1 The day the internship results were announced, I scrolled past a post: "How devastating can a ghost of the past truly be?" The top-voted answer, recently published, read: "Let me tell you my story. He had a crush on me in high school. The other day, I ran into him while job hunting." "Even if my qualifications weren't the best, he'd make sure I was the one in a million chosen." Accompanying the text was their high school graduation photo – the girl in a white dress, her slender back exuding quiet innocence; the boy looking earnestly at her, his clean profile strikingly familiar. Just then, my phone vibrated with the notification: internship rejected. A sudden, chilling realization hit me: she was Liam Hollister’s 'ghost of the past,' and what was being crushed, was my future. I could accept a disastrous love life, but my career, my freedom, my entire life, could not suffer the slightest setback. The comments beneath the post instantly ignited a firestorm of discussion: "Seriously? Paving the way for your own kids is one thing, but for a past crush?" "Spill more tea, Miss Ghost-of-the-Past, otherwise the internet detectives will find you!" "Old enough to pull strings like this, so probably already married, right? Is the OP using the 'ghost of the past' excuse to be a mistress?" "Another cockroach basking in the sunlight! Do you roaches even differentiate between 'ghost of the past' and 'scarlet letter' types?" The OP, far from flustered, replied with a hint of smugness: "I know you're all unrefined and unappealing, struggling to even make ends meet in real life, so you can only lash out online." "I'm just lucky. Divorced with a kid, and still treated like a princess. It's perfectly fine if it infuriates you! He's even celebrating with me after work." This was the latest reply, two minutes ago. I tapped my phone. Liam Hollister was still my pinned contact. Two hours earlier, he’d told me he was attending a high school reunion dinner tonight, and, as always, sent me his location: "Reach out anytime if you need me." For five years, he had always proactively reported his schedule: overtime, dinners, sudden business trips… Even a single, brief message was enough to put my mind at ease. That’s why I had never considered seeing how he acted in front of others. But today, I suddenly wanted to see for myself. Outside, the wind howled, whipping up snow, and the road bled with the angry red glow of taillights. The restaurant was near my lab, easy to find. Perhaps due to the weather, few people were dining. I quickly located their private room. Inside, the conversation was lively: "Among all of us, Mark's made the most of himself. That whole Chloe Harlan situation, it wasn't minor, was it? Yet, you handled it so effortlessly…" "You used to say she was just a bookworm, and look at her now! I hear Liam's quite respected at work." Liam’s tone was detached, as if discussing the weather: "It was nothing, just a favor. I'm hosting tonight, so help yourselves to anything." More flattery ensued. "Chloe, you're set for life now. To put it bluntly, with Liam backing you, even if you don't go to work, no one would dare say anything." The girl, called Chloe, scoffed. "You make it sound like I'm entirely dependent on Liam. I've researched this position thoroughly. I was fully confident in my ability to handle it before I even submitted my resume." "Fully confident? This is one of Riverbend City's top two labs! In previous years, they only accepted Riverbend University PhDs. What's your degree…" "Chloe fully met the admission requirements this time." Liam raised his voice slightly, easily coming to Chloe's defense. His college roommate – the only person there I vaguely knew – spoke up: "Liam, aren't you worried about your girlfriend finding out about this?" Liam's voice suddenly darkened. "What's there to fuss about? Just helping an old classmate. And we're getting married soon. Even if she doesn't work, I can still feed her." Everyone echoed his sentiments, making it hard to discern their sincerity: "Honestly, her marrying you is a blessing from her ancestors." "If it were me, I'd spoil my man rotten, not cause trouble." "Chloe, did you misjudge him back then? If you'd just said yes to Liam, you'd be living the good life right now!" A well-known secret was thrown out, and the private room fell silent. Chloe's voice, tinged with a feigned grievance, mumbled: "With someone to take care of you, what's there to fuss about? I truly envy her now. If I didn't have Daisy, who would be willing to go out and work like a dog?" Someone asked Liam, "I hear your girlfriend isn't from around here, and your parents agreed to it?" Liam clearly didn't want to continue the topic, merely grunting, "…Mm." Chloe was about to say more, but Liam cut her off: "There aren't that many 'what ifs' in this world… Right now, I'm her only support in this city. And she's from a single-parent family. Girls from such families… you wouldn't understand." I pulled my winter coat tighter around me. The hallway was stiflingly warm, thick with heat, yet a shiver traced its way down my spine. In that single moment, I felt like saying nothing. My heart hollowed out, emotion a raw knot in my throat, impossible to swallow, impossible to purge. It made me sick. So this was Liam Hollister in front of others. He would casually make my private life a joke, degrading me into something utterly worthless. 2 I walked aimlessly down the street, my face stinging. I knew it wasn't my fault, but I couldn't stop the tears from flowing. Every fleeting moment of the past five years played out in my mind. Liam was five years older than me. In my first year of grad school, he returned as an outstanding alumnus to give a lecture. Learning he was working at the lab I dreamed of, I quickly scanned the QR code on the screen. Initially, I just wanted to learn more about the latest recruitment news. But whether by chance or fate, we always seemed to run into each other in public places. Sometimes at a professor's lecture, sometimes at an academic symposium… Gradually, our interactions became more frequent. He was as composed and rational as the rumors said. His exceptional looks were merely his least remarkable quality. When I was crying hysterically in the lab over complex data, he happened to be returning from a school event and decided, on a whim, to visit the lab building furthest from campus. When my roommate and I got into an argument with the next table at a restaurant, he and his friends happened to be in the adjacent place, and he effortlessly helped us out. When I was alone at the hospital for a check-up, holding an ambiguous report, afraid to approach the doctor, he appeared, silhouetted against the light at the end of the hallway… On Christmas Eve, he