Nelson teased her, “This time if you get drunk, I won’t take you home.”
Marilyn blushed and just giggled.
She got drunk again, and the driver had to carry her to the car. Marilyn half-lay on the seat, resting her head on her arm, looking up at Nelson sitting beside her, and mumbled, “Nelson, I miss you so much…”
Nelson sat in the back seat, her hair wrapped around his wrist, remaining silent.
Marilyn spoke softly, “When I first went out, I had no funds, no connections. Once, I took a long bus ride to a remote area in Southern California. An investor was vacationing at his private villa. By the time I arrived, it was already dark. But I had no other choice; my team needed money the next day. I had to muster the courage to go in alone with a flashlight.”
Thinking back now, that mountain must have been over a hundred stories high. Late at night, with no streetlights, she walked alone in the night breeze. Mosquitoes bit her exposed skin, and she had to be careful with every step. A single misstep could mean falling two stories down. She slid down quickly and ended up with a deep cut on her back from a large rock, bleeding profusely and in excruciating pain, leaving a deep scar.
As she climbed higher, she became even more cautious because another fall would mean certain death. Just before dawn, she saw the height from the mountain base and felt so much psychological pressure that her legs gave out.
Nelson was lighting a cigarette. At the words, his hand paused, thumb on the lighter, but he didn’t light it.
These weren’t isolated incidents; she did everything herself. If she hadn’t been so cautious and fearful, Marilyn probably wouldn’t be here now.
“Oh, and when I first started as an investigator, I staked out those companies every day from noon until late at night for a month without any results.”
“Every night, I had to walk through a chaotic alley to get back to my place. The alley was filled with people-idle thugs smoking cigarettes. Foreigners are generally more robust than us. Maybe I appeared too frequently and caught their attention. One day, while carrying my laptop home, they blocked my way.”
The cigarette was finally lit. Nelson took a deep drag, exhaling smoke that obscured his expression.
The Americans’ robust bodies were covered in terrifying tattoos. They grabbed Marilyn and pinned her to the ground, reeking of alcohol and violently tearing at her clothes. That was true despair-the overwhelming darkness made it feel like death was imminent and life was over.
Marilyn smiled as she recounted this and suddenly leaned closer to Nelson, her smile radiant. “Nelson, do you know what happened next?”
Nelson didn’t look at her.
Marilyn picked up the cigarette pack he had thrown on the ground and opened it. The black cigarettes were neatly arranged, thin and long. She took one out and pried the lighter from his palm-a silver-gray one he always used.
At first, he didn’t give it to her. But when she applied more force, maybe her nails hurt him, he let go.
Marilyn placed the cigarette between her lips and lit it. She took a deep drag, frowning as the harsh taste hit her harder than any cigarette she’d ever smoked, making her eyes water but she didn’t cough.
Nelson stubbed out his cigarette on the floor, burning a black hole in the fine carpet, ruining the entire piece.
“And then?”