Wrong Love, Final Goodbye: She'll Never Look Back

Chapter 434: Live a Long Life

The hospital room was blindingly white.The walls were white, the ceiling was white, even the bed was white.

This was the doctor’s challenge; Declan Pierce could bleed suddenly, and he needed to be detected immediately.

Declan Pierce’s hospital gown was also white, the only touch of color was his sunglasses—and the sketching pencil he never stopped holding, with hundreds of sheets scattered on the floor, each depicting the same woman.

Declan sat in the corner against the wall, with a sketchbook on his lap, holding a charcoal pencil, drawing incessantly.

He drew slowly, the sound the pencil made on paper was a gentle rustle, like the sound of walking over dry leaves in autumn. He was completely blind now, his eyes blocked by a gray haze, no light coming through, unable to see even an outline.

But drawing Tanya was something he didn’t need eyes for.

He had drawn her for so many years, he could see her with his eyes closed.

He was sketching Tanya, happy and radiant beside him.

She ran to him with a joyful smile, early winter sunlight shining on her like dazzling fragments of gold.

The room was so quiet that Declan could hear his uneven breathing, often having to pause.

Because it hurt so much.

Even though he was accustomed to this pain, his body wasn’t; the sharp pain crawling out from between his bones felt like countless hands using hammers to drive nails into his bones, while something else was crawling through his veins.

Dr. Wells prescribed him painkillers, but he started to secretly reduce the dosage recently; too many painkillers made him drowsy, and he wanted to stay awake, even if it meant enduring a bit of pain.

Because he could no longer dream of Tanya, he hadn’t seen her in his dreams for a long time.

In truth, he sometimes dreamed of her, seeing her sitting beside him, holding a cup of hot tea, asking him to come back. In the dream, he agreed, then woke up to find his head resting on a wet pillow. After this happened three or four times, Declan barely slept anymore, spending nights at the window sketching until dawn, once again closing his eyes in the morning light.

Jasper Monroe entered while Declan was sketching the hem of Tanya’s clothes. He heard footsteps but didn’t look up, his pencil never stopping.

Jasper Monroe stood at the door for a moment, his eyes slightly squinting behind his glasses. He was usually not so emotional, but every time he came to the hospital and saw Declan, there was something heavy stuck in his chest. He walked over and sat on the chair opposite Declan.

He called out Declan’s name, "Declan."

His voice was hoarse and deep.

Declan ignored him.

Jasper Monroe took a deep breath and persisted: "I asked Dr. Wells, you won’t die, you can live a long life as you wish. So, I beg you to cooperate with the treatment."

Declan’s pencil paused slightly, and he suddenly laughed, his voice was light and cold.

"Did Dr. Wells tell you that I am already blind, my hearing has deteriorated by fifty percent, and soon, I will be completely deaf. After that... it’s my hands and legs that will degrade."

Jasper Monroe’s jaw suddenly tightened.

Declan seemed to sense his change in emotions, smiled nonchalantly, and comforted him.

Declan: "Don’t worry, I won’t lose hope. I will... live a long life."

He had promised her.

Declan continued sketching, suddenly his whole body trembled as he felt an intense pain in his chest, vomiting blood.

Then, like a child who made a mistake, he scrambled to wipe the blood off the paper with his sleeve, staining the white cuff red.

Jasper Monroe finally couldn’t bear it and forcefully took Declan’s sketchbook away. The charcoal pencil left a slanted mark on the paper, and Declan finally raised his face, with his black sunglasses reflecting Jasper Monroe’s cold and stern face.

"Give it back." Declan said hoarsely.

Jasper Monroe looked at him for a while before speaking: "Tanya has left Aris and gone to Breyburn."

Declan was startled.

"Breyburn?" He repeated, his voice even hoarser than before.

"Yes. She applied to be a volunteer teacher at the most challenging elementary school there."

Declan said nothing, his hand hanging at his side, thin and angular, with the charcoal pencil resting on the paper, slowly creating a small gray stain.

Of course, he knew where Breyburn was. It was where his mother was born, a small town in the south, near the sea, with narrow winding old streets connected together. Occasionally, his mother would talk about the place before she died, saying there was a large banyan tree there, and in summer, it was full of the sound of cicadas, the evening sea breeze was very cool.

That was one of Declan’s few memories of his mother.

And Tanya knew this.

He thought that after he died, she would forget him over time. But it seemed now, his princess was more stubborn than he imagined... he had never understood her.

Just as Jasper Monroe was about to leave, Declan finally spoke, his voice was very low.

"Jasper Monroe, do me a favor..."

Spring comes earlier in the south than in the north.

Tanya Sinclair traveled all the way south from Aris, watching the scenery outside the train change from the gray city to vast fields, then mountains, and finally the sea. Tanya sat by the window, resting her head against the glass, listening to the rhythmic clatter of the wheels on the tracks, resembling some kind of hypnosis. She dozed off for a while, and when she woke up, she noticed a thin layer of mist on the window glass. The sky outside had already darkened, and distant lights flickered intermittently.

She rested her forehead against the cold glass, quietly watching for a long time.

She arrived at the station a little after seven in the evening. The lights were dim yellow, and only a few people stood on the platform. Tanya stepped off the train with her luggage, greeted by a salty sea breeze that seemed to loosen the long-standing burden in her chest.

The person meeting her was the principal of the town’s elementary school, an elderly woman with gray hair and a round face, whose surname was Crawford, Eleanor Crawford.