asked me out for dinner and, with remarkable naturalness, confessed his feelings. I felt like I'd been struck by a lucky charm, standing there stunned. He took a small step back, creating a distance that felt safe. "It's okay if you say no. Your wishes are what matter most." "Just tell me when you're ready for a relationship, and I'll be right there, closest to you, not going anywhere." I quickly shook my head, felt something was wrong, then just as quickly nodded. … After we got together, even pulling all-nighters in the lab felt fun. There was always a stream of texts from him on my phone. [Iris Hayes, I ordered you seafood congee. Remember to eat it while it's hot.] [Iris Hayes, you're hopeless! The data in your paper is clearly missing a decimal point!] [Iris Hayes, don't overwork yourself. It breaks my heart.] He would kiss me carefully, and every time we parted, he’d whisper "I love you" into my ear. He was no longer as reserved as when we first met. He’d even get jealous if I looked at an opposing player for too long during a basketball game he was playing in. He made me discover a better version of myself during my most stagnant and hopeless moments. But all these seemingly beautiful memories were now tainted with the bitter hue of doubt. My phone suddenly vibrated. It was Sarah, my senior research fellow. She was also involved in the lab's recruitment. "Iris, did you… did you and Liam have a fight?" I lowered my gaze, trying to sound calm. "No, why?" Sarah clearly paused, then stammered, "Our university usually has a 100% acceptance rate every year; it's practically an unwritten rule. This year, the other two got in, but only you…" "But the girl who was accepted, while she technically met the qualifications, her resume and interview were clearly not as good as yours…" Only me. Only I was rejected. But I had been preparing to get into the Riverbend University Lab since high school. With a civilian's hellish dedication, I had emerged victorious from that arduous battle, completing my bachelor's, master's, and doctorate at Riverbend University. My dream was within reach today. Yet, Liam had brazenly taken my decade-long efforts and offered them as a bridal gown for his 'ghost of the past.' 3 Back home, I sank into the sofa, scrolling through Chloe Harlan's profile. She loved answering questions. And she loved adding "Hollister’s invite" before her replies. [How are you doing now that you're married?] [Hollister’s invite.] [My original family background is excellent, upper-middle class or above, I suppose. For the first thirty years of my life, I rejected many boys, including some very, very outstanding ones. My ex-husband and I met abroad. It was his second marriage, my first. His conditions were far better than mine. His family was very pleased with me, finding me pure and innocent, so I was willing to take a leave of absence from school to have his child. I'm doing quite well after the divorce too. One marriage, but it clarified two people. My ex-husband harbored a princess in his heart, and I also have a knight loyal to me. Neither of us lost.] A knight loyal to her… I tugged at the corner of my mouth, scrolling further down. [If you could turn back time, what year would you go back to?] [Hollister’s invite.] [Probably the year he confessed to me in high school. If I had another chance, I would definitely say yes. I was abroad for five years and have been back for almost two months. That day, he returned from a business trip, and we ran into each other at the airport. He helped me find a place to live and a school for my child. Even when I was hospitalized, he took care of me while also picking up and dropping off my child. After I was discharged last month, I said I wanted to visit a temple, and he didn't hesitate to accompany me to South Peak. It was raining that day, and the mountain path was difficult, but I felt incredibly safe.] Countless details flashed in my mind like a rapid slideshow, each one fitting perfectly. I clutched my chest, a sharp, precise pain seeping from between my ribs. Last month, it only rained for one day. That day, I was driving my professor's car to pick up materials when I was rear-ended. The driver was aggressive, slamming his hand against my car window the moment he got out. I quickly called Liam, but all I got was a busy signal. When the traffic police arrived, the rain was coming down even harder; my umbrella offered no protection. I stood shivering by the roadside, my teeth chattering. Finally, Liam answered. He kept his voice low, telling me he was busy and would call me back later. At the time, I thought I heard a faint, distant bell chiming, believing it to be a hallucination. While I stood in the rain, terrified and alone, he was kneeling devoutly before a Buddha, praying only for his 'ghost of the past' to be healthy and safe. The latest Q&A: [Do you believe in broken mirrors mending?] [Hollister’s invite.] [Working on it… He's currently choosing to stay with his current girlfriend out of a sense of responsibility. So I don't see myself as a mistress. A man's love fluctuates between two women, and the one who came later is the mistress. But I was clearly the first, and I can feel his love is all for me. Just finished dinner. He called a ride-share to take me home. The car still smelled of my favorite jasmine scent. He'd had too much to drink and suddenly looked at me, saying A can only be A, and B can be anyone. I'm pretending not to understand, because I know I am A. I'm planning to buy two bottles of wine and talk to him all night, truly, just talk. Our high school classmates all know that his current girlfriend is lazy and relies on him completely. Compared to a woman like that, I'm certainly right to be confident, aren't I? Who knows, maybe after talking, he'll give up his sense of responsibility and choose true love.] Perhaps due to the "ghost of the past" effect, this post had an unusual number of comments. [I want to call the police so bad. There's a powerless feeling of not being able to reach through the screen.] [Who is B?! Save B! Save my sanity!!] [This is giving 'backdoor' sister confidence! Find that B! I need to tell them loudly!] [And the poor soul whose spot she took! Notify them too!] [Did she specialize in digging up graves in her past life? In this life, she's digging up people's jobs AND their partners?] [If I see another post like this, my stocks and gold will surge.] …How unfortunate. The "poor soul" was me. "B" was also me. I realized with chilling clarity. It wasn't that Liam had suddenly stopped loving me. It was that Liam had never loved me at all. Because his heart belonged to a lost love from his youth. And I had always been competing with a phantom.
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