Parallel Call Chapter 2

New Year’s Day. When I woke, the woman from last night was gone.

But she’d left a pair of panties on the sofa.

Harry followed my gaze, then suddenly wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close.

“What, jealous?”

He leaned in to kiss me, and I instinctively recoiled.

The flicker of tenderness that had briefly softened his eyes instantly morphed into mockery.

“Always that same lifeless look.”

“You only screamed like a real woman the night you drugged me and crawled into my bed.”

His words pierced my heart, a wave of shame washing over me.

But he simply pushed me away, coldly.

“Alright, it’s New Year’s Day. We have to go back to the old mansion to pay respects to my mom.”

Harry’s mother was the person I dreaded facing most.

All these years, her eyes had always looked at me as if I were something dirty.

But this time, she didn’t even glance my way.

She sat on the sofa, deep in conversation with the very woman who had been in Harry’s arms last night.

Turns out, she was Layla Thorne, the woman Harry was originally meant to marry.

Mrs. Miller patted Layla’s hand, her eyes full of approval.

“Such a good girl. If it weren’t for that awful girl, you would have been our daughter-in-law by now.”

Harry walked over, a playful smirk on his face.

“Mom, I’m already married. Why bring that up? If you like her so much, just have her come visit more often.”

“And what role would I play? Call you brother?”

Layla’s laugh was sweet and innocent.

But the word “brother” had tormented me all night, whispered brokenly during their indulgent acts.

Now, they smiled at each other, looking like a true family.

And I, awkward and out of place, stood on the periphery, a glaring outsider.

At dinner, simply because Layla mentioned, “I’d like some beef,” Mrs. Miller had the kitchen prepare a whole table of beef dishes.

Our village tradition forbade eating beef; we couldn’t even touch it.

Seeing me hesitate to pick up my chopsticks, Mrs. Miller finally turned her gaze to me, her eyes filled with annoyance.

“What are you waiting for? Eat! Don’t be so dramatic!”

“In our family, you should do as the Romans do, understand?”

I looked at Harry helplessly, my last shred of hope resting on him.

At least he used to understand me.

Then, he picked up something that looked like a mushroom and placed it on my plate.

“Mom, don’t scare her.”

The tenderness in his voice offered a fleeting glimpse of the man he once was.

“This isn’t beef, Luna. Try it, it’s delicious.”

I ate it without suspicion. But the moment my teeth sank into it, Layla’s laughter shattered the silence.

She pointed at me, her tone innocent yet cruel.

“Look! She’s eating beef!”

“I knew it! There’s no such thing as beliefs or taboos, it’s all just excuses, pretending to be prim and proper!”

Harry had tricked me.

I stumbled to the bathroom, thrusting my fingers down my throat.

I wanted to vomit out that piece of meat, along with all the degradation and betrayal I had swallowed over the years.

Physiological tears blurred my vision. I called my eight-year-younger self again.

This time, she was silent for a very long time.

Then, she began to reminisce about the clear stream in our village.

He had looked at me, his eyes bright like stars.

“Luna, I did my research beforehand. You folks from Silver Creek don’t eat beef, right?”

“When we’re together, I’ll be with you, and I’ll never touch it either.”

But now?

My past self on the video call looked even more despairing than I did.

“This…this isn’t what I wanted…”

She sobbed hysterically, repeating,

“It hurts too much.”

Does it hurt?

I had grown so accustomed to it, I couldn’t shed another tear.