At three in the morning, I received a call from Jarvis.
His voice on the other end was hoarse, as if he had drunk quite a bit.
Jarvis said, “Evie, why haven’t you come to get me yet?”
Such a simple sentence made my eyes well up. I tightened my grip on the phone, my white-knuckled fingers betraying my nervousness.
I choked out, “Where are you? Jarvis—did you finally remember me?”
He muttered an expletive under his breath, gave a casual address, and, as if sobering up, his voice took on a calm, unhurried tone. He chuckled softly, “Well, I’ll be waiting.”
“Only thirty minutes, though.” He paused, his tone almost playful.
Hearing his curse, I regained my composure, but it was quickly followed by a wave of disappointment. Jarvis had truly forgotten me.
I knew I’d likely be mocked by him and his friends, but I had no choice. I feared that if he remembered, he’d be upset that his Evie didn’t come to pick him up, and he’d make me listen to his lamentations about how pitiable he was.
“Do you know how pitiful I am?”
“My dearest Evie forgot to take me home…”
Yet, I had forgotten that seven years ago, even though Jarvis’s flight landed in the early hours, and he longed to see me, he couldn’t bear for me to endure the cold night just to pick him up.
Back then, he loved me most.
As long as there’s a glimmer of hope, I don’t want to give up. I don’t want to give up on Jarvis!
Worried about Jarvis, I threw on a random jacket and rushed out, running several red lights along the way.
Just because he said, “Well, I’ll be waiting.”
When I arrived, it was already past a minute.
Jarvis’s private room was completely empty. I cast a disappointed glance around and turned to leave.
As I was leaving, I passed another room and heard a familiar voice inside.
Our mutual friend, Chris.
Chris said, “Jarvis, why does that annoying woman keep clinging to you? Doesn’t it bother you? It’s been seven years; even as an outsider, it’s annoying to watch.”
Jarvis replied indifferently, his voice devoid of any emotion: “I don’t know. I’ve forgotten.”
“She’s just a trivial person, a source of amusement,” Chris nodded in agreement.
My hand, resting on the door handle, faltered. Chris’s words were completely wrong; Jarvis would never see me as just a source of amusement.
Jarvis would always love me. Over the past seven years, every second was spent showing his boundless affection for me.
When I was a child, struggling with etiquette and an unsuitable figure, I gave up breakfast and developed a stomach problem.
The spoiled young master, even learned from the nanny who cared for my meals how to cater to my tastes.
He’d cook me delightful meals in various ways and even put the broccoli I disliked back into my bowl, clasping his hands in a pleading gesture and say, “My sweetheart, you need to eat more! Just a little more, okay?”
During my hectic high school years, he would barge into my otherwise ordinary life with a nearly domineering presence.
When my exam results were poor, he’d ride his motorcycle to take me to the seaside to watch the sunset or to the mountains to see the sunrise.
The sea breeze tousled my hair, and the waves carried the fresh scent of mint—a scent that belonged solely to Jarvis.
His long fingers would smooth the stray hairs from my forehead, as I rested my head on his shoulder.
He’d curve his lips into a charming smile and say, “In your future, you must have me by your side just like today!”
“Evelyn, we have to be together even in death!”
Such a domineering and almost childish statement became a lifelong memory.
He was like an ark in the waves, and I was the lonely traveler.
With a single “I’ve forgotten,” he dismissed the seven wonderful years we shared. A sharp pain rose in my throat, and my eyes began to sting—he may have forgotten, but I couldn’t deceive myself.
Slowly, even the door in front of me seemed to distort in my blurry vision. I tried to blink away the tears, but they only kept coming, until I finally collapsed to the floor in despair.
Jarvis, I’m really about to give up.
Jarvis, please remember me. I’m begging you…