"The Last Rain of Us" Chapter 3
Andrea sat quietly, her small bowl empty.
She only picked at the garlic broccoli closest to her, eating small mouthfuls of plain white rice.
"Andrea, why aren't you eating the main dishes?" Martha noticed, her brow furrowing again in an unpleasant tone. "Is it because you’re living on your own now that you look down on my cooking?"
The table fell silent for a second.
Julian glanced around and suddenly realized something. "Mom, Andrea is allergic to seafood. She can't eat most of the things on this table."
Martha hesitated, looking at the table full of shrimp, crab, and sea cucumber, and then at the lonely little plate of greens in front of Andrea. A flicker of awkwardness crossed her face, but it was quickly replaced by more irritation.
"Always so much trouble with you!" she muttered. "Can't eat this, can't eat that. No wonder you’ve withered away like this."
Having said that, she didn't look at Andrea again. She turned back with a full smile to keep piling food into Macy’s bowl. "Macy, this sea cucumber is flavored perfectly. Try it! I’ll peel this shrimp for you."
Julian looked at Andrea’s nearly untouched bowl and then at her thin profile. Feeling a pang of guilt, he picked up a piece of braised pork from the far side of the table and placed it in her bowl. "Eat some of this first. When we get back, I’ll make you something good. I’ll cook some of that porridge you like."
Andrea looked at the oily piece of braised pork in her bowl, and her stomach lurched.
This was the "family" birthday dinner she had longed for and waited years to attend.
Chapter 4
The next day, Andrea dragged her leaden body out of the bank.
Her phone screen showed a notification of a successful transfer.
She leaned against the cold exterior of the ATM, letting out a long, deep breath.
Paid off.
The very last debt from the family bankruptcy had finally been cleared before she died.
Suddenly, her vision went black in waves. The bank lobby began to spin, and the noisy voices of the crowd grew distant.
She tried to grab onto something, but her hands were too limp to lift.
When Andrea opened her eyes again, it took a while for her blurred vision to focus.
"Are you awake?" a concerned middle-aged woman’s voice came from beside her.
Andrea turned her head with effort and saw a kind-looking lady sitting by the bed.
The lady leaned in closer. "You fainted in the bank. I saw your emergency contact was set to 'Husband,' so I tried calling him several times, but no one picked up. Then I tried 'Dad' and 'Mom,' but no one answered those either. I had no choice but to stay here and watch over you."
Andrea took her phone and tapped into the call logs. Seeing the string of red "Missed Calls" after 'Husband', 'Dad', and 'Mom', her fingertips turned icy.
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Just then, Andrea’s phone vibrated. The word "Husband" jumped on the screen.
"Oh, quick, answer it! Your husband must be looking for you!" the helpful lady urged from the side.
"Hello?" Julian’s voice came from the other end. "Andrea? Did you call? My phone was on silent, I didn't hear it. Is something the matter?"
Andrea opened her mouth, but her throat felt blocked by something. She couldn't say a single word.
The helpful lady couldn't stand it anymore. She leaned toward the microphone and said urgently, "Hello? Are you her husband? Your wife fainted! She’s in the emergency room at First City Hospital right now!"
The other end went silent for a few seconds. Then Julian’s voice returned, sounding clearly startled with a trace of subtle panic: "Hospital? Fainted? What... what happened to her?"
About twenty minutes later, Julian rushed into the emergency room.
He had fine beads of sweat on his forehead and was breathing heavily. His gaze swept over Andrea, who sat there seemingly fine, and his brow furrowed deeply.
"What's wrong with you?" he walked over. "Mom just told me that you must be faking illness again because you want me to stay with you. Andrea, how are you still using this trick?"
"Do you know what today is? I finally managed to get tickets to the musical Macy has been wanting to see! It was the last performance she wanted to see with the whole family before she went abroad! Because of you, it’s all ruined now!"
