Elisa’s condition had been unstable, at any moment she could be in danger, or she could remain in a vegetative state.
In the blink of an eye, Hamish had been at the hospital for a month. The ward had become another workspace for him. He quietly worked while looking after Elisa, talking to her whenever he had the chance. The doctors said that talking to her more might stimulate her brain to wake up.
Hamish cleared out a lot of time to be with Elisa, playing her favorite violin music and giving her massages. A person in a vegetative state lying in bed for so long would lead to muscle atrophy. Even if she were to wake up one day, she wouldn’t be able to move like a normal person. Every day, Hamish spent a lot of time massaging her legs and moving her body to keep her muscles and bones active.
The wounds on Elisa’s fingers had started to slowly heal and scar over. When the bandage was removed, her fingertips were covered in countless needle holes, as if they would never disappear.
These were Elisa’s hands. Once, they were delicate and fair, but now they had turned into small radishes. Hamish looked at her bare fingertips and his pupils contracted for a moment.
Hamish’s breath caught for a moment, “Will her nails grow back?”
The doctor shook his head, “They won’t recover, unless she gets artificial nails.”
Elisa was a perfect woman, inside and out, from head to toe. But now, her hands were simply unbearable to look at.
He knew her hand injury was severe. Not only was she permanently disabled, but her nails would never recover. He had always thought that there hadn’t been much change between them after so many years together, but in reality, the only one who hadn’t changed was him. Over the years, everything had changed; Elisa was no longer the Elisa from years past. He had worn away all their emotions.
…
Elisa had even chosen to conceal the fact that she had stomach cancer. What else did she have that he didn’t know about?
Hamish had asked Tobias to clear out their villa in North Bankshire. While this clean-up was happening, some items were found in the basement. Tobias brought a wooden box to the hospital. “Mr. Burns, this was found in the underground storage. It seems quite secretive, and I haven’t opened it. It should all belong to Mrs. Burns.”
Elisa’s? What could be inside? After a while, Hamish got up and squatted down.
The wooden box was locked, so he forcefully pried it open. Inside, various items were revealed, looking quite old. Hamish furrowed his brow, thinking it would be something else, but it turned out to be a pile of odds and ends.
The box contained all sorts of things: folded paper cranes, half-knitted scarves, and over a dozen paintings, all with a somewhat naive style, likely painted in childhood, none of them featuring faces.
After flipping through a few more, Hamish froze.
Tobias curiously leaned in, “Mr. Burns, this painting looks like you.”
It wasn’t “like” him; the paintings were indeed of Hamish-reading, working, eating, sleeping… like a series of albums documenting daily life.
Suddenly, Hamish’s eyes grew warm, and there was an indescribable, poignant ache in his chest.
Ever since he learned that Elisa mistook him for the person who had saved her sixteen years ago, Hamish had been suspecting her feelings for him. If it hadn’t been for that initial “mistake,” would Elisa not have liked him at all? But if there were no feelings, why would she paint him?
A surge of impulse rose within Hamish, and the silent heart that had been dormant for a month suddenly stirred.
After taking out the paintings, at the bottom of the box, he found a notebook.
It was a diary, with Elisa’s handwriting on the cover, but the pages inside were incomplete and torn.
Hamish turned to the first page.
May xxxx
It’s almost summer, but the weather has been awful lately, raining all the time, so cold.
All I do is work, will it always be like this for me, even at eighteen?
Grandfather said he would leave everything to me to manage Powell Group well, but I don’t want to manage. My dream is to become a violinist.
Today, Dad scolded me again, saying I’m a burden, and that I’m a nobody. But if I’m a nobody, then who is he?
June xxxx
I finally saw him! It’s been ten years, I didn’t expect him to still look so handsome. I wonder if my red dress caught his eye, I wonder if he remembers me.
He’s still the same young man, unchanged in the slightest.
August xxxx
I want to marry him, I’m going crazy wanting to marry him. I’ve known him for twelve years, and I’ve been planning for twelve years. No matter what, I want to be with him.
But it seems like he might like someone else, someone named Lila.
What does that lotus flower have that I don’t? Is she prettier than me? Does she have a better figure than me? Is she richer than me? She has nothing!
… No, she has Hamish, the Hamish I’ve liked for twelve years.
November xxxx
It feels like we’ve skipped autumn and gone straight into winter. I don’t know if it’s because of the blood draw, but I feel so cold, colder than any other winter.
I finally married Hamish, but he doesn’t like me.
Sometimes I feel like Hamish has no taste, but then I feel like I’m cheap. He doesn’t like me, yet here I am, eagerly seeking his attention.
Other than a marriage certificate, we have nothing. I had prepared my wedding dress for so long, the media praised my beauty, but only Hamish said I was nauseating.
At the wedding, Hamish drank a lot, and that night, he held me, but called out Lila’s name.
Hamish is a big boor!
Hamish paused as he read these words. The Elisa in the diary was completely different from the Elisa he had known.
During those first few years of marriage, Elisa had been submissive and gentle in front of him, making him believe she had no temper at all. He never expected that she was pretending to be obedient while cursing him behind his back.
He glanced at Elisa sleeping on the bed, and his eyes grew warm once again.
He continued flipping through the pages.
November xxxx
Hamish is away on a business trip, I don’t know when he’ll be back. In truth, I know it’s not that he doesn’t want to come back, he just doesn’t want to see me.
Today, I saw a hot search in entertainment news. Hamish and Lila went skiing. I wonder if he’s cold, I should knit him a scarf.
…
Three months have passed, it’s almost spring, he won’t need the scarf anymore, should I unravel it?
…
Hamish has finally returned. I prepared a few of his favorite dishes, but I accidentally made an entire table full. I really am a culinary genius.
It’s already 2:30 in the morning, and he’s still not back. I won’t cook for him next time!
…
Today, I saw him on the financial news channel, my taste in men is truly excellent, much better looking than those young idols.
January xxxx
I had a dream. In the dream, Hamish drained me of all my blood, it hurt so much…
Four years of marriage, and I’ve failed at everything, achieving nothing.
March xxxx
Spring should be a season of growth, so why am I close to death?
I have stomach cancer. The doctor said without treatment, I might not live for more than two years. I tore up the test report and threw it in a roadside trash can.
I’m dying, and I won’t tell anyone, including Hamish, about this secret.
It’s so cold on rainy days. If there’s another life, I won’t love anyone again.
Sometimes I think, aside from hurting me, what has Hamish left me with in these four years? He left me a ring I bought on a whim from the roadside, a ring that I can’t hold onto now.
They say that through hardship, one becomes superior. I’ve never had much ambition since I was young; I never thought I’d become superior one day. But the suffering of this world… has never let me be.
The day I die, Hamish should be very happy. I wish him fulfillment in the days without me.
Inside the hospital room, Hamish silently read from beginning to end. The last passage was written with obvious trembling, and there were a few smudges of blood.
Hamish held the notebook tightly, his Adam’s apple trembling as if he might cry at any moment.