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Chapter 7
Before I could respond, my uncle’s voice came through loud and clear.
“Did you see the photo I sent you today? Any of the guys catch your eye? If so, I can ask around for you at work tomorrow.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at how eager my uncle was.
But before I could reply, an angry voice roared from the other end of my call.
What men? Catherine, as your friend, I’m warning you–someone like you won’t find anyone who genuinely likes you. The only men you’ll meet are scumbags! Get back home immediately. Don’t make me say it again!”
My mom and I exchanged a glance, both seeing the exasperation mirrored in each other’s eyes.
Speaking sweetly to my uncle, I said, “Sure, Uncle. I’ll let you know as soon as I decide.”
Then, lifting my phone, I said coldly, “Speaking of scumbags, I just happen to be dealing with one right now.”
He was still ranting about something, but I ended the call, blocked him, and deleted his number all in
one swift motion.
Before bed, Lexi sent me a message. It was a screenshot from Emily’s WhatsApp Moments.
She had already moved into the house Austin and I used to share.
All the little details I had lovingly decorated were gone, replaced with her preferences.
The ceramic figurines Austin and I had made together were tossed carelessly into a box, along with all the decorations we had worked on together.
She deliberately took photos of the ceramic figurines and decorations thrown next to the trash can
and captioned them: “Trash belongs where it should be.”
Lexi’s voice message was filled with outrage. “She’s doing this on purpose to provoke you! As if Anyone cares about that scumbag of hers!”
I thought I would feel angry, but instead, my heart was calm.
A Love Left Behind. Embracing a Better Future
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Ieven felt like thanking her for helping me get rid of those things.
“She’s not wrong about one thing–trash belongs in the trash can.”
I didn’t expect my uncle to act so quickly. The next day, he invited me out for lunch.
When I walked into the restaurant, I saw a man sitting next to him.
The man wore a black suit, his hair slicked back, revealing sharp and handsome features.
He exuded an aura of elegance and aloofness.
My uncle introduced him as a project manager at their company, listing off an impressive number
titles. He mentioned the man was here to gain some experience, had studied at Harvard…
As I listened to the litany of accomplishments and met the man’s calm and deep gaze, only one thought crossed my mind.
My mom was right–there are so many men in this world that even if you were hurt by one after another, there would still be a long line to get through.
The man’s demeanor was gentlemanly and composed, his presence warm and refreshing. He treated everyone with respect, neither overly distant nor overly familiar.
Most importantly, he was knowledgeable and articulate, able to engage in any topic with ease.
It was nothing like being with Austin, where I had always been the one to accommodate his preferences and tailor my life to his tastes.
As we were chatting pleasantly, my phone suddenly rang.
Puzzled, I picked it up, only to hear an all–too–familiar, aggravating voice.
“Catherine, you’re finally answering my call?”
I frowned. “How many numbers do you even have?”
There was a hint of grievance in his tone. “Catherine, what did you make me drink the other night?
Ever since you left, I haven’t been able to sleep well.”
Before I could respond, he continued.
“I can’t find a lot of things either–my clothes, my socks, my favorite water cup, my keyboard that Igh used to typing on, my desk lamp–they’re all gone…”
A Love Left Behind: Embracing a Better Future
I couldn’t help but laugh out of frustration.
“Austin, I refuse to believe Emily didn’t consult you about such a big renovation. Maybe you should check the trash can? She seems to think anything I touched is bad luck and has already packed it all up and thrown it away.”
“And please, stop bothering me. If you can’t sleep, go drink horse piss. If you can’t find your stuff, buy new ones. I’m not a therapist, and I’m certainly not part of your little couple’s games. Got it? Now leave me alone!”
I decisively blocked this number as well.
When I looked up, I met the man’s gaze.
Feeling a little embarrassed, I smiled. “Sorry you had to hear all that.”
He shook his head, but a faint smile seemed to curve his lips, and his eyes held a trace of amusement.
“Miss Grayson, you’re more interesting than I imagined.”
I froze, watching as he extended his hand.
“I’m Simon Fraser,” he said.
A Love
