Chapter 122 The Memory of His Kisses

Chapter 122 The Memory of His Kisses


Brian turned the little white pill container over one last time before slipping it carefully into his jacket pocket.

Then he let out a slow breath. "I'll keep digging."

I looked up at him.

"I think we're getting somewhere." He sounded confident. "I'll find something."

I immediately grabbed his wrist before he could walk away. "Brian."

He looked down at my hand before meeting my eyes. "What?"

"You have to be careful."

His eyebrows lifted.

"I mean it." I tightened my grip slightly.

"Miranda isn't playing around anymore. You've already gotten involved enough." I paused.

"If she realizes you're investigating her..."

I couldn't even finish the sentence.

The possibilities alone terrified me. "I don't want something happening to you too."

For a second, Brian simply stared at me.

Then a crooked grin slowly spread across his face. "Oh?"

He puffed his chest out dramatically. "So you finally care about me."

I rolled my eyes. "That's not what I said."

"I heard concern." He placed a hand over his heart theatrically. "I'm touched."

I sighed. "I'm serious."

"So am I." He smirked. "I was literally made for danger."

He spread both arms confidently.

"This face?" He pointed at himself. "It attracts trouble."

I frowned harder. "Brian."

"This brain?" He tapped his forehead proudly. "Built for undercover work."

I continued staring at him.

He added with a grin, "And these handsome looks?"

"They're just bonuses."

I couldn't help it, I gave him the flattest look imaginable.

"Are you done?"

He looked at my expression and then he burst out laughing.

"What?"

"Nothing." He shrugged.

I folded my arms. "You sound ridiculous."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"I'll still take it."

Despite myself, the corner of my mouth twitched upward.

Only Brian and Kyle could somehow squeeze jokes into moments like these but my smile disappeared almost immediately because reality returned just as quickly.

Brian noticed.

His grin faded too. "Go see Dylan."

I looked away.

"I mean it." He continued quietly. "Go see him."

I stared down at my dirty hands. "I..."

"He needs you."

I shook my head. "He doesn't."

"He does."

"I don't think so." Brian sighed. "You keep saying that."

"Because it's true."

He stepped in front of me again so I couldn't avoid his eyes. "You're just scared."

Of course I was scared.

"Reet." His voice had become unusually gentle. "If you don't try, you'll regret it."

I didn't answer.

Silence stretched between us.

Just then, the sanitation worker returned.

"Hey." He smiled politely. "We have to continue."

I blinked before realizing we'd been standing beside the trash bin far longer than we'd promised.

"Oh! I'm sorry." I immediately smiled apologetically. "Thank you so much."

The man nodded kindly. "No problem, I hope you found what you were looking for."

"I did." I bowed my head slightly. "Thank you."

He waved before rolling the large waste bin toward the truck.

Brian and I stepped aside.

As we walked away, Brian suddenly wrinkled his nose dramatically.

"Oh."

I looked at him. "What?"

He stared at my hands. "...Those hands."

I blinked. "What about them?"

"They've officially touched things no human should ever touch."

I looked down at my hands and laughed quietly. "You helped."

"I regret helping." He examined his own fingers with exaggerated horror. "I need industrial-strength soap."

I snorted. "You'll survive."

"I'm not sure."

"I think I touched someone's expired cabbage."

I laughed a little louder. "It builds character."

"It builds diseases."

That made me laugh again. "You complain too much."

"I complain appropriately."

He held up his palms. "Look at these, they're victims."

I shook my head.

"You know..." I smiled faintly. "You could come inside."

He looked at me.

"We obviously have soap and water, you can wash your hands."

He gasped dramatically. "Are you inviting me over?"

I rolled my eyes again. "I'm inviting you to clean your hands."

He pretended to think deeply. "Hmm, I suppose I shall graciously accept."

"What a sacrifice."

"I know." He sighed theatrically. "I'm truly a hero."

I laughed under my breath as we crossed the short path toward the tiny house.

The familiar creak of the front gate echoed softly.

Brian stepped inside and immediately looked around.

His eyebrows slowly climbed upward. "So..." He dragged the word out. "This..."

He turned in a slow circle. "Is the inside."

