Chapter 6
Despite saying so, I still grabbed my phone and clicked on news articles related to “Randell Gunther” and ” May Rivera”.
Someone had taken a photo of her looking haggard as she stepped out of her house, no longer
surrounded by a posse.
Another news article wrote about how her art exhibition had been completely cancelled, thus causing damage to the Riveras as well.
As for Randell, reporters had photographed him alone on the seashore. He had allegedly stood there for a long time, as if looking for something.
In the comments, some people called him out for being heartless, some mocked him for deserving it, while others felt sorry for him as he was a “fool who had lost his true love”.
I found that ridiculous. His “true love” was never me.
By the time he was starting to reminisce, I was already slowly drifting further and further away.
The little boy sitting beside me, Finley Akroyd, suddenly leaned in curiously. “Ms. Rivera, what are you looking at?” he asked. 1
I hurriedly turned off the screen and answered gently, “It’s nothing. You haven’t finished drawing your lines yet. Come on, let’s get back to it.”
“Ms. Rivera, are you unhappy?” he asked, tilting his head.
I froze for a second before giving him a smile. “No, I’m not. You’re overthinking things.”
When Finley ran off, I stared blankly at the phone in my hand.
He was right. I was unhappy.
But it wasn’t because of those people. It was because these news articles had pulled me back into my
past which had been filled with nothing but lies and betrayal.
One day, as I was teaching the little kids in my studio, a young man came by. He stood by the door, holding a large bouquet of fresh flowers.
“Hello, I’m Finley’s uncle, Damon Akroyd. These are for you,” he said, a sliver of tentativeness in his voice.
“Finny really likes your class, so this is just a small token of my appreciation.”
My eyes brushed past the flowers as I nodded, but I didn’t reach for them. “I don’t accept gifts,” I said flatly.
He stiffened for a bit, seemingly not expecting my cool reaction, but he quickly withdrew his hand.
Chapter 6
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had such a rule.”
“It’s okay. Just don’t bring them again.”
He didn’t insist. He merely kept Finley company until class ended, then took him home.
But after that, every time he came, he would always bring something like fruits or snacks.
He would also smile and say, “Finny likes these.”
I knew that was just an excuse, and they were ultimately meant for me, but I never accepted any of them.
As time went on, however, I gradually noticed that his persistence wasn’t forceful-it was patient.
He wouldn’t talk to me too much. Most of the time, he would just quietly watch as his nephew drew.
Sometimes, he would also stand behind me as he silently observed me teaching.
“You draw so well,” he suddenly blurted one day, his tone filled with sincere admiration.
I stopped mid-stroke and turned to look at him. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I’ve never seen anyone draw like you. I can feel the emotions in each line you draw,” he
answered.
I didn’t answer him and merely continued to teach the kids.
But his words were like a pebble dropped into water, sending ripples throughout my heart.
