Who is Luka?
After an intense moment of passion, Aria was drenched in sweet sweat. Unlike before, Dylan didn't rush off to shower. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, holding her so tightly, as if wishing to meld her into his very being. Aria felt like she was melting into his embrace, a swirl of surprise, excitement, and a hint of sorrow warming her heart. It was the first time in their three years of marriage that he had held her like this, making her feel deeply loved. Her heart raced, fluttering like a deer on the run, and she turned slowly to hug him back, her smile radiant and sweet, as if she was embracing the whole world. They stayed locked in each other's arms for what seemed like an eternity.
Eventually, Dylan let go, got dressed, sat up, and pulled a pack of cigarettes from a drawer. He expertly shook one out, lit it, and took a deep drag. The smoke blurred the handsome contours of his face, masking his expression and thoughts. Unaware, he almost burnt his fingers with the dwindling cigarette. Aria coughed lightly, "I thought you'd quit smoking?"
Dylan extinguished the cigarette, his gaze deep and intense as he looked into her eyes. After a silent pause, he said, "Aria, let's part ways." It struck her like a bolt from the blue! Aria froze, her warm heart turning icy in an instant. With a pale face, she stared at him, trembling slightly as she asked, "Did I do something wrong?"
"No," he replied.
"Then why?"
"Evelyn is back, I'm sorry." Evelyn, his ex-girlfriend. Aria felt as though her heart was being sliced open. Three years of close companionship couldn't outweigh the return of that woman! She wasn't loved; that was her gravest fault. Overwhelmed with a sense of loss, defeat, and sorrow, Aria bit her lip, her body stiffening. She shakily began to dress, intending to get out of bed.
Seeing this, Dylan gently asked, "Where are you going?"
"To make breakfast," she replied, fighting back tears.
"I used to make it before; let me do it today. You get some more rest," he said, his voice low and tender.
Aria merely nodded, lay down, and drew the covers over her moist eyes. After he left, she got up,rushed to the bathroom, and broke down crying. It felt like her tears would never stop, as if every single one was pulled straight from her heart. She had never imagined that loving someone could cause such pain, so intense that it felt like a piece of her was being gouged out. She leaned against the wall, crying until she shook.
Sometime later, Dylan called her down for breakfast. Aria washed her face repeatedly, but her eyes remained red and swollen as if they were filled with blood. Descending the stairs, she saw Dylan standing in the dining room. He was dressed sharply, his long legs accentuated by dark trousers, radiating a dignified and noble aura just by being there. Aria quietly took her seat at the table. Dylan looked into her reddened eyes with added tenderness, "Cried?"
Washing her face, she accidentally got facial cleanser in her eye, she replied, hoping it would soon pass. "Be more careful next time, let’s eat," he said, sitting down beside her and offering her the chopsticks. Aria took them, her gaze dropping to his graceful fingers on the chopsticks. The breakfast spread was tantalizing, yet neither could bring themselves to eat, marking perhaps the saddest meal either had ever had. Half an hour later, with the food untouched, Aria stood up, saying softly, "I’ll pack my things."
"There’s no rush," Dylan's grip on the chopsticks tightened slightly.
Aria forced a smile, thinking, 'it's already come to this, shouldn't I hurry to leave, unless I want to be kicked out?' She went upstairs, packing her belongings, clicking the suitcase shut after what felt like ages, and carried it downstairs. Dylan came forward to take the suitcase, "Let me."
"No, thanks," Aria replied, straightening up and heading out. Passing the familiar garden, she couldn't help but feel sorrowful. 'People are not like plants; they can feel. Three years of supposed affection, it turned out, was all on her side.' She loved him with everything – passion, familial affection, but what was the point? 'Let go,' she told herself. As they reached the front door, a car was waiting outside.
Dylan offered her a check, "Thank you for these three years."
Standing defiant, Aria wasn't sure if she should accept it. Dylan pushed the check into her suitcase, "Take it, you'll need money."
"Okay," Aria replied dryly, restraining herself from looking at him too long – at his lips, his nose, his handsome eyes. Remembering their time in bed, how his gaze covered hers, filling her world with stars, she felt an indescribable pain. She thought, 'Maybe one day, I'll finally stop loving him. Three years? Ten? Maybe a lifetime. Falling in love is easy; forgetting is hard, so hard.'
Dylan watched her for a while, then suddenly pulled her close, his face calm but his eyes turbulent, "It's going to be tough on your own. If you run into trouble, call me."
Holding back tears, Aria replied, "Okay."
"I wasn't well the past two years, made you suffer a lot."
"It was okay."
"Take care of yourself."
"You too."
Aria slowly raised her arms, hugging him desperately as if it was a farewell. But then, she let him go, quickly wiped her face, and walked away with her suitcase. A few steps out, Dylan's voice stopped her, "Who is Luka?"
Her heart skipped. Pausing, overwhelmed by memories, she found herself speechless once more.
Dylan added, "He must be important to you, huh? Sorry for taking up three years of your life. I wish you happiness."
