CHAPTER 148: CHAPTER 148: LOVE MEMOIRS

The weather station has announced that the 79th typhoon of this year will make landfall early tomorrow morning.

The heavy rain in Beldon has continued since yesterday, showing no sign of letting up.

The air is hot and sticky, with no cool relief from the rain, making it hard to breathe.

Meteorological bloggers analyze that the typhoon is highly deceptive; the hotter the weather, the more energy it accumulates, and the stronger the typhoon becomes.

For safety reasons, Lunar Lotus Studio will be closed starting today.

But, Holly did not tell Blake Sinclair about this.

At exactly two o’clock in the afternoon, she arrived at Beldon Cinema on time.

With the typhoon about to make landfall, the cinema lobby was pitifully empty. She showed her electronic invitation, and a staff member immediately came to guide her.

The third hall was a couples’ hall, with only a few red double sofas available.

On the big screen, viewing instructions were being played in a loop.

The staff led her to the entrance; as soon as Holly entered, she saw Shannon Yarrow sitting in the center of the last row.

The lighting in the theater was dim, and the light from the big screen reflected on her, revealing only a vague outline of her figure, but the malice in her eyes was clear as day.

"I thought you wouldn’t come?" She stood up, offering the seat next to her.

Holly remained motionless, her fingertips icy cold.

If she hadn’t made that call to Auntie Cole yesterday, she really wouldn’t have come.

Shannon glanced at her phone, taking the initiative to step down, stopping two steps above Holly.

The play of light stretched her shadow long, nearly covering Holly, "It’s almost time."

Suddenly, she laughed, inscrutable, "Holly, if you can sit through the entire show today, I’ll give you a gift."

Leaving behind this perplexing statement, she picked up her bag and left.

As they brushed past each other, her skirt brushed against Holly’s calf, leaving a patch of coldness.

The theater door closed again, leaving the vast place with only Holly and the constant stream of air conditioning blowing at her collar.

It took her a while before she finally took a step up the stairs and sat in the second-to-last row.

Almost as if timed, just as she sat down, the big screen began to play a video.

The video started in silence, with just the sound of a pencil scratching across paper, as the delicate brows and eyes of a girl slowly came into view—it was Shannon Yarrow from middle school.

The camera slowly focused on the drawing, depicting a man reading by the window in a library.

With just one glance, Holly recognized who it was.

Younger than now, but unmistakably him.

Blake Sinclair.

Year after year.

Sketch after sketch.

From pencil sketches to oil paintings, the drawing skills became increasingly refined.

The scenes in the paintings also became more numerous.

From the school library to business meetings, and even at home.

The man in the paintings watered flowers in the backyard, cooked in the kitchen, gathered with friends, and even lay asleep on the sofa.

What changed were the man’s gradually maturing features; what remained the same was that the chronicler was always Shannon.

The video ended by freezing on the final oil painting, fireworks blooming brightly in the night sky, the man slightly tilting his head back, his posture upright.

Then the scene cut to real footage.

In the night sky, just like in the painting, fireworks exploded. Shannon slowly walked into the frame, holding a bouquet of Brelondian Irises and a finely wrapped gift box.

Blake Sinclair turned at the sound.

"Happy birthday." Shannon shyly handed over the gift and flowers.

Blake Sinclair, facing slightly away from the camera, but his voice was captured completely, "Did you prepare these fireworks?"

Shannon nodded.

Immediately, a mixture of English and Chinese cheers erupted, "Together, together!"

The video ended, freezing on the image of the two embracing.

Shannon leaned on Blake Sinclair’s shoulder, smiling brightly at the camera.

It stung Holly’s eyes.

The cinema’s air conditioning was at full blast, and Holly, wearing short sleeves, felt her exposed skin prickle with goosebumps.

But colder than her body was her heart.

What is this?

A romantic memoir of Shannon and Blake’s relationship?

So, they really were together.

No wonder Shannon always looked at her with such hostility.

It wasn’t unrequited love; it was because they shared such a romantic past.

Holly felt suffocated, not because of the video, but because Blake Sinclair had kept it from her.

She didn’t mind that he had ex-girlfriends—everyone has a past.

From the day they got married, Holly knew there would be Chapters in his life where she was absent.

But what she minded were the lies! The concealment!

She had repeatedly asked him if he had ever been involved with Shannon Yarrow, and every time, he decisively answered no! Every time, he swore there was absolutely no relation with Shannon.

But Shannon had been to that house in Brelond.

The reason he wanted fireworks for his birthday was because Shannon had once set them off for him.

Even the Brelondian Irises, Shannon had given him.

They shared such passionate pasts, yet he denied it to her again and again.

Is this what he meant by "no relation"?

He knew her past inside out, but she had to piece together his past, bit by bit, from a scrapbook of his relationship with an ex-girlfriend.

Unfair!

So wildly unfair!

Her eyes stung as if something had scalded them, tightening her throat.

Holly clutched her bag, fleeing down the stairs, tears spilling onto her arm as the cold draught from above brushed past her eyes, chilling her to the bone.

After she left, from the corner near the door, Shannon was watching her departure, silently pulling out her phone and making a call.

After leaving the cinema, Holly drove straight to the Sinclair Group’s building.

She wanted to find Blake Sinclair, to ask him face to face.

To ask if all those drawings, fireworks, the past with Shannon, were truly as he said—of no relation!

But just as she reached the Sinclair Group’s building, she ran into Cole Tanner, who was about to go out.

He was surprised to see her, "Madam, what brings you here? President Sinclair left for The Grandflora Gardens half an hour ago."

Going home?

Holly felt her heart sink.

Without a word, she turned the car around and headed back to The Grandflora Gardens, tires splashing through puddles, windshield wipers wildly oscillating, yet no matter how they swiped, the rain on the windshield wouldn’t clear.

Just like her mood now, a complete mess, chaotic and muddled!

As the car reached the entrance of The Grandflora Gardens, someone suddenly dashed out from the side, blocking her path.

It was Zion Pence.

He looked much more haggard, despite his suit still being crisp, but the exhaustion and red veins in his eyes were undeniable.

Holly had no intention of getting out of the car.

Zion stubbornly stepped forward, knocking on her window hard.

Impatient, Holly rolled it down halfway.

"Holly, I have something to say to you."

Holly gave him a withering look, "Get lost."

Zion, though humiliated, remained calm, "Please get out of the car; we need to talk."

"What right do you have to make demands of me? Say it now." Holly replied, preparing to close the window.

Seeing her determination, Zion panicked, instinctively reaching out, narrowly avoiding getting his fingers caught.

"Are you alright?" he suddenly asked, his gaze complex.

Holly had no idea what kind of madness this was.

Already irritable, she had no intention of engaging with him.

She slammed the gear into drive, stepping on the gas.

In the rearview mirror, Zion, unwilling to give up, tried to catch up, only to be stopped by security.

Thinking she had left him behind, she was surprised when, just coming out of the parking garage, Zion appeared again out of nowhere.

Holly didn’t spare him a glance, walking into the elevator and pressing the close button immediately.

But in the last moment before the doors shut, he forced his way inside.

"What are you doing? Get out!" Holly backed away cautiously, maintaining distance.

"I have something important to say to you."

Zion continued talking, even reaching to grab her hand, which Holly swatted away.

"Don’t touch me!"

She had no idea how he got into The Grandflora Gardens, but now, she didn’t want to stay in this confined space with him a second longer—who knew if he’d suddenly go crazy and do something unthinkable.

She eyed him warily, attempting to open the elevator door again, only to be blocked.

Zion, noting her defensiveness, spoke directly, "Don’t you want to know who Blake Sinclair’s first love is?"