Chapter 3

I deeply loved Alex. Over the past ten years, this was an indisputable fact.

Back in high school, I was already by his side.

When my parents first heard his surname, their expressions were identical.

They were both university professors. A surname like Norston was a string of red flags to them.

"He's not right for you," my mother said.

My father didn't disagree, only reminding me: "Remember, you are not an appendage variable to anyone."

They didn't stop me.

Even though they already knew clearly that Alex and I were not from the same world.

I was young then, stubbornly believing that as long as I tried hard enough, I could always stay by Alex's side.

I stayed by Alex's side for ten years.

He had a weak stomach, always attending social functions. I learned to make easily digestible food: oatmeal porridge, pumpkin soup, puréed chicken breast.

I thought this was love.

Later I realized it was more like a self-depleting form of service.

Three years ago, he finally allowed me to become his girlfriend. One late night after a celebration party, perhaps under the influence of alcohol, he drove me home and kissed me downstairs at my apartment. The next day, he sent a message: "Let's give it a try."

No flowers, no formal question.

Just one "let's give it a try," and I was overjoyed, thinking I had finally opened that heavy door.

But in his friends' eyes, I was still not someone who could walk alongside Alex as an equal.

"You're quite good at taking care of people."

"Norston needs stable logistics support."

"She's so sensible, almost like an assistant."

Life assistant.

Alex had heard many such jokes about me, but he never stepped forward to correct anyone. He would just take a light sip of champagne and offer a dismissive comment.

"An apt summary."

He agreed.

Even though he had given me the title of girlfriend, he had always seen me as just a life assistant.

In the world he constructed, I was always looking up at him.

Always hidden behind him.

We were never equals, Alex.

I was truly tired of this distorted relationship.

The day after I sent the email canceling the wedding, I went home and told my parents I had decided not to marry Alex.

They naturally knew how stubborn I had been these ten years.

"Your father and I... ever since you came back from your high school prom, your eyes sparkling, saying 'Alex Norston talked to me today,' we knew... but we didn't dare say anything, afraid you'd be heartbroken, afraid you'd think we didn't understand..." My mother's voice choked.

"That boy never saw your worth." My father took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes hard. "These years have been hard on you."

Our family embraced tightly. In my parents' arms, I could finally cry freely.

For the foolish, blind girl of the past ten years.

For the Isabella who had finally woken up.

My phone suddenly rang, Alex's name flashing on the screen.

My mother looked at me with worry. My father frowned.

I dried my hands, answered the call, and put it on speaker.

"Isabella," his voice came through the receiver, the background noisy with the faint sound of waves and music. "I won't be coming home tonight. Selena wants to have a little party on the yacht, to see the night view. She doesn't have much time left. I want her to experience as many different things as possible..."

I looked at my parents' clasped hands, at the suppressed anger and heartache in their eyes.

Then I replied in an equally calm voice: "Okay. It's fine."

There was a pause on the other end. Alex seemed surprised I accepted so calmly. "Get some rest early."

The call ended.

"I've already agreed to join Dr. Amina," I leaned against my father's shoulder, my voice muffled. "The 'Prometheus' Project. The isolation period is at least eighteen months. On the wedding day... I'll be gone."

My mother gently patted my back. "Go. Go be the Dr. Isabella Kane who makes us proud. We'll be waiting for you to come back."

"It's only a year and a half," my father said, trying to sound casual. "Perfect timing—your mother has been wanting to go on an Antarctic expedition. I'll go with her. When you're out, we'll throw you a welcome-home party and listen to you talk about the cutting-edge scientific discoveries. That's way more interesting than any high-society gossip."

I laughed through my tears.

Yes.

Being yourself is far more interesting than being someone's life assistant.

Don't you think, Alex?