"The whole family?" Andrea finally spoke, her voice as light as a feather. "Does your 'whole family' not include me?"
Julian was stunned by her question. Looking into her hollow eyes, an inexplicable sense of unease and guilt flickered through his heart.
He avoided her gaze, his tone softening slightly. "That’s not what I meant, Andrea. If you want to see a musical, we can go anytime later. Truly. It’s just that these tickets were so hard to get; I only managed to find four, and Macy is leaving soon."
"Four tickets," Andrea repeated, giving a very faint smile. "Dad, Mom, Macy, and you. Just right."
Her smile made Julian feel uneasy. He took her cold hand. "Andrea, don't be like this. After Macy leaves, I’ll take you to see it, okay?"
"I’m fine now," Andrea pulled her hand back, interrupting him. "Just low blood sugar. It’s an old problem. You should go, don't miss the show."
Julian looked at her calm face and then at the time. He hesitated for a few seconds. "Are you really okay? Can you manage on your own?"
"Yes," Andrea nodded. "I’ll call a cab home in a bit."
Julian seemed to struggle for a moment, but ultimately, he turned and hurried out of the emergency room without even looking back once.
The helpful lady stood by, dumbfounded. She opened her mouth to speak but ended up just sighing and pouring a cup of warm water for Andrea.
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A musical. It seemed she had never seen one.
Suddenly, she really wanted to know what kind of performance was so important to Julian, so anticipated by Macy, and so perfect for the "family."
The theater entrance was brilliantly lit, with crowds flowing in like a tide. She walked to the ticket window. "Excuse me, are there any tickets left for 'The Turning of Time'? Any seat is fine; I can pay extra."
The staff member behind the window gave her a strange look. "'The Turning of Time'? This show hasn't had a high attendance rate. There are plenty of tickets; no need for extra money. What price range would you like?"
Andrea was stunned.
She walked into the dim theater. The performance had already begun.
The light and shadows on the stage were beautiful, and the actors' voices were melodious, but she couldn't hear any of it. Her gaze was locked onto the center of the first row.
Four people were sitting there side-by-side.
Her father had his head tilted back slightly; her mother was leaning in to whisper something to Macy with a doting smile.
Macy was focused on the stage, letting out soft gasps of wonder from time to time. Julian sat at the very end. His profile looked soft in the stage lights, his gaze drifting between the stage and Macy.
She sat in a distant corner, like a thief spying on someone else’s happiness.
She didn't know how she made it through until the end. When the lights came up, she hurriedly lowered her head and rushed out with the crowd, wanting only to avoid them.
In her panic, she ducked into the restroom, hid in a stall, and leaned against the cold partition to calm her heart and breath.
Just then, familiar voices came from outside.
"Mom, here’s my allowance for the month," said Macy in a coaxing, pampered voice.
"Oh, look at my memory!" Martha’s voice was full of laughter and affection. "Your sister just transferred some money to me this morning, saying the last of the debts are paid off. I’ll transfer it to you now. Don't deprive yourself while you're abroad; buy whatever you want."
"Thanks, Mom! But if Sis knew that the money she worked so hard to pay off debts for all these years wasn't actually for that many debts—that most of it was just for my allowance—would she be angry?" There was a trace of subtle anxiety in Macy’s voice.
Inside the stall, Andrea froze completely.
Martha’s dismissive voice followed: "Angry about what? As the older sister, isn't it her duty to look after you and help you out? Andrea is sensible; she’ll understand."
The faucet was turned on, and the rushing sound of water covered the words that followed.
Andrea stood in the cramped stall, her whole body trembling.
She didn't know how long she stood frozen there until her legs went numb. Only then did she mechanically push open the door and stumble out.
Just as she was about to reach the theater exit, her gaze caught sight of something not far ahead. Macy was affectionately clinging to her mother’s arm. In her other hand, she held the leash of a small, exquisitely groomed white pet dog.
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