Chapter 7
Back then, Benson often stood on overpasses, by the river, or on rooftops, letting the cold wind hit his face.
At this moment, he lit a cigarette, his gaze unfocused.
Every time he was in that kind of state back then, Yvonne would hold him close, soothing his fraying nerves with gentle words.
In the distance, neon lights flickered. The burning cigarette reached his fingertips and jolted him back to reality. He waited a while longer.
Only when the cigarette and the cold wind had completely eased the agitation inside him did he return to the car and drive off. He had made up his mind. He acted impulsively today. He needed to go back and apologize to Yvonne.
By the time he parked outside the yard, the sky was already dark. Benson checked the time on his phone, annoyed at how much time had been wasted at the hospital. He looked toward the house, only to see that not a single light was on. It hit him in the chest with a heavy, muffled pain.
He entered the code and was just about to step inside when the neighbor next door called out to him.
Benson frowned. He recognized this woman. She was very close to Yvonne, and Yvonne off
met up with her to go shopping when she was home and bored.
“Benson, I’m going shopping with the neighbor next door today. Help me pick an outfit, will you?” Yvonne had once asked him that with a soft smile on her face, her brows gently arched.
His vision blurred for a moment. Then, he walked over to the neighbor.
The neighbor exchanged a glance with her husband, then gave a slight nod. They decided to tell Benson what had happened that afternoon.
The treasured tea set that had been carefully preserved for years was placed in front of Benson. His expression darkened.
“This set… It’s clear it means a lot to her. I really didn’t want to take it, but she was too firm today. I couldn’t talk her out of it… Just take it back with you.”
As Benson turned to leave, she stopped him again. She hesitated, then added, “I’ve known Yvonne for years. She’s always been gentle and strong. You’re her husband. No matter what happens, talk things through. Honestly, seeing her like that today… It didn’t sit right.”
Benson stood in the front yard with the tea set in hand. He didn’t know whether to go over to the garden or not.
He had already looked. The house was empty. Yvonne wasn’t home.”
In the full–length glass window beside him, his reflection showed a clouded, unreadable expression. His head hung low like an abandoned stray.
He had lost count of how many calls he had made. All had gone straight to voicemail. He placed the tea set carefully on a side table. His hands trembled as he reached for the garden gate.
Strangely, the gate, though fairly new, creaked loudly as it opened. It sounded almost like a farewell.
The lights flicked on. Benson froze in place, his pupils contracting.
When the neighbors spoke to him earlier, he had assumed that Yvonne was putting on some kind of performance, trying to guilt trip him… But the blood in his body suddenly felt as if it were rushing backward. With stiff limbs, he stumbled toward the lemon tree.
དུ ཅན བ ཇཁོ ཟ
It felt like a giant invisible hand had seized his heart. He couldn’t breathe.”
Just then, the doorbell rang. Benson slumped where he stood, lacking the strength to answer it. He pulled out his phone and connected it to the surveillance camera at the front gate. Judging from their uniforms, the people outside were workers.
He tapped the voice feed and answered in a low voice, “What is it?”
The workers stated their reason for coming. A long silence followed.
Benson looked down at the fallen lemon tree, his eyes holding a wounded look. His throat moved, but even after opening his mouth several times, no sound came
out.
In the end, he swallowed the lump in his throat and forced his voice out. “It’s no longer necessary. Sorry to trouble you.”
Then, he dragged out the square table and brought over two stools. Wrapped in thick clothes, he sat beneath the lemon tree with cold tea by his side. He remained there the whole night, silent and motionless,
