Two days later, I saw Arthur again downstairs in our complex.
He looked like he had been waiting there a long time. His face was pale. There was dried blood near his hairline where he must have reopened the wound from his IV or bumped something during recovery.
In the past, I would have rushed over in a panic.
I would have scolded him for standing outside after being sick.
I would have softened before I even reached him.
This time, I walked past.
“Give it back.”
His voice was rough.
I stopped. “What?”
“The things you took from my room that night.”
He was talking about the box of gifts I had given him over the last three years. The charms I had begged for before exams. The folded stars. The engraved pen. The little notes. Every single thing I had ever tried to hand him with sincere, foolish hope.
He used to toss them all into one delivery box without even looking.
When I had gone to help him during his fever, I had seen that box sitting there.
So I took it.
Along with the scarf I never got to give him.
“I threw them away,” I said.
He stared at me. “What?”
“I threw them away.”
His eyes reddened instantly.
“You had no right. Those were mine.”
I almost laughed.
“Mine? You used to say they were worthless.”
“I don’t care. You gave them to me. They were mine.”
“You never treasured any of it.”
“I—”
He stopped.
Then he said stubbornly, “You can’t just take my things.”
I looked at him for a long moment.
“Arthur,” I said softly, “are you regretting it?”
He went still.
I reminded him, word for word, “You said you weren’t a street market. Once something’s over, it’s over. No regrets. Wasn’t that you?”
He opened his mouth, closed it, and then suddenly stepped toward me.
“Yes,” he said hoarsely. “I regret it.”
For one second, everything around us went quiet.
Snow drifted slowly between us.
His voice shook.
“I was wrong. I underestimated what I felt for you. Since you left, I’ve been… I’ve been miserable.”
He took another step.
“Zoe, I give up, okay? I’m not being stubborn anymore. Let’s get back together.”
I looked at him.
“Get back together?”
“This time I’ll tell everyone,” he said quickly, like he had finally discovered the correct answer to a difficult problem. “I’ll make it public. I’ll tell them you’re my girlfriend. Isn’t that what you wanted? It’s not hard. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”
It really wasn’t hard.
That was the most laughable part.
When I wanted it with all my heart, he refused to give it.
Now that I no longer wanted it, he held it out like a reward.
I smiled faintly.
“Arthur,” I said, “are you actually smart or not?”
He blinked.
“We already ended it. You can’t glue something broken back together just because you feel like it. I don’t like being tangled up. If you keep doing this, it becomes harassment.”
“Why?” he asked urgently. “Do you really not like me anymore?”
Before I could answer, another voice called my name.
“Zoe.”
Ryan.
Arthur’s eyes sharpened immediately.
Ryan walked straight over and put himself between us.
“Can’t you see she doesn’t want this?”
Arthur looked at him with open hostility. “This is between us.”
Ryan glanced at me.
I stepped to his side and said clearly, “There is no ‘us.’ We’re neighbors. That’s all.”
Arthur’s expression changed.
Like something inside him had cracked.
Ryan said evenly, “If you keep bothering her, I’ll call the police.”
Arthur ignored him and looked only at me.
“Zoe,” he said, his voice actually trembling now, “come here. Let’s talk properly.”
I tugged lightly on Ryan’s sleeve.
“Let’s go.”
Behind me, Arthur called my name again.
He even sounded like he was crying.
I didn’t turn around once.