Nighttime. In the master bedroom upstairs at Emerald Bay, Ivan emerged from the shower with his black hair half-dry and half-wet, wrapped in a white bathrobe. He sat down in the armchair by the window, his expression distant and pensive as he gazed into the night outside, seemingly lost in thought.
After a while, Jennifer entered quietly, wearing a nightgown and carrying two cups of warm milk. Hearing her footsteps, Ivan snapped back to reality. As he turned, his wife was already beside him, offering him a cup of milk.
“What’s wrong?” Jennifer asked with concern. “Are you troubled?”
Having been together for so long, she could always tell when he had something on his mind.
Ivan sighed softly and said to her, “Tomorrow is my father’s birthday.”
Jennifer knew this too. Their eyes met, but she didn’t know what to say. Every time his father was mentioned, Ivan would become somewhat despondent.
For Ivan, one of the most successful men in Arkpool City’s business circle, even though he was very happy now, the lack of paternal love and the experiences of his childhood left indelible scars.
Jennifer could only sit with him on the sofa, put down her cup, hold his hand, and silently accompany him.
Yes, Ivan occasionally missed his father but also resented him. This conflicting feeling was a torment for him.
On the same night, Spencer sat on his terrace at home, sipping tea and admiring the bright moon in the sky. He looked a bit lonely too.
Summer was still downstairs chatting with Mr. Campbell and Mrs. Campbell.
Spencer frowned slightly. He didn’t know what to do; it seemed he could forgive and let go of those who were alive but couldn’t do the same for those who had passed away.
Sometimes he often thought that maybe he wasn’t spiritually mature enough and needed more practice.
The next morning, Sunday. It was an overcast day with no sign of the sun; the sky was gray and carried an inexplicable sense of oppression.
A Lamborghini parked in the cemetery parking lot. Ivan, dressed in a black suit and holding a bouquet of chrysanthemums, got out of the car and walked alone towards the cemetery.
He didn’t bring his wife or children, nor any servants or bodyguards.
The cemetery was vast and quiet with neatly arranged tombstones everywhere. Long vines entwined ancient trees nearby; lush grass filled every corner, giving off a sense of solemnity and sorrow.
The air was fresh with sounds of insects and birds chirping around.
As Ivan walked deeper into the cemetery past numerous tombstones towards his father’s grave, his emotions grew heavier and more complex.
Climbing up the steps, Ivan stopped in front of his father’s tombstone. He looked at the familiar yet unfamiliar face in the photo.
His face showed no extra expression as if father and son were staring at each other.
Bending down to place the chrysanthemums gently before the tombstone, he said in a deep voice, “Happy birthday.”
He did not call him father or dad.
He stood there for a long time before speaking again. “If you meet my mother again in your next life, please treat her better-be more devoted, responsible, and serious; otherwise, I won’t forgive you.”
Only silence responded to him.
Not far away, Spencer had just taken a few steps holding a bouquet of lilies when he saw his brother’s familiar figure standing by their father’s tombstone. Quickly hiding behind a thick ancient tree!
Only after watching his brother leave-seeing him get into the Lamborghini and drive away-did Spencer finally peek out from behind the tree.