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Chapter 3
Quinten stared at me while speaking.
It seemed like waiting for me to give in..
When I agreed, would you accompany me to dye my hair and grow it long again?
But I just looked back at him indifferently.
“Go.”
“Anyway, there were only ten days left.”
Quinten remained silent and turned to step into the darkness of the night.
Never looked back again.
Seven days before the wedding.
I went to a tattoo shop in the outskirts of the city.
The boss’s wife was in her thirties, well–maintained, but with a world–weary look in her eyes.
She looked at me and asked, “What are you thinking about?”
I rolled up my sleeves and pointed at the QK on my wrist bone, revealing the gardenia below my
collarbone.
“Washed it all away.‘
The boss’s wife took a glance and said, “It would be painful to wash it off, and it would leave a scar.‘
I smiled and said, “I’m not afraid.”
What I am least afraid of now is pain.
As for the scarring—
I have so many scars all over my body, these two don’t make a difference.
Moreover, who knows, in another half a year, this body might turn into a pile of ashes.
The boss’s wife chatted with me, “Did you break up?”
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I laughed, “Hmm, it’s coming soon.”
“There were seven days left.”
The boss’s wife clicked her tongue and said, “So ceremonious, even breaking up has a countdown?”
Maybe it was because the shop was too quiet, or perhaps it was because I got along well with the boss lady, I don’t know why, but the moment I saw her, I felt like we were kindred spirits.
I started talking to her about the past. Back then, when Quinten was pursuing me, I gave him a deadline.
Three hundred days.
If he could persevere, I would go with him.
So, Quinten appeared in front of me every morning, counting the days.
“Countdown one hundred and seventy–nine days.”
“Kierra, in ninety–six days, you will be my girlfriend.”
“There was only one day left, my potential girlfriend.”
***
The boy who persevered through wind and rain for three hundred days to win me over.
But in the following decade.
Gradually grew tired.
I had a great conversation with the boss lady. While getting my tattoo removed, I mentioned to her the meanings behind those two spots.
The QK tattoo on my wrist bone was inked when Quinten and I were together for a year.
At that time, I was kidnapped by his enemies and used as a threat against him. Quinten went alone. to the appointment to save me.
Knowing it was a deadly situation, he went without any hesitation.
That time, he was almost killed by someone.
When he was discharged from the hospital, I went to a tattoo shop and got his initials tattooed on
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a community–wide meeting.
my wrist bone.
At that time, I naively thought.
I had decided on Quinten for this lifetime.
But that evening, when I presented my still reddened wrist to Quinten like a precious treasure, he
froze.
I was not moved as I had imagined.
He frowned and first asked me why, then asked if I was in pain.
Finally, he hugged me and said, “Don’t do it again in the future, I don’t like it.”
“I didn’t like it when you hurt yourself.”
“You were fine just the way you were, no need to change. I really liked how neat and flawless you
were, Kierra.” At that time, I was young and only thought he cared for me.
But little did they know, Quinten had actually spoken his mind.
And the gardenia on his chest was tattooed when Quinten swore that he would marry me when he turned twenty–eight. Quinten loved gardenias the most, loving their pure white flawlessness.
So I tattooed it on my chest.
Waiting for Quinten to marry me.
Now, Quinten finally set a wedding date for me when I was twenty–eight years old, and he is planning the wedding that will take place in seven days.
I, however, was planning how to leave him.
Although this body is already in a state of ruin, I still do not want to leave with any marks related to
him.
I pointed below the other collarbone and told the boss lady.
“I tattooed a trumpet–creeper over here.”
Quinten loved gardenias.
And I preferred trumpet–creeper.
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He wanted me to be pure and flawless.
But in the remaining days of my life, I insisted on being a trumpet–creeper that was proud above the high walls.
Chapter 3
