Tristan had been too young, he felt frustrated upon failures and excited upon challenges, and had more ambition when he met with little success. Besides revenge, he wanted to fulfill his dreams as most young men did and longed to do something in his career, d.e.s.i.r.ed riches, and power.

He sighed, "Driven by more and more d.e.s.i.r.es, I lost myself in the new roles I played. I lost balance in various options presented to me."

"Does this sound boring to you?"

Kate was absorbed by his story, and she shook her head. Though she had never imagined something like this, she could understand. A man that was smart and aggressive would not be satisfied with an ordinary life without achievement.

However, she was more concerned about another problem, "Then, the remaining half of it, do you want to proceed?"

Tristan seemed to be surprised at her question, but he soon let it go. She was always like that. One might think she was stupid, but she had something she cared about. She followed her own track of thoughts, and she didn't lose her mind in the complicated and chaotic situation.

He always appreciated her style of wisdom.

However, he hesitated for a while on this question. He replied, "Everything, once started, has to have its ending."

Kate's heart sank.

She realized that the expectation was in her heart without her knowing it. "If it has a cost…" She sounded him out.

"Everything has a cost."

She didn't give up, "If that would hurt others…"

"Who are the others you refer to?"

Kate looked down in the dark.

Tristan took her hand from her knee and held it, "I told you this is because of the mistakes I have made, as I have realized them now, I will not repeat them.

"I will assess and consider everything before I make a decision. You don't have to worry about it."

The temperature of his palm made Kate feel at ease. He was sincere and frank in his words. That made her moved, but she was still worried.

Tristan still could not let it go.

Personalities decided one's fate. She thought of this saying.

The heavy conversation was interrupted by a grumble in his stomach.

"I will go prepare some food for you."

He didn't release her hand but held it tighter. She asked, "How long since you last ate anything?"

Tristan thought about it and said, "The last time I ate was two days ago."

He let her hand go when hearing she sniffed.

Kate took out a piece of beef from the refrigerator and started to cut it, then chopped it into meat paste. After frying the meat paste with sauce and onions in a pan, she used sliced bacon to wrap the meat and lettuce and made some meat rolls. And then she put them over to roast.

While she was waiting for the meat rolls to be ready, she thought of the last time she cooked, when Tristan's mother came here. And the time before last was a long time ago, probably more than one year ago.

She looked at her palms. She used to have calluses at the roots of her fingers, and now they were gone. Now her hands were soft and her fingers slender; the nails shiny and in perfect shape. She touched the tender skin on the back of her hands.

Her hands had become expensive.

What had become expensive were not just her hands.

She had got used to an expensive life, not worrying about quality food and daily necessities.

This was something she resisted, as she had resisted Tristan. However, it had penetrated into her life without her realizing it. Until sometime when she forgot her intention to resist and accepted it like the dry land accepts the rain.

The ding of the oven brought her thought back, and she got the plate out of the oven and put another plate of potato in.

Tristan had finished the shower and changed into clean clothes. He followed the smell into the kitchen.

She had finished cooking and was wiping the counter. She saw him and brought the two plates and followed him to the dining hall.

After he sat down, she got him a cup of water. "Not sure if you like them. Just get by with them. Tomorrow Laura will be back."

Tristan didn't say anything. The meat rolls were juicy and yummy. And he dipped the potato wedges in the remaining juice of the meat rolls. They all tasted wonderful to him. His stomach, which had been abused for the past few days, felt warm and satisfied.

"Do you want to turn on your cell phone? Ed and your secretary are all looking for you."

He took his time enjoying the food and looked to the window. It was still dark outside, and the rain had turned to drizzle. It was warm, safe, and peaceful inside. This kind of occasion was luxurious to him.

He said, "I will call them in the morning."

***

It was getting colder each day.

The rain that had lasted for several days pushed the city to become windier in the meantime.

Owen put down his suitcase and went upstairs to the study. He knocked at the door and heard a low reply inside. He pushed the door and went in.

The study was big and the most luxurious room in the house. To say it was luxurious was not just because of the decoration of the room, but also the shelf with the collection of his father's whole life.

Owen's father stood by the window. He was in his sixties, still strong and spirited. He had not one single silver hair. Now he stood with his hands behind his back, and he seemed to be in a slight sorrow.

"It is done?"

"Yes, I just came back. The surgery went well. You don't have to worry now."

Every family had their problem. His sister Ruth had a congenital spinal disease and has suffered from it since childhood. This time somebody recommended a world expert, and she had the surgery again.

Owen sighed and said, "OK. I can tell your mother when I see her above there."

"Dad…Why did you say that? How was your physical examination?"

"I am alright. But who knows what could happen in the future? I have quite a few friends gone these years."

