When the Past Won't Leave"

Five years later to the day, I walked into the interview room under a new identity: Arthur Stone.

Sitting at the head of the table was a rising star in the business world, Leslie Reed, a woman I once had a complicated history with.

Her gaze lingered on my photo. Twenty-eight? Already have a child? she asked, her tone detached.

Meeting her probing stare, I calmly replied, "Yes, my name is Arthur Stone. Married with one daughter."

The man I am today is no longer the disgraced young master with a large birthmark on his face, mocked by others. I changed my name and removed that birthmark. Naturally, she wouldn't recognize me.

Flashback to five years ago, the day my family went bankrupt, I forced Leslie Reed to spend one last night with me.

Waking up the next morning, I threw the last of my money at her. "You can get out now. Go find another rich man. You don't have to demean yourself by serving an ugly freak like me anymore."

Afterward, I was driven out of my home by the asset liquidators, the birthmark on my face a laughingstock for all to point at.

Meanwhile, her friends gloated, congratulating her: "With a beautiful face like Leslie's, how many rich and handsome men are lining up? Why would you ever stoop to that ugly man?"

"Now that he's bankrupt, he surely won't bother you anymore."

From impoverished campus beauty to business magnate, Leslie Reed took five years to transform.

And I, too, completely reinvented myself in those five years, starting anew with a fresh identity.

1.

I never imagined the resume I submitted would land in Leslie Reed's hands, for her to formally interview me.

The moment I pushed open the door, my breath hitched for a second.

Leslie Reed sat at her office desk, a cascade of long hair falling behind her. A pair of rimless glasses perched on her elegant nose, and her slender fingers were turning the pages of my resume.

Her gaze shifted from my photo to my face, her expression cool and aloof:

"Arthur Stone? Graduated from Sterling University? Applying for a personal assistant?"

She tapped her finger on the desk, then lazily lifted her eyelids. "Do you know what a personal assistant does?"

"To put it crudely, it's a housekeeper. I have a lot of daily tasks, and you'll need to pay attention to many details."

She continued speaking, but my thoughts drifted to the night we parted years ago.

That year, she wore a faded shirt, awkwardly straddling me, tearing at the buttons of my collar, kissing me without any grace.

I forced a cynical laugh:

"I'm bankrupt now. You don't have to work so hard.

"You must be the happiest one, finally free from having to debase yourself to serve a freak like me. My face must disgust you, right?

"Don't worry, even bankrupt, I can still afford to buy one more night with you."

She remained silent, her beautiful eyes betraying no clear emotion, as if ashamed yet indignant, before skillfully nestling into my embrace again.

When it ended, I threw a card at her, buying out my absurd first half of life.

"Made up your mind?"

Her finger tapped the desk, her voice cold and sharp, her pupils calm and dark.

She hadn't recognized me.

I instinctively touched my face; the large bluish birthmark was gone, as were the red rashes caused by layers of makeup.

The man I was now had a slightly gaunt face, unadorned, plain and unassuming, completely unrecognizable from before.

Not to mention I'd changed my name.

"Yes, I have."

I suppressed the swirling emotions, resuming a temporary, false calm.

"Excellent. You can start today. Mr. Evans will brief you on the situation."

She raised her hand, dismissing me, without another glance.

I discreetly exited. The moment the office door closed, my suspended heart finally settled.

If I could, I never wanted to have too much contact with Leslie Reed again in this lifetime.

She was the unattainable beauty of the academy; dirty, despicable, bitter, and ugly were my epithets.

It was I who insisted on using money to buy out and crush Leslie Reed's self-esteem.

And selfishly, I made her bear me a daughter.

Tragically, our daughter has now been diagnosed with a brain tumor and requires surgery.

Like an unbreakable karmic bond, it had come full circle, and for the sake of our child, I found myself back at her company.

For the next few days, I was somewhat distracted.

My daughter's surgery was imminent, and there was so much to prepare.

The third time I asked Leslie Reed for leave, her answer was merciless:

"Last time. Next time, don't bother coming in."

I knew. But today was my daughter's birthday, and she so desperately wanted to go to the amusement park. With the surgery imminent, I was truly afraid there wouldn't be another chance.

Gritting my teeth, I still played with my daughter at the amusement park until the afternoon.

On the way back, the sky suddenly opened up with a torrential downpour, and we huddled under a street awning.

Just as I opened my phone to call a ride, my daughter suddenly broke free of my hand, wobbling after a dropped toy.

By the time I reacted, she had already dashed into the rain.

Watching a distant car speed out of the rain, my heart leaped into my throat. Just as I was about to scream,

a fair hand, quicker than mine, snatched my daughter back.

"Arthur Stone!"

Amidst the pouring rain, the woman's voice was cold and low.

I stared up, dazed, as if in a dream. Leslie Reed stood before me, tightly holding my daughter's hand.

She didn't have an umbrella; water streamed ceaselessly down her hair, cheeks, and chin, soaking her expensive suit.

Her eyes were as aloof and stern as ever, but now, a hint of suppressed anger showed through.

"Thank you, Ms. Reed"

I hurriedly hid my child behind me, not prompting her to say thank you as usual.

