, we had Aria."

She stood up and brushed off her pants.

"The rest—you can remember it yourself."

Silas sat on the sofa without moving.

He watched Serena walk toward the door, something lodged in his throat that wouldn't go up or down.

He'd heard every word she said.

But the more he heard, the worse he felt.

Because those scenes were too good.

So good he didn't dare imagine how he'd destroyed it all with his own hands later.