Chapter 3

I didn't realize it until we got to the hospital: I have a rare, acute allergy to alcohol. Normally, kissing wouldn't trigger it, but I'm highly allergic, and even skin contact with alcohol can cause a reaction. The doctor asked how much I drank. I blushed and stammered. "J-just a sip?" I replied. Nathan's ears turned red too as he bent down to give me water. "I will not drink again," he sighed after the doctor left. "You're not allergic though," I said with a laughter. "But I want to kiss you anytime, anywhere," said Nathan, matter-of-factly. "Drinking just makes me want to kiss you more." But now, there's no one to protect me from the alcohol. As I lifted the beer to my lips, I glanced at Ryan, whose eyes were like Nathan's. I smiled at him and silently thought, Nathan, I miss you so much. As I drank the beer, I lifted my arm high, hiding the tears that streamed down my face. When Ryan carried me into the car, my consciousness was already blurry. My throat was so swollen that I could hardly make a sound. I couldn't help to laugh when I remembered how he got angry in the private room earlier. After three cups of drink, I felt very uncomfortable. I curled up in the corner of the sofa. Ryan remembered me and called my name, but I didn't move. He walked over, bent down to touch my hair and see my face. "Damn it. Are you allergic to alcohol?" asked Ryan, helping me up. I was in so much pain that I couldn't say a word. Ryan's friends gathered around. 'Get out,' commanded Ryan, in a low voice, full of anger and fierceness. Ryan picked me up and walked quickly outside. But Ryan, it was you who made me drink. It's also because of you that I ended up like this.Ryan lowered his head and got into the driver's seat, while I struggled to get up. "You...you've drunk...don't drive..." my voice was so hoarse and I was panting hard. "I don't care," he said without paying attention to my words, and he got into the car. Ryan's friends also came out and chased after him. One of his friends stood in front of the car and knocked on the window, asking him to get out. "Get out of the way," replied Ryan, coldly. I could feel that something was off with him. He revved up the engine. The sound was deafening. "If you don't move," he said, sneering with red eyes, "I'll crash into you too." "Ryan, don't mess around. You promised your mom...you did this last time too..." his friend's expression turned serious. He looked at me and stopped speaking. "I feel really sick...let someone else drive..." I pleaded, closed my eyes, and weakly pulled on his sleeve. Finally, Ryan compromised. "Only Mrs Johnson really knows how to handle Ryan," said his friend while driving the car. I moved my lips a little to show my response. I buried my face even deeper. Ryan's face also gradually calmed down.On the way to the hospital, maybe the road was not very stable. The car bumped a bit. I was already feeling uncomfortable, and the bump made me even more nauseous. Suddenly, Ryan pulled me over and pressed me down, with my head fixed on his lap. "Lie down, don't move," he said. I tried to open my badly swollen eyes to see his expression. But he covered my eyelids with his palm. His palm was icy cold, and the swelling in my eyes eased a bit. "If you sway again," he cursed ahead, "I'll kick you off." I did't know if it was a coincidence, but we met the same doctor as last time when we arrived at the hospital. The doctor even recognized me and was a little angry. "Girl, don't you value your life? Do you know that your alcohol allergy symptoms are severe? Do you know that if you had come any later, you would have needed rescuing? I warned you and your boyfriend last time, young people these days..." said the doctor. I lowered my head and didn't say a word. The infusion was flowing too fast, and my veins were cold and painful. The doctor scolded me and then scolded Ryan. I was about to speak when I saw Ryan standing there with his hands in his pockets, obediently taking the scolding.I felt a bit dazed. Ryan, a rich second-generation who had been spoiled since childhood and had developed a bad temper as a result. No one dared to speak harshly to him. He even went crazy sometimes, behaving as if he didn't care about his loved ones. But now, his brow was furrowed with less surliness on his face. He listened attentively to the doctor's instructions and explanations. Perhaps he was feeling guilty? His calm demeanor made him look more like Nathan. Oh, my Nathan. At all times, his eyes were bright and warm. His eyes were slightly curved. His hair was light and chestnut-colored in the sunlight. His hair was fluffy and warm, with his bangs raised, just like a golden retriever's.I told Ryan to go back first because I needed to be hospitalized. He leaned against the window. The gentle moonlight seemed to wash away his surliness. He lowered his head and