Heartstrings on Fire (Agnes and Jared)
Chapter 819

Agnes' cheeks were flushed, like two clouds ablaze with the setting sun.

She fidgeted in her seat, mumbling to herself in a restless undertone.

After Ryder got into the car, he managed, not without difficulty, to buckle her into the seatbelt.

But he didn't just start the car and drive away. Instead, he turned to study her face intently.

It felt like ages since he'd allowed himself such a luxury. In the past, he never dared to gaze at her so openly. After all these years, he always felt shackled, and each stolen glance was a secret treasure.

To be honest, Ryder was tired of that feeling. He was tired of lurking in the shadows, aching for the sunlight. It was blinding, it hurt, but he couldn't bring himself to settle in the dark corners where light never reached.

He didn't know how long he watched her. Memories flooded back as he looked at her face-most from their school days. Ryder remembered when they rehearsed a play together. It was "Romeo and Juliet". He was Romeo, and she was Juliet.

Night after night, they practiced their lines in the attic of Whitfield Manor.

Sometimes, Agnes would just collapse into the hammock chair and doze off.

He'd watch her then, much like he did now, as if only when her eyes were closed could his gaze wander freely and fearlessly.

Looking back, those moments were rare sparks of joy in his life-a celebration of youth and dreams.

Eventually, Ryder started the car. He drove along the city's elevated roads, with no clear destination in mind.

He knew Agnes was living with Jared now, at Maplewood Manor.

He'd driven past it twice, and never stopped. But in the end, selfishness overruled reason.

Ryder ended up taking Agnes to his high-rise apartment.

As they entered the elevator, they bumped into a neighbor from downstairs.

The apartment was one Ryder had rented during his internship at Hope Hospital. Before leaving, Ryder had bought it.

The building was mainly occupied by former colleagues from the hospital. Though it had been years, Ryder's return had rekindled old acquaintances. After sharing a meal, they reconnected. The downstairs neighbor was Dr. Kermit, the neurology department's former anesthesiologist.

Seeing Ryder carrying Agnes, he couldn't hide his curiosity, "Dr. Ryder, finally brought a girlfriend home, eh?"

Though Ryder was no longer practicing medicine, Dr. Kermit still called him Dr. Ryder.

Plus, his reputation in international medical circles remained notable.

Ryder managed a tight smile, "No, she's not." But he offered no further explanation.

Dr. Kermit's smile was mischievous, "We know you well enough. All of us in medicine tend to be a bit obsessive-compulsive. If she wasn't a girlfriend, would you be carrying her to your place?" The elevator reached the floor. Without a word, Ryder stepped out.

For some reason, the term 'girlfriend' stung like a thorn in his side.

He wasn't afraid of misunderstandings, nor did he feel the need to clarify.

It was as if when others got it wrong, he reveled in a fleeting illusion. As if, for just a second, Agnes was indeed his girlfriend.