Despite her age, her voice was bright and clear. As soon as they met, she grasped Tanya’s hand, saying, "Ms. Sinclair! Oh my, you’re so young and slim, you must be exhausted from the journey! Come, come, follow me for dinner!"

Tanya was led a few steps forward by her, chuckling, "Principal Crawford, let me first put my luggage down."

"No rush, no rush, let’s eat first! Are you hungry? You must be starving! Let me tell you, the seafood in our town is fresh; you must try it!"

Principal Crawford’s enthusiasm was overwhelming, and Tanya responded with a smile, following her into a small car that looked about ten years old.

The night wind tousled her hair, and she reached up to smooth it down, watching low houses and streetlights flash by the roadside, finding the place quieter than expected.

The dining spot was a little eatery at the street corner, run by a dark, thin middle-aged man who grinned when he saw Principal Crawford, "Principal Crawford, bringing a new teacher again?"

"This is Ms. Sinclair! All the way from the big city!" Principal Crawford patted Tanya’s shoulder, her voice so loud that people at the neighboring table turned to look, "Ms. Sinclair, don’t let the place fool you, Mr. Lewis’s seafood noodles are simply extraordinary!"

Tanya Sinclair sat on a plastic chair, soon served with a steaming bowl of seafood noodles, the broth rich and white, piled high with shrimp and clams. She picked up her chopsticks and took a bite; the flavor was indeed excellent, fresh and savory.

Principal Crawford kept on about the town’s situation: the elementary school was small, from first to sixth grade, with a total of about 180 students and, including herself, only four teachers, often too busy. She asked Tanya Sinclair what she could teach, and after some thought, she replied that she could handle both math and language arts, and could cover science if needed. Principal Crawford was delighted, adding another scoop of spicy sauce for her.

By the time they finished dinner, it was nearly nine. Principal Crawford escorted Tanya Sinclair to the bungalow behind the school. The house was small, with one bedroom and a kitchenette, humble but tidy, the bedding new, an old desk lamp, and a pot of green vines beside the bed.

"The conditions are a bit basic, Ms. Sinclair, bear with us," Principal Crawford rubbed her hands, slightly embarrassed.

Tanya ran her fingers along the windowsill, finding no dust.

"It’s nice," she said, "better than I expected."

After Principal Crawford left, Tanya unpacked her suitcase, folding her clothes neatly and placing them in the closet. At the very bottom was a photo of her and Declan Pierce together.

She set the photo prominently on the bedside, then walked to the window, opening it to let the cool night breeze flood in, rendering her teary.

The next morning, Tanya Sinclair met Leo Rhodes.

He was the town’s only young male teacher, twenty-four, a local who returned to teach after graduating from Normal School. Tall, his skin rough from years of sea winds, his features neat and decent, smiling with dimples that made him seem approachable. He came out of the office carrying a stack of exercise books, almost dropping them when he stumbled upon Tanya Sinclair.

"You must be the new Ms. Sinclair?" He tucked the books under his arm, freeing a hand to shake hers, his ears slightly red, "Hello, hello, I’m Leo Rhodes, teaching fifth-grade math and PE."

Tanya shook his hand, feeling the warmth of his palm, and smiled, "Hello, I’m Tanya Sinclair, I’ll be teaching third-grade language arts and first and second-grade math."

"I know, I know, Principal Crawford told me yesterday." Leo Rhodes scratched the back of his head, his voice softening, "If you need anything, feel free to ask. Shopping isn’t convenient here; I can help when I visit the county weekly."

"Sure, thank you."

Tanya Sinclair’s first day of teaching involved twenty-seven third graders, sitting with curious, dark little faces, watching her on the podium, chalk in hand, feeling momentarily dazed. It had been ages since she last stood on a podium, back in college, substituting a few classes for juniors. But as she spoke, the children quieted down, looking at her with bright, eager eyes.

During lunch at the cafeteria, Leo Rhodes sat across from her, tray in hand. The cafeteria offered a simple meal: one meat, one vegetable, and seaweed egg soup, with Leo giving her a small portion of meat.

"You’re too skinny. Eat more." He averted his eyes, embarrassed, "We’re short on teachers; we can’t have you fall ill. Principal Crawford wants you here for good."

Tanya smiled, "Don’t worry, I’m not leaving anytime soon."

"Thank you."

After a short, quiet meal, Leo sneaked a few glances at her, finally daring to ask, "Ms. Sinclair, I heard from Principal Crawford that you’re quite a renowned expert in medicine, really impressive."

Curious, "Why would you come here to volunteer?"

Tanya turned towards the window, where the sunlight shone brightly on a row of glossy winter green bushes by the cafeteria entrance. She gazed at the sun-drenched leaves, softly saying, "This place is special to me."

Leo blinked, "Special?"

"It’s my lover’s hometown." Tanya smiled, "He always wanted to come back but didn’t get the chance. So, I’m here for him."

A flicker of disappointment crossed Leo’s eyes. But he also knew it well, such an outstanding girl was unlikely to be unattached.

He composed himself, "Your lover, he’s not with you?"

Tanya paused, lifting to meet Leo’s eyes with a smile.

"He passed away." She calmly replied.

Leo froze, opening his mouth, awkwardly apologizing, "I’m sorry, I didn’t know..."

"It’s alright." Tanya resumed eating, taking a piece of meat, chewing slowly, swallowing without much taste, a faint bitterness in her throat.

She bowed her head, finishing the remaining rice silently.

May long life prosper.