Love Began with the First Meeting
Chapter 727 The Farewell (Part One)

There has never been a feeling stronger in my life than the love that I have for you. I love you so much, which is why I have to let you go. It sounds strange and I don't expect anyone to understand, not even you, but I love you so much and I know that I can never give you the happiness that you want and deserve. Keeping you would be selfish of me. Keeping you by my side would only hurt you more, and so I have to let you go. Don't worry about me. Move on. Look to the future. Never look back at the past or me. You can leave me behind. I give you freedom. -Brian

Molly was in a daze so she did not notice that her feet were leading her onto the road. Her mind was blank and numb and it was like her body was on autopilot. She did not see the cars or hear their roaring honks until they seemed to be at maximum volume, shrill and desperate to drive past. They all reminded her of frightened animals hurrying to avoid the hunter. She slowly turned around, her mind still in a numbed state. She was unaware of the danger that she was in. Quite contrarily, she had almost given into the danger. The cars' bright, dazzling lights flashing at her triggered something in her; a strange, unearthly desire was creeping into her mind. She wanted her sorrows to be done and over it. She wanted to end it all. She wanted to give up on everything. "Little Molly!"

came Eric's hysteric shriek. He had been following her since she ran out from the hotel in tears. Terror overwhelmed him, seeing her standing on the road, which was swarming with moving vehicles. Without much thought, he rushed over to where she was and pushed her aside towards the pavement. Before they could reach the pavement however, the car that was driving towards them came to a sudden jolt but it didn't stop. Eric held Molly in his arms and rolled on the ground to escape the hit. Yet the horror wasn't over; they happened to roll onto the next lane of vehicles and a big, heavy-laden truck was coming. Instinctively, Eric pushed Molly against the ground and used his body as a shield, covering her. The truck passed right above them, with them just under the gap between the wheels at the two

flanks.

Then followed a blaring sequence of cacophonous sounds of emergency brakes all around.

Vehicles halted. Honks squealed. Distressed people began to complain out of their car windows, venting about the lack of safety on the road nowadays, reproaching Molly and Eric for their carelessness, even cursing them out, angry that they would drag other innocent people into danger. "Damn it! Do you want to die?"

The driver of the truck that had passed over Eric and Molly got out of his vehicle and marched up to the pair. His face had paled from his near-death experience. "You want to die? Then go die yourself! Don't drag me with you!" Despite his anger towards them, he couldn't help but feel relieved when he saw that they were only lightly injured. After a bit complaint, he calmed down enough to return to his truck and drive away.

In the state that they were in, Eric wasn't in the mood and didn't have the energy to argue. He simply watched as the man drove away. Then he got to his feet and helped Molly up. "Little Molly, are you okay?" he asked worriedly.

As he asked her that, he leaned down to heft Molly up onto his arms and started to walk back to the hotel. When they entered the lobby, he laid her down on a couch and checked her from head to toe, searching for any injuries she might have gotten.

To his relief, she was only slightly scraped on her right arm.

"Mr. Eric Long, here are the emergency medicines you requested!"

The lobby manager hurried over to them, a suitcase-sized box in hand. Seeing that the back of Eric's shirt was drenched in his blood, he was shocked. "Mr. Eric Long, are... are you hurt?" The manager's face was white.

Although he heard him, Eric didn't answer his question. He only shook his head once and then took the medicine box from him and then got down on one knee. He worked on the wound on Molly's right arm, cleaning it with a towel, applying medicinal cream on it, and then wrapping her arm with a bandage.

All of his movements were measured and calculative, like he had done this sort of thing before, and indeed, anyone would call him proficient. The lobby manager stood behind him, worried and concerned about his injury. The blood was now soaking up the entire back and dripping down a bit.

But Eric didn't seem to notice or care. He didn't even seem to feel the pain that he was in. He only focused on Molly. He kept his eyes on her as he worked, a sort of tenderness in his eyes, as well as concern. All that mattered to him was her.

All the while, Molly was emotionally numb and didn't make a sound. Death was so close to her, and it was appealing to her. She wanted to run away, to a vast, eternal darkness of nothingness. She had no intention to live. Eric sensed this; he sensed that she was depressed and falling apart. He gently cupped her chin and turned her face upwards. "Little Molly, there is nothing in this world that cannot be fixed. Nothing!" His voice was firm but gentle and comforting.

Molly was still in her trance-like state and even at his touch, she didn't seem to be present. She was blinking and her eyes seemed to search for answers, but on the whole, she was not responsive. Finally, she noticed his shirt. It looked as if it had been dyed in red paint. "Eric, you're bleeding..." Her voice was quiet and almost robotic with no emotion at all.

Hearing her voice, Eric felt a prick of pain in his heart, joyous and also sad. "I am sorry," she continued. "I put you in danger." Her eyes seemed like hollow spaces, looking at him but seemingly distant at the same time.

"Little Molly..." he sighed, shaking his head. He didn't want to hear her apologize or take any of the blame. He didn't want her to feel guilty at all. Looking at her, he tried to replace words to tell her... but what could he say? Searching for the right words seemed to be torturous as his mind raced and his eyes started to tear up and burn with agony. He started to have a feeling of sourness in his sinus region as he continued to think. He so desperately wanted to offer her words of ease and comfort, something that would allow her mind to relax. Before he could say anything, Molly turned to the lobby manager, who was still standing near them. In the same quiet, monotone voice, she asked, "could you please get the doctor or an ambulance for him?"

"Sure of course, right away!" The manager hurried through his affirmation, suddenly aware of his thoughtlessness. He rushed to order his employees to call for a doctor to tend to Eric.

When the manager left them, Molly turned to look at Eric. "Eric," she said.

"Yeah? I'm here, Molly." Eric was quick to respond, letting his eyes meet hers. He waited anxiously to hear what she had to say.

Molly blinked a few times, as though she was trying to hold back her tears. It took her a moment, but she eventually slipped into a more serious countenance. She tensed and in a firm and resolute voice, she said, "Don't ever get hurt because of me again! A lot of people have already gotten hurt because of me... If you get hurt, I would never forgive myself..."

Death had clearly planted its seeds in her mind, and Eric could see it when he looked into her eyes. Depression overwhelmed her, her eyes darkening, and it was birthing more and more grey clouds, covering the whole of her mind. She was useless in her mind. She felt as if she had reached the end of her life; she wanted to end it and not cause anyone else harm or distress. For a long time, Eric stared at her, watching her face. His own mind was becoming shrouded with confusion and love and extreme worry for her, and it was so tense that he felt he could hardly breathe.

*

Ling got out of bed, in just her bra and panties. She took the bathrobe from the closet and pulled it on, tying it around her waist. Then she looked over at Brian, who was by the window, smoking as though he were a chimney. She rolled her eyes at him and then went to get a bottle of red wine and a glass from the kitchen, pouring herself a drink until the glass was full to the brim, then downed the whole glass.