held a cigarette in his mouth. He paused when he was about to light it. "Have you been hospitalized before because of alcohol allergy?" asked Ryan. I nodded my head. The bedside lamp in the ward was dim, and my eyes were still a little swollen, so I couldn't see his expression clearly. "So, did you try to kill yourself today, or did you want me to feel guilty?" asked Ryan with a chuckle.. "No," I shook my head and denied, "I just didn't want you to be unhappy on your birthday. A friend of mine once told me that every wish you make should be fulfilled on your birthday. Otherwise, the new year won't be smooth for you." Three years ago, Nathan asked me to make five wishes on my birthday. I asked him if I had too many wishes, and he said no, not at all. He said ten wishes were not enough. I asked him to marry me. "Claire, it's not my birthday today. Don't be too generous with me," said Nathan."Ha." "Superstitious," sneered Ryan, leaning by the window to catch the breeze. "Charlotte, don't do this again next time," he continued to say. "Just say you're allergic to alcohol. I'm not some heinous scoundrel." I said okay. But, Ryan, you are that kind of heinous scoundrel. Ryan stayed for a while before deciding to leave. I certainly didn't think that just relying on a hospitalization due to alcohol allergy could completely move a player like him. After Ryan left the hospital room. I sat up and reached out to remove the needle from my hand. Sharp pain radiated from my hand, the needle dangling with a few drops of blood flinging off. But I had a self-abusive sense of pleasure. This pain reminded me of who I was and where I was.When I was sick and hospitalized before, Nathan sat on the stool beside my bed and could sit there all night long. Occasionally, he touched my forehead and when I turned over, he tucked in my blanket for me. I wasn't originally a person who was overly coquettish, but because of Nathan, I became extra fond of being spoiled. I was in my twenties already, but I became increasingly delicate to the point where I didn't even want to twist off bottle caps, wouldn't drink my bubble tea if it was too cold, and refused to carry my own bag. When I was hospitalized with gastroenteritis that time, I was given intravenous fluid for three days and my hand was swollen from the IV. The injection into the vein was also very painful. It was winter, so Nathan borrowed a saline bag and went outside to fill it with hot water. He then wrapped it in a T-shirt and gently placed it on the back of my hand. I said he was like an old mother. "Can't I be your ‘old mother‘ for the rest of your life? Isn't a husband supposed to marry a wife and spoil her at home?" said Nathan, smiling, as he stroked my arm to relieve the pain caused by the medicine. I started laughing again. As I laughed, tears began to fall, making me look a bit crazy. A moth had somehow flown into the hospital room and was fluttering around the light. "Don't cry," a man's soft voice appeared from behind. It was Ryan, holding a food box and a bag, with a smell of cigarettes on him. He put down the things and saw the blood on my hand. Immediately, he pressed the nurse bell. The nurse left after fixing me up. Ryan sat on the sofa next to me, smirking. "Did you get so mad as soon as I left?" he asked. I shrank back into the covers and didn't say anything. "Are you angry that I didn't stay with you?" he asked again and pointed to the food box. "I've been out to get the porridge for you, do you want to eat it now? It's warm." "Why did you come back again?" I asked with a stuffy nose and a sore throat.Ryan was silent for a moment. "If I left while you were hospitalized because of me, wasn't that too inhumane?" he said. But for some reason today, I didn't want him to be with me at all. "Your new girlfriend today will be angry," I said. "You said that on purpose, didn't you?" asked Ryan, impatiently. I shut up. Ryan turned off the light. I heard the sound of the sofa creaking, and he lay down on it with his clothes on. Facing inward and back outward was a better position. Because he looked almost like Nathan from behind. I looked at Ryan for a while and then became drowsy. I had a very uncomfortable night's sleep, with all sorts of discomfort on my body. Tossing and turning, half asleep and half awake, I felt someone touching my forehead. I grabbed it and the nightmare stopped. I held onto that hand tightly, pressing it against my cheek. It seemed like I had shed a lot of tears again, and the pillow was wet.The next day, I woke up and realized that I had been holding onto Ryan's hand while I slept. He seemed to have had a difficult night too, leaning against the chair and nodding off repeatedly. I chuckled, and Ryan woke up with a start. He groaned and rubbed his neck, clearly in discomfort. I was surprised that Ryan, the wealthy young master, would be so