I folded my arms. "Yes."

"Hm." He looked toward the tiny living room.

Then the narrow hallway.

Then the compact dining area.

"It's..." He searched for the right word. "...small."

I stared at him. "Very observant."

He ignored my sarcasm. "I mean..." He continued looking around. "I knew it was small from outside."

"But inside?" He whistled softly. "It somehow became even smaller."

I couldn't help shaking my head. "You don't have to insult my house."

"I'm not insulting it." He quickly corrected.

"I'm appreciating efficient architecture."

I laughed. "What does that even mean?"

"It means..." He spread both arms. "If you sneeze too hard, you'll accidentally clean the entire house."

I shoved his shoulder lightly. "Stop it."

He chuckled. "But..." His smile softened.

"It's manageable."

There wasn't any mockery in his voice anymore.

"It feels..." He nodded slowly. "Comfortable."

Something inside me eased a little. "Thanks."

We headed toward the tiny sink.

The sound of running water filled the quiet house.

When we finally dried our hands, Brian picked up his jacket.

"I should go."

I nodded. "I know."

He reached the front door, stopped, and looked back one last time. "Think about what I said."

I already knew what he meant.

"Dylan."

I lowered my eyes. "I will."

He studied me for another second and quietly left.

The front door clicked shut behind him and just like that, the house became silent again.

I stood in the middle of the living room for what felt like forever because my mind refused to stay still.

Brian's words echoed endlessly.

"Go see Dylan."

"He needs you."

"You'll regret it."

I walked into my bedroom and sat on the edge of my bed. Then stood again almost immediately.

I paced back and forth.

I kept imagining Dylan alone in that enormous mansion.

Was he sleeping?

Was he drinking again?

Had he eaten anything?

Did he hate me?

Would he even open the door if I went?

I buried my face inside my hands. "I don't know..."

I whispered to myself. "I don't know what to do..."

Minutes passed.

Eventually and almost without thinking, I suddenly stood up and before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed my hoodie from the chair and pulled it over my head and hurried outside.

The night air slapped against my face the second I stepped outdoors.

It was colder than I'd expected.

I wrapped my arms around myself while walking quickly toward the roadside.

A taxi slowed beside me.

"Where to?" The driver asked.

I quietly gave him the mansion's address.

Later, I got there, got out, and paid the driver.

The enormous gates stood exactly as I remembered them.

But I stood several feet away unable to move.

I stared at the place that had once felt almost like home.

Then I heard voices.

I instinctively looked toward the entrance and saw Vanessa and Dylan’s father walking out of the house side by side.

The two of them stood near the entrance talking.

I couldn't hear a single word from where I was standing.

Without thinking, I hurried behind a nearby tree holding my breath.

Their conversation continued for another minute.

When Vanessa nodded to something he said, a satisfied smile briefly crossed her face.

Then she turned and walked toward her expensive car.

The headlights flashed on and then she drove away.

Dylan's father watched the car disappear before turning around and stepping back inside the mansion.

The large doors closed.

Only then did I slowly step out from my hiding place.

I stared at the mansion for a very long time with an aching chest.

Part of me wanted to run inside but instead, I simply stood there like a mannequin.

I smiled sadly to myself. "So..." My voice barely rose above a whisper. "Good luck tomorrow."

I swallowed a little. "You can do it."

My eyes burned as a cool breeze brushed against my face.

I looked at the mansion one final time and quietly turned around.

Another taxi carried me back home.

The next morning, a persistent hand gently shook my shoulder.

"Reet."

I groaned into my pillow. "Mmm..."

Another shake. "Reet, wake up."

I frowned without opening my eyes.

"Mom, it's too early." My voice came out muffled against the pillow. "Five more minutes."

"No." Her voice carried an unusual excitement mixed with urgency. "You need to see this."

I let out another sleepy groan. "What is it?"

"You'll see."

I reluctantly peeled one eye open.

The morning sunlight was already slipping through the thin curtains of my room, painting faint golden lines across the blanket. My body felt heavy, almost as though I hadn't slept at all.

Which... I hadn't.

I'd spent the entire night turning from one side of the bed to the other, replaying everything that had happened between Dylan and me.

