Hamish felt like it wasn’t his lungs that were bad, but his brain was, as if he had gone mad, entangling himself in an impossibility.
In the past two months, he hadn’t actively sought out Elisa, but he was like a voyeur, tracking her every move. He knew where she was filming, where she was staying, so he rented a place nearby.
Elisa didn’t appreciate the gifts he gave her. He used the pretext of being a fan to send support to the set, or infiltrated fan groups to learn everything about Elisa, raising funds. Because of his generous donations, Hamish had made a name for himself in the fan community.
Today was the official wrap party for the movie. Early in the morning, Hamish got wind of the news and found out where the crew was gathering. He booked a private room at the hotel and tipped the waiter to keep an eye on them.
When he found out that Elisa had left, he left too, secretly following her, watching her take Louis’s hand and get into the car.
He followed her all the way here, until Elisa and Louis went inside, he didn’t leave.
He didn’t know why, he just couldn’t accept it. He wanted to wait for Elisa to come out.
In the car with the heater on, it wasn’t cold, but Hamish sat there, looking at the lit-up villa. What was Elisa doing?
Hamish pondered this question. The heater was on in the car, but the warmth didn’t reach him. Even though he was in the car, he felt as if he were outside, as if his blood had turned to ice.
He kept staring in that direction until his eyes grew sore, but Elisa still hadn’t come out.
After driving around the villa once, he finally stopped in the eastward direction, where the light in that room had been on the whole time. If he guessed correctly, it should be the bedroom.
He rolled down the car window and looked, hesitating. The curtain was not completely drawn, and he could faintly see two figures inside, overlapping, then disappearing.
Hamish felt a hitch in his breath, his heart suddenly in his throat. The air in his chest tightened, making it hard for him to breathe. He looked on, feeling hot tears welling up. The world that had been spinning fast suddenly felt like it had stopped…
It was so late, the two of them were in the same room, two overlapping figures. What could they possibly be doing on this cold winter night?
Hamish didn’t dare to think. He had followed Elisa for over a month. Although she was affectionate with Louis, they slept in separate rooms, not together.
Hamish had thought about a day like this before. After all, the two of them would eventually live together and something would happen.
He had been prepared when Louis mocked him and he saw the photo of Elisa with Louis, but when this scene was laid bare before him…
Hamish had a splitting headache. He looked at his trembling hands, fingers cold, rubbing against each other, feeling as if his hands were covered in needles, wanting to reach out and pluck them off.
He averted his gaze, looking at his reflection in the rearview mirror.
For a moment, he almost didn’t recognize himself. His eyes were surrounded by fine red lines, lifeless, with dark circles under his eyes, stubble appearing on his chin, making him look disheveled.
How had it come to this? Hamish asked himself over and over.
He had once fantasized about Elisa returning to him, the two of them living together. He had learned so much now, he could do housework, laundry, cooking, all without Elisa’s help. He could set aside his work and spend every day with Elisa, supporting her career. Whenever they had time, they would go on dates, go to the places she wanted to go, and come home to embrace each other at night.
But it shouldn’t have been like this…
Beautiful fantasies were always just that-fantasies. The person he had once held for warmth and tenderness was now lying upstairs in another man’s arms.
Longing turned into an all-encompassing pain, occupying every corner of his body. He desperately wanted to do something to vent, looking at the rearview mirror, Hamish clenched his fists and smashed it, cracking the glass. He seemed to lose consciousness, relentlessly striking it until the mirror fell off, and then he stopped.
His right hand was already bloody, the back of it throbbing with pain. Looking at the mess in front of him, Hamish’s hand went limp, resting on his knee, blood soaking his pants.
He never truly believed Louis had touched Elisa, because he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. And now, here he was downstairs, about fifteen meters away, seemingly able to imagine what was happening inside.
As long as… as long as Elisa came out tonight, as long as she came out, everything would be okay.
Hamish comforted himself in this way, but the result he ultimately waited for was the light in that room going out, plunging into darkness…
Hamish was suddenly at a loss. At that moment, he didn’t know the purpose of his following her. Why had he been waiting downstairs, why had he been watching that room all this time?
Was it all just to wait for such a “truth” and resign himself to it?
When would this torment come to an end?
His chest began to ache again. Hamish couldn’t tell if it was his heart or his lungs hurting. When it hurt, he needed to take medicine. He opened the car drawer and took out a bottle of pills, pouring four into his mouth. It was a struggle, enduring from nightfall to daybreak, until it was light out, and Elisa still hadn’t come out of the main door.