Owen didn't know why his father had suddenly become so pessimistic. He scanned around and saw a black and white photo on his desk. It was a photo of four young men, wearing army uniforms and smiling brightly.

"You are looking at it again."

"Today is the death anniversary of your uncle David."

Owen curled his lips down, "He died of an unnatural cause." He didn't have much of a good impression of this rich uncle. He had made money by foul means and was murdered in his luxurious house. The killer had not yet been found so far.

Owen's father sighed and said, "He was gone anyway. Of the four of us, now only two are alive. Last night I dreamed of us fighting in the jungles of Vietnam…"

Recalling the time of war and staring at the photo of the youthful and innocent faces, he was overwhelmed by mixed emotions. He turned his head and saw his son was still lingering there. He asked, "Anything else?"

"Dad, I want to get married to Jessica."

"Oh," his father raised his eyebrows, "She agreed?"

"Not yet. I hope you can talk with Mr. Harderson."

"Jessica is not the kind of girl that would follow her parents' order. You have been waiting for her for so many years. Why have you suddenly lost patience?"

Owen frowned. Jessie had somebody else in her heart before. Now that person broke up with her for good, but she still showed no sign of accepting him.

Life is short. He didn't want to wait if waiting was hopeless.

His father knew him very well. Owen's father thought for a while and said, "OK. I will bring it up with Donald when I get the chance, but this kind of thing depends much more on you."

"I know."

Speaking of chance, the chance was here.

Owen's loyalty made him know that Jessie was ill for the first time. Acute cecitis, not a very serious disease, but serious enough to deprive the patient of their ability to take care of herself.

Jessie was lying on the hospital bed, looking at the man busying with this and that. His clothes were wrinkled, and exhaustion was on his face. He was so different from the sleek guy he used to be. She could not help asking, "I treated you so badly. You don't hate me?"

Owen grimaced, "There are two things I am not capable of in my life. One is hating you…"

"And the other one is?"

"…not loving you."

Jessie could not say a word.

"OK. I will not bother you with this. What is most important is you get recovered. I will bring you soup later."

He walked out of the room. His back looked lanky and lonely. Jessie suddenly felt sorry for him.

Owen had been by her side since they were teenagers. She changed boyfriends from time to time, but he was always alone. Some of their classmates even made fun of his s.e.x.u.a.l orientation.

She ignored him habitually, but when it came time she was ignored by a person, she realized how precious his company was.

She called to stop him, "Owen! Will you give me some time?"

The man looked back in surprise. He nodded, "All I have is time. A lifetime."

The table in this deluxe ward was loaded with fruit baskets, bouquets, and all kinds of gifts. Tristan also had somebody send a giant fruit basket and a card. Jessie took a look at it with a thrilling heart for a few seconds, but then her heart turned cold.

He didn't even want to see her.

The relations between them were one-sided from the beginning to the end.

He always kept a distance and never really loved her, even for a second.

She felt lucky that she had Owen after all. If she accepted Owen, she would not be too much of a loser in her life.

Jessie didn't know the person she bore a grudge against was in the pain of losing his mother.

Kate and Tristan planned to visit the cemetery again. Kate bought some colorful plush toy animals, balloons, storybooks, and flowers.

All the things piled up in the corner of the room and made it look like a child's room. Tristan was moved as well as amused, "Did she receive all of these?"

"Yes, if you can believe it." She was folding paper cranes with some small pieces of colored paper. Tristan sat down by her on the floor and folded one clumsily following what she did.

One week later, Jessie was discharged from the hospital. Owen still went to her apartment every day and cooked for her.

It was incredible that a man brought up in that kind of wealthy family could cook pretty well and also made the food nutritious and healthy. Would he make a good husband?

After they ate, Owen went to wash dishes and clean the kitchen like a diligent housewife. One evening, after everything was done and he was about to leave, it was raining outside. Jessie drew her attention from the window and said, "Don't go."

And they slept on the same bed naturally.

Owen lay beside her politely and gave a light sigh. It seemed this had already given him satisfaction. It made Jessie feel sympathetic for him.

After midnight, there was lightning and thunderbolts. Jessie moved closer to him and leaned against him. He smiled and asked, "You are afraid of this?"

"I was afraid of it when I was a child." Her mother had died when she was small, and her father always traveled on business. There was only her and her nanny. She slept with her nanny on rainy days, but her snoring disturbed her.

She had always been alone after she grew up. Now that there was somebody by her side, she realized that she was an ordinary woman longing for the arms of a man. When the man got into her body under cover of the sound of the rainstorm, tears came to her eyes.

She thought of another man. What was he doing?

Probably hugging another woman and comforting her, and doing the same thing.