For a moment, I stood frozen.
Perhaps seeing how miserable I was, the man beside Ben gave a slight bow.
“Sorry about my brother. He’s just like that. I’ll get in touch with you another day, Miss. We’ll come by to properly thank you.”
I didn’t know how long I stood there.
It wasn’t until a police officer came over and asked if I needed help that I snapped back to reality.
What was I thinking?
I was thinking about the way Ben had looked at me.
It was as if he saw me the same way he saw that drunken woman.
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Chapter 8
When I got home, the place was still a mess.
I stood there, stunned. I’d been in such a rush earlier to find him that I knocked over part of the shoe cabinet while grabbing an umbrella.
I set my bag down on the floor and walked further into the house.
The colored markers I bought for Ben were still in their unopened box.
The clothes I had ordered for him online were still on their way.
On the flour–covered floor next to the coffee table, the art book lay there, untouched.
I walked over and opened it to the last page.
He had written, carefully and deliberately…
“Love.”
The next day, when I went to the police station to make my statement, just as I expected, I ran into Ben again.
He was wearing a black shirt today, sitting with his head lowered, giving off an aura that screamed, “Don’t come near me.”
It was strange–he was the same person, yet he felt entirely different from before.
A few layers of bandages were wrapped around his forehead, probably from the steel pipe incident last night.
The police didn’t need to ask me much. I simply told them exactly how Ben had come to stay at my house.
When I left the station, I waited for a while at the entrance before Ben finally appeared.
He glanced at me briefly.
“Ben…”
“That’s not my name.”
His voice was a bit lighter, but mostly wrapped in impatience.
Right. He wasn’t Ben, but I had gotten so used to calling him that.
“M–Mr. Greene, this is the art book you left at my house, and the clothes I bought for you. They’re still unopened. I can’t wear them, so… I brought them for you.”
I handed him the bag, but he just lowered his gaze to me.
I used to think Ben’s eyes were beautiful, bright like they held countless tiny stars.
Now, his eyes were still beautiful, but they were like a bottomless, dark abyss.
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