Chapter 16
Waiting for death moves slowly yet passes in a heartbeat.
I’m finally dying.
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As if I truly have some sixth sense, I know with absolute certainty that my time has
come.
I video call Lucas to tell him I’m slipping away. He drops everything and rushes to my side.
He arrives just in time to see me one last time. “Lucas, I need to tell you some final things,” I say.
He nods frantically, “Of course, I’ll record it all on my phone.”
I want to smile but can’t summon the strength.
I don’t have many final wishes.
I still have some money left.
2
Yasmine’s million was almost gone, but I hadn’t touched the two hundred thousand from the PR stunt.
I’ve stored the money in two separate bank accounts – one for my mother, though she must never know it’s from me.
The other for Lucas.
After all these years, I owe him so much.
I’ve been so alone…
Lucas records everything between sobs.
“Lucas, I have one last wish,” I whisper, my voice fading.
“Yes, I’m listening,” he manages through tears.
I try to speak.
I’m so exhausted.
I don’t know if the words actually leave my mouth.
If they don’t, it’s okay.
It doesn’t really matter anymore.
I close my eyes for the final time.
In that moment, I see teenage James.
He’s wearing a crisp white shirt, so pure and bright.
He sits beside me in class, using his body to shield me from the harsh sunlight. I’m napping at my desk.
His gentle voice reaches me: “Sleep, Sophie. I’ll watch over you…”
My lips curve into a smile.
P 1/2
12:06 PM Mon 28 Apr
16
James.
If there’s another life, I promise I’ll love you completely.
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1
Epilogue: James’s Story
I haven’t been back to my hometown in years.
This film role brought me back to this city.
I visited my mother and half–brother.
They were polite to me.
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Regardless of our relationship, I send them substantial money monthly. For that, at least, they don’t treat me poorly.
But there’s no genuine feeling there.
When I left their house, I could practically feel their relief.
I doubt I’ll return again for a very long time.
2
My final scene in my hometown was filmed at a coastal location.
It was remote but perfect for exterior shots.
While waiting between takes, I wandered to find the right emotional headspace. I stumbled upon a modest grave.
A small mound, solitary amid tall grasses.
If not for the withered white roses placed before it, I might not have recognized it as a grave.
Who would choose to be buried in such an isolated place?
No nearby village or town, making it nearly impossible for loved ones to visit regularly.
Yet for some inexplicable reason, seeing this grave pierced my heart with unbearable pain.
As if someone profoundly important to me lay buried there.
Or perhaps the grave’s isolation sparked my compassion?
I couldn’t distinguish which.
I only knew that tears flowed uncontrollably down my face.
Even after returning to Los Angeles, I found myself thinking of it often. Each time,
my chest would constrict with inexplicable, overwhelming grief…
3
My college classmate, who organized our reunion, insisted I attend.
“A Hollywood star can’t be too good for us. I’ll expose you to the tabloids,” he joked. I casually asked, “Will Lucas be there?”
He confirmed yes.