accommodating to a patient like me. "I told you to go back," I teased. "If it weren't for your kicking and crying all night, would I have stayed?" retorted Ryan. Did I really sleep that restlessly last night? In fact, there were times when I was even more restless. During the time just after Nathan's death, I experienced sleepwalking episodes. I often went to the rooftop in the middle of the night and sat there. The security guards caught me several times, but for some reason, I never jumped off the building. In my dreams, Nathan grabbed my arm and stopped me from jumping. He said that he would never forgive me in his next life if I dared to jump. That was the first time I saw he angry at me, even though it was only in my dreams. His eyes were filled with an unbreakable sadness and fury."Ryan," I suddenly asked him, "what would you do if one day I completely disappeared from your life?" "What else can I do?" replied Ryan with a question instead, squinting and smiling. "Get a new one, of course," he then took a box of gum out of his pocket, threw it into his mouth, and bulged his cheeks. He's still such a jerk. I lifted the covers and sat up, taking all the keys and access cards from my clothes and putting them on the table. I pushed them towards him. "Let's break up, Ryan. I'm a bit tired," I said. I stood up, put on my shoes and grabbed my coat. "Ryan, I overestimated myself," I said softly.When I left the hospital room without looking back, I heard Ryan's footsteps, but I walked fast too. I quickly ran into the staircase and hid behind the door at the corner. I saw Ryan rushing past, he must have been chasing after me. Finally, he took the first step of falling into my trap. All the humiliations I endured while pretending to be with him during this time didn't matter anymore. I wanted to make him fall into hell with me. On the New Year's Eve three years ago, Nathan drove me to his home to celebrate the New Year. We were delayed due to work and some trivial matters and left too late. There were hardly any cars on the road at that time. I felt drowsy and dozed off in the passenger seat. Nathan reached out and turned down the volume of the music. "Claire, don't sleep too deeply, we're almost home," he said in a low, soothing voice. I muttered a few sounds in response. "My mom heard that you like to eat crabs, so she bought five pounds of big crabs for you..." he said with a chuckle. Before he could finish his sentence, he suddenly jerked the steering wheel. I felt weightless, and the car tumbled over several times.The car that caused the accident was a yellow Maserati. Our car flipped over. Nathan and I were hanging in our seats. Blood flowed from my lower jaw, blurring my vision. But I saw clearly, without a doubt, the young man who came out of the driver's seat. He walked unsteadily. Clearly, he had drunk too much. After seeing what happened, he stumbled toward our car. He even approached the car and bent down to check inside. In the chaos, he was about to pull our car door open. But a woman's voice stopped him. And someone pulled him away by his arm. But even with just a glance, I saw his appearance clearly.I quickly lost consciousness, while Nathan left me forever in that car accident, without even having the chance to say goodbye. I couldn't remember how I got through those days. I stayed up all night, holding my phone and reading the chat logs between Nathan and me before the accident. When I learned about the result of the accident investigation, I broke down even more. The hit-and-run driver was able to shift the blame onto someone else. The surveillance cameras on that road conveniently malfunctioned that night, so no footage was available from the time of the accident. The scapegoat was quickly sentenced to prison, and my testimony was not accepted. The person I pointed out had an alibi for that night. I appealed everywhere, but in the end, there was no result. One day, even my friends around me came to persuade me. "Claire, maybe this is all there is to it... What you accused is the Johnson Group, but they have connections all over the city," said my friend, handing me a newspaper. "Besides, that rich guy from their family has been involved in hit-and-runs more than once."I started investigating Ryan in secret. After that incident, he went abroad for two years, and I followed him overseas. The girl he liked was named Grace. I started collecting information about her. Later, I heard that he was looking for girls who looked like Grace to date. When I entered the plastic surgery clinic, I was actually thinking of backing out. Even after the surgery, I almost gave up on my revenge plan. But every time I went home, I couldn't help but think of Nathan. I remembered the things he said to me. Everything was vivid in my mind. Nathan is gone. And the real culprit had not received any punishment.