I rubbed my face lazily. "What is so important?"

Instead of answering, my mother simply held her phone toward me.

I blinked at the bright screen.

For a second, my sleepy brain couldn't process what I was looking at.

Then the camera zoomed across a large soccer stadium.

Crowds filled every seat.

Commentators' voices echoed from the tiny speakers.

The scoreboard appeared briefly on the screen.

My eyes widened. "What..." I suddenly sat upright. "...the game?"

I practically snatched the phone from her hands. "It's live?"

I stared at the screen in complete surprise.

Players were already jogging across the field.

The camera panned over the crowd.

Banners.

Cheering students.

School colors everywhere.

I looked back at my mother. "I... I didn't even know they were broadcasting it live."

She smiled faintly. "Neither did I."

She sat beside me on the bed. "It just appeared while I was scrolling."

I looked back at the phone.

The commentators were enthusiastically discussing both schools. The atmosphere inside the stadium looked electric.

Dylan was probably getting ready.

The realization made my stomach tighten and my fingers unconsciously gripped the phone tighter.

Mom quietly watched my face. "The match is about to start."

I nodded absentmindedly. "I know."

Silence lingered between us for a few seconds.

"Are you going?" She asked gently.

I slowly looked at her. "Going?"

"To the game."

The question caught me completely off guard.

I looked back down at the screen as the camera briefly showed Brookwood's side of the stadium.

Students were already chanting.

Some waved giant school flags.

Others held posters.

Part of me wanted to be there because I wanted to see Dylan and wanted to know if he was okay with my own eyes.

Wanted to know whether Brian had exaggerated or if Dylan truly looked as broken as he'd described.

But another part of me, didn't think I deserved to be there anymore.

I slowly handed my mother her phone back. "I won't go."

She studied me quietly. "You've already decided?"

I nodded. "I shouldn't."

"Why not?"

I forced out a weak smile. "We broke up."

"So?"

I blinked.

She continued softly, "That doesn't stop you from caring."

I lowered my gaze. "It should."

"It doesn't."

She reached over and gently squeezed my hand. "Reet."

I remained silent.

"You can still attend."

Her voice became gentler. "You don't have to sit beside him."

"You don't even have to talk to him."

"You could simply..." She smiled sadly. "Watch."

I stared at the blanket covering my legs.

If I saw him…

Would I run to him?

Would I cry?

Would I apologize?

Would he even want to see me?

I swallowed painfully.

"No," I whispered. "I can't."

My mother sighed quietly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

She searched my face for another few seconds before nodding. "If that's what you want."

I stood from the bed before I could change my mind. "I should shower."

She gave a small nod. "Okay."

I walked toward the bathroom, each step feeling strangely heavy.

When the door clicked shut behind me, I leaned against it for a moment.

Then I reached for the shower handle, just as I was about to step beneath the water, her voice came through the door.

"Reet?"

I looked toward the door. "Yes?"

She hesitated for a brief moment. "You know… I've been thinking."

I rested my forehead briefly against the cool bathroom tiles.

"About what?"

"About Dylan."

My chest twisted instantly.

I didn't answer.

She continued anyway. "I still remember the day of my accident."

Images flashed through my mind immediately.

Her gentle voice continued through the door. "He stayed there."

I closed my eyes.

"He even helped take me to the hospital."

Her voice carried quiet appreciation. "I don't think I'll ever forget that."

Yeah.

Neither would I.

She sighed softly. "He's a good boy."

Her words lingered in the silence.

"A really good boy."

I bit my lower lip to stifle my emotions.

"He's nothing like his father."

A lump formed inside my throat. "I know."

I whispered so quietly I wasn't sure she'd even heard me.

"You chose someone kind." She continued. "I still believe that."

Another painful silence settled between us.

"I only wanted to protect you." She added gently. "But I never wanted you to stop seeing the good in him."

My eyes burned. "I know, Mom."

Her footsteps slowly moved away from the bathroom door.

Then I finally stepped beneath the shower.

The cool water immediately ran through my hair and down my naked body.

Then the memory of Dylan’s kiss clouded my head like a stubborn fog.

I squeezed my eyes shut harder. "No."