Leslie Reed glanced at us, her tone leaving no room for argument: "Get in the car."

2.

Leslie Reed's cold demeanor was too intimidating.

I led my daughter into the car, my heart pounding, unconsciously crumpling my clothes.

Water still dripped from the stray hairs on her forehead. She picked up a towel and handed it to me:

"Don't let the child catch a chill."

I was still stunned, but Sunny had already taken it, thanking "Auntie" in a clear voice.

Leslie Reed's expression softened considerably. Her gaze fell on my bewildered face, and she frowned again:

"You took leave today just to get soaked in the rain?"

Realizing her words sounded a bit sharp, she rubbed her throbbing temples. "Where to?"

"City Hospital."

Sunny spoke up first, defending me:

"Daddy is here with me for my birthday today. I haven't been out to play for so long because I've been in the hospital."

Leslie Reed paused, looking at the unafraid girl before her.

Her face was somewhat thin, with a sickly pallor that made her large eyes appear bright and round. When she blinked at people, it stirred a strange, indescribable emotion in Leslie Reed's heart.

She felt the child was vaguely familiar, and almost instinctively asked:

"Where's the child's mother?"

"She passed away. A long time ago."

I quickly spoke, the first words I uttered since getting in the car.

Of course, it was a lie. Of course, after I left without a word, Leslie Reed hadn't escaped the abyss. She became pregnant, and for some reason, insisted on having the child.

Rumors swallowed her whole like a tide.

At twenty-three, she gave birth to a baby girl in a small clinic on a street corner.

Without even looking at the child, she was told by the doctor that the baby had suffocated and couldn't be saved.

It was as if it was destined, she thought. She and that man were destined for no happy ending.

But she didn't know that the child hadn't died; I had taken her abroad. A person like her, how could I let her life be ruined by something as dirty as me?

"Thank you, Ms. Reed. My child has been a bit busy recently with some issues, but it won't happen again. I'll make sure to complete my work properly."

As my words fell, Leslie Reed's gaze shifted from my daughter to me.

On the woman's beautiful, stern face, her dark eyes were deep, making my heart skip a beat.

I instinctively looked away. Leslie Reed had nothing more to say, leaning back in her seat, closing her eyes to rest. She simply instructed the driver, "To City Hospital."

The car quickly arrived at its destination.

Leslie Reed got out first. She pulled out a black umbrella, her slender fingers lightly clutching the handle, gesturing for me to get out.

"Thank you, Ms. Reed, no need to see us off. I'll return the umbrella tomorrow."

I mumbled, just wanting to escape quickly.

"I only have one umbrella." She stood in front of the car door, her light voice sounding before me.

The implication was clear: if I lent it to you, what would I use?

I had no choice but to give up, holding my daughter and sharing the umbrella with her.

Being so close to her, Leslie Reed could faintly smell the laundry detergent clinging to my shirt. For some reason, it felt familiar, and her chest inexplicably tightened, her heart beginning to beat erratically.

She took a deep breath, and to distract herself, she spoke:

"Less than a month on the job, a few scattered hours of leave before, and now a whole day. You're busier than I am."

I was both ashamed and agitated, lowering my gaze and saying nothing.

Inside the hospital, I handed Sunny over to the doctor for her check-up. Glancing back, Leslie Reed was still standing behind me, with no intention of leaving.

I walked up to her, forcing a laugh. "Does Ms. Reed have any other arrangements? My personal matters are handled; I can return to the company to work."

She didn't answer me, only asked, "What's wrong with the child?"

I didnt understand what she meant, but I answered truthfully, "She has a tumor and needs surgery."

"In that case, I suggest you look for a different job."

I paused, looking up at her. Her expression was as indifferent as ever.

"Being my personal assistant is very demanding. I don't need someone who's constantly distracted and just trying to coast by."

She abruptly changed the subject, speaking from a position of authority. Her words were direct, almost harsh.

A ringing filled my ears.

My eyes reddened at the edges, and I let out a cold laugh. "I've only been employed for a week, Ms. Reed. How do you conclude I'm just coasting by?"

"My leave was due to legitimate reasons, and it was taken while ensuring my work was completed. I don't believe I've been negligent in any way."

Leslie Reed listened to every word, then fell uncharacteristically silent.

She stared intently into my eyes, noticing a different emotion in me for the first time.

From the moment she first saw me, she found me strangely quiet, or rather, evasive. Like a rat scurrying from the light.

Now, as she met my gaze, seeing my constantly shifting, dodging eyes, something seemed familiar.

So she abruptly asked, "Have we met somewhere before?"

3.

My blood froze for a moment, and my clenched palms felt clammy with tension.

"Is Ms. Reed trying to change the subject? Do you find my previous statement too accurate to refute?"

I lifted my head, trying to cut off Leslie Reed's absurd notion with a sharp retort.

She paused noticeably for two seconds.

Those two seconds stretched, pulling at my heart.

"You're not wrong, I am."

She scoffed softly, her tone echoing a hint of self-mockery.

With that, she turned and left.

The next day, everything at the company proceeded as usual. Leslie Reed appeared, but didn't spare me a single glance, as if nothing had happened.

