Chapter 17 You’re about to get what you want
Three years have passed since then. People are still the same, but things are not.
It was still March, and everything was the same as it was in the old days.
He stood quietly in front of the tomb, flanked by the parents of the owner and her children.
Susan was so determined to die that she was taken to the hospital when it was too late.
And now she lies here, sleeping for three years. He held the bouquet of flowers and was a little overwhelmed.
Looking at the black-and-white photo on the tombstone, Chandler’s eyebrows softened a bit, “I know today is your Memorial Day, so I came from work early. The florist just got in a batch of flowers, newly bred over at the lab, I thought it was beautiful and brought it to you …”
Looking at the picture, he put the flowers closer, and smiled in a bureaucratic way, “The scent is very nice, you should be happy if you are there.”
There was silence all around. He brought the thermos over and placed the contents one by one in front of her.
It’s a pity the person in the photo can’t speak, if she could speak, perhaps it would give him a touch of comfort.
Three years ago, if not for his own sins, perhaps now they are happy together. A family of three living in peace.
Chandler made a sort of gasp, came out of his memories, looked at the tombstone in front of him, and said helplessly, “You must be very happy over there, seeing our children and reuniting with your family. I’m here to visit you again. Do you hate me now? Yes, I’m scum. Even if you die, I’ll still come to you to disgust you.”
The stone tablet was carved with a line in red, that he had carved on himself.
Chandler’s wife – Susan’s grave
She should be angry, after all, he did not let go of her until her death. It was himself who brought her so much pain.
He reached out and caressed the tombstone, his voice laced with pain: “You must be in a lot of pain right now, if it weren’t for me, how could your father and our children have died.”
“I’m the one who caused you.” He gritted his teeth, his forehead bulging with veins. And now, looking back, he wished he had strangled himself back then.
The person in the photo does not cry or laugh, there is no joy or sorrow, what remains is always the best moment for her.
This photo is still from her ID photo.
Chandler had never noticed so little of her left in the world.
He never really seemed to know this woman either. What she was like at one time, he had forgotten.
Only remembered her nervous and expectant expression on the night of the wedding. Unfortunately, it had become a memory, never to be seen again.
He looked to the tombstone on the side and walked over with a heavy heart. With a few toy dolls and a car with him, he sat down.
There was no picture on the tombstone; it was still unformed when it died and could not be distinguished from a man or woman.
“I don’t know if you are happy or not, you should be happy to see your mom. It’s the dad who is useless and has hurted you.” He put those toys in front of the tombstone, his gaze seemed to be with fondness, not leaving the doll, “It was dad’s fault, you must hate me over there now.”
“I know, but soon you will get what you want.” He stood up and sighed despondently.
The sky was overcast at some point, and the dark clouds rolled in as if heavy rain was about to fall.
He put the things he brought in their respective places and then left slowly.
The shade was thick in the distance, and he returned to his car. He closed the car door and habitually took out a cigarette from the side pocket, lit it familiarly, and smoked it.
A cigarette finished before he began to drive.This is from NôvelDrama.Org.
The scenery outside the window flipped, and he soon returned to the city. The place where they had once lived, he still kept.
After Susan left, he was afraid to live over here again, probably because of the guilt.
There was a supermarket near the residence, and he parked his car next to it and walked in.
He had never cared about these things, but he had learned a lot in the past three years, one of which was shopping at the supermarket.
He went straight to the snack section as soon as he entered. He didn’t know what Susan liked to eat, so he would buy all the new snacks that were available.
The shopping cart was soon full, and he was holding a box of chocolates and looking around when he suddenly looked up and saw a woman passing by the shelves.
A white dress, the back looks like Susan.
He did not hesitate, put down the things in his hands, and hurriedly chased after her. The woman wandered through the wine cabinet, walking and stopping, and then picked up one of her favorites.
Chandler stood a short distance away and watched steadily. Her back was so similar that if he hadn’t known her preferences, he might have taken her for Susan at this moment.
“Susan.” He softly pronounced the name.
He was about to turn back and go on to pick up something when he heard her cell phone ring and watched her pick it up slowly.
Chandler couldn’t help but stop and listen to what she would say.
The woman opened her mouth with a familiar voice, but the words were a bit muffled and not as clear as they used to be.
He listened to the whole thing and then froze in place. He couldn’t lift his feet like they were nailed to the ground, and he couldn’t walk.