Chapter 4

I went home alone, curled up in bed, sweating cold from the pain.

I took some sleeping pills, lying to myself.

Once I fell asleep, it wouldn't hurt anymore.

In a hazy state, I had a dream. I dreamt of when I was twenty, and Alistair was poor, but he loved me so, so much.

That year on my birthday, we passed a coffee shop. I saw a couple sitting by the glass window.

The girl held a piece of pure white cake in her hand; it looked exquisite, delicious, and expensive.

I still remember, it was snowing heavily that day. I scooped up a pile of snow, smiling at Alistair, asking him, "Alistair, doesn't this pile of snow look like cake?"

Alistair clenched his jaw, pulled me into a tight hug, hiding his reddened eyes from me.

Three days later, he appeared outside my dorm building with a large cake.

A whole cake cost $258.

And he, standing in the windy, snowy street, could only earn $100 after distributing three thousand flyers.

I looked at the frostbite on his fingers, my eyes welling up with pain.

I gritted my teeth and told him, "Alistair, your hands are meant for reading, for writing. They shouldn't be ruined just to make me happy."

I said I didn't deserve such an expensive cake at all…

Alistair frowned, immediately contradicting me.

He said, "Elara, you're the best girl in the world. You deserve all the good things in this world."

That day, I cried as I ate the entire cake. A long time has passed; I can no longer recall its taste.

I only know that after that day, I never seemed to have eaten a cake better than it.

I slept for a long time. Drowsily, I heard my phone ringing.

I answered and heard Alistair calling my name from the other end. "Elara."

I smiled softly, gently calling him back, "Alistair, it's snowing heavily. I want cake."

Without waiting for him to reply, I turned over and fell back into a deep sleep.