Towards the end of the workday, Mr. Evans emerged from the office, looking rather displeased.

He mumbled softly, "What's wrong with Ms. Reed this time? She suddenly asked me to look up a college classmate."

The words "college classmate" pierced my ears.

My heart, however, churned like a surging tide.

I spoke with difficulty, "Mr. Evans, who is the person Ms. Reed is looking for? Perhaps I know them too."

"Oh right, you both went to Sterling University. It's a man named Jasper Hayes."

He even kindly flipped over the printed photo for me to see.

The man in the photo was tall and slender, with a somber expression. A thin layer of white powder covered his face, but the greenish-black birthmark clung to his cheek like a demonic claw, almost leaping out.

Leslie Reed was looking for me!

This news was like a thorn, lodged in my heart, making me increasingly uneasy.

So much so that when Leslie Reed called me into her office as usual at noon, I was still somewhat dazed.

As I made her coffee, I could feel her cold gaze laced with intense scrutiny.

"Arthur Stone, you also went to Sterling University? Which department?"

"I find you somewhat familiar."

My entire body tensed, I gripped the coffee cup tightly, my breathing laced with a tremor.

"Communications. I participated in a few volunteer activities during university, perhaps I crossed paths with you then, Ms. Reed."

"Oh, is that so?"

She took the coffee cup, her gaze falling on the rippling liquid inside, and smiled enigmatically.

Then she abruptly asked, "Do you know Jasper Hayes from the Business and Economics department?"

"I think I heard the name, but I don't really remember."

I forced a smile as I replied, glad that Leslie Reed didn't seem to notice the perfunctoriness in my words, only letting out a soft hum.

I quickly finished organizing the documents on my desk and exited the office.

But I didn't notice the woman behind me, her gaze shifting from my retreating back to her desk.

She picked up the two photos lying there, trying to overlap them.

After work that day, my long-unused email mysteriously received another message.

It was from my former academic advisor, saying my thesis needed to be sampled for review and asking for a contact number.

The doctor beside me was giving me instructions for Sunny's pre-operative care. So much so that I didn't question the authenticity, I hastily replied with a string of numbers, then turned off my phone to listen attentively.

Leaving the clinic, I walked down the corridor towards Sunny's room.

But I froze at the sight before me.

In the distance, Sunny was holding Leslie Reed's hand, waving at me from afar.

My hand gripped the doorknob tightly, my whole body taut like a string.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, and quickened my pace.

Sunny was looking up, talking, her voice gradually becoming clear:

"I'm not afraid of pain. I'll be like Mama. Mama fought a big monster on her face and won, so Sunny will definitely defeat the demon in her body too."

The child's words were jumbled. Leslie Reed seemed not to understand, paused, and asked something.

I broke out in a cold sweat, quickly interjecting to stop Sunny from saying more: "Sunny!"

A passing nurse greeted me, complimenting, "Mr. Stone, Sunny really looks like her mother, practically carved from the same mold."

"She's not. Her mother passed away a long time ago."

No one knew my panic at that moment. My violently pounding heart almost burst my eardrums, and my voice was parched.

The young nurse awkwardly walked past.

Leslie Reed nodded at me, her gaze indifferent, seemingly not taking the nurse's words to heart.

I breathed a sigh of relief. I took Sunny's hand and thanked Leslie Reed.

Sunny's surgery was less than two days away.

I was struggling with how to ask Leslie Reed for leave.

Mr. Evans walked out of the office, his face full of worry. Our eyes met, and he looked like he wanted to say something but held back.

He sighed, then finally spoke:

"Arthur, tell me the truth, which university did you actually graduate from? This can't be faked."

My hand trembled, and cold sweat immediately beaded on my forehead.

I could only feign helplessness, forcing a smile. "What do you mean, Mr. Evans? Didn't I graduate from Sterling University?"

"Ms. Reed asked me to investigate you. There's no Arthur Stone in the Communications department at Sterling University."

Something exploded in my head. In that moment, my mind went blank, unable to think.

"You'd better think about how you're going to explain this to Ms. Reed later."

He advised.

I stood rooted to the spot, unable to move.

After a full minute, my clogged brain finally started to think.

I quickly drafted a resignation letter, cleared my desk, and marched straight into Leslie Reed's office.

"I apologize, Ms. Reed. I admit I didn't graduate from Sterling University. I falsified my qualifications and lied to you.

"Sunny needs surgery in two days. I can't handle this job, nor do I have the face to continue.

"Thank you for your care this past month. I've left my resignation letter here."

I couldn't give Leslie Reed a chance to investigate further.

Otherwise, she would discover that Arthur Stone, five years ago, was actually Jasper Hayes.

For this, I gritted my teeth, lowering my head as I stepped forward, ready to throw the resignation letter onto Leslie Reed's desk and run.

But a slender hand gripped my wrist, with surprising strength.

I looked up, falling into Leslie Reed's dark eyes, which held an infinite storm.

She spoke, syllable by syllable,

in an incredibly certain and assured tone.

Her words, uttered through clenched teeth, dragged me back to my most unbearable past:

"Jasper, how long are you going to keep playing games with me?"