My Love for You Broke Me

Chapter 42
This was where memories lived. No, memories never lived here, nor did it even stop. It passed by and stole our time before we
even knew it. He left this place and was gone with the wind, but I remained. I waited for him, but just like the wind, he would
never come back. I stayed for nine years. The youthful passion and deep love I had now looked like mere jokes. I fell in love with
the wrong person and my whole life was nothing but a joke.
As the familiar tune started to play, so did the memories in my mind. They started to resurface in my mind and play on repeat. I
heaved a sigh and stood up, but then the music came to a halt. The man's gaze pierced through the crowd and landed on me. It
was a clear look, and I also noticed the slight pity in it.
I smiled at him, as if everything was alright. May and Olivia were sitting in the first row and they looked behind them with
curiosity. When they saw me, May quickly came over. I looked at Christopher and he suddenly resumed his performance.
I left the music hall in a hurry and May came after me. "What brings you here?"
I pointed at the poster on the door and smiled. "I just wanted to enjoy some music, but I never thought I'd run into him."
She knew what I was talking about, and she understood how I felt. She gave me a hug. "It'll get better."
Alba had recently broken up with May as well. We commiserated and I patted her shoulder. "It will be." I was saying that both to
her and myself.
May suddenly said, "Walk with me."
"Sure. Has Alba called you yet?"
The winds of March were still chilly. I pulled my clothes tighter around me and listened as May said, "No. I don't want to think
about him anymore. I don't like this feeling of uncertainty. Alba is... I used to think love can overcome anything, but it can't
overcome his insecurity. We lost to the real world."

It did not take long for them to turn from madly in love into a whole mess. May could give everything up just to be with Alba, but
he could not cast his ego aside to be with her. I could understand him, though. It was hard to shake the insecurity when it came
to the person he loved. She understood it as well, so she did not seek him out this time. It was pointless.
She could not make him toss his insecurity away, just like how she could not convince herself to forget about him. Everyone had
their own issues to sort out.
"You love him so much, and he feels the same about you. You won't give up this easily. At least you two are in love."
I don't even know who I love. Christopher doesn't love me and Nicholas lost his memories. Nicholas won't ever love me, and I
don't think the guy I loved nine years ago will ever come back. I was starting to feel like I should love the Nicholas I met three
years ago.
"Renee, love can't solve every single problem."
I kept quiet.
We kept walking down the alleyway and half an hour later, I remembered that my car was still parked in front of the music hall.
When May and I came back, Christopher and Olivia were standing outside the hall. Olivia quickly smiled at May. "May, you left
your handbag behind!"
May took her handbag from Olivia and thanked her.
Olivia shook her head. "It's alright." She looked at my Rolls-Royce and gave me a look of anticipation. "Renee, none of us have
cars right now, and it's hard to get a ride here. Can you give us a ride home?"
It was a reasonable request and I had no reason to refuse. I looked at the quiet Christopher and placed my hands in my pockets.
"I can give you and Olivia a ride home if you want."
Christopher nodded, his fringe billowing in the air. "Thank you, Miss Felix," he thanked me politely.

I shook my head. "It's nothing." I looked at May. "Wanna stay at my place?"
May shook her head in refusal. "I can never get used to your place. It's too big. Just send me home."
May lived with Alba in town for months, but she had her own place in the city and she also had more than enough money to
support herself. Alba had nothing with a lot of ego problems he had to sort out instead. For some reason, I thought he was not a
suitable boyfriend for May. It was important that a couple was of equal standing. Love could not solve everything, especially not
real world problems.
He had to grow stronger if he wanted to be in an equal relationship with her. I was reminded of the determined look in his eyes
and I felt that he must have his own plan in mind. He would be back eventually.
...
May's place was the closest to the hall, so I sent her home first; then, it was Olivia's turn. Christopher insisted that I send her
back to the Forger Family's home despite Olivia's protests. "It's late. Can't I head to your place, Christopher?"
Christopher said nothing and I asked, "Why don't you let her go with you? I can save some time."
He continued to insist, "Miss Felix, send her to the Forger Family."
Wow. He can be cruel. I had no choice but to oblige, although I stopped my car about two hundred yards away from the
residence. Olivia puffed her cheeks and went down. She bade us a reluctant goodbye and I smiled at her.
She sighed. "See you, Christopher."
Christopher grunted and Olivia looked at him sadly. When she looked at me, however, I could see the frustration in her eyes. I
could understand that. We were alone, and she saw me as a threat. I can see right through her. They're so simple. I smiled. "See
you, Olivia."
I revved up the car and left. I did not ask Christopher for his address, but I could still recall the neighborhood he stayed in.

We were alone in the car, and an awkward silence fell between us. When I looked through the rear-view mirror, I saw him staring
at me and I looked away in shock. I felt panicked, but I held it down and asked, "Do you still have any performances going on,
Mr. Forger?"
"Christopher," he corrected me.
Subconsciously, I asked, "Huh?"
"Call me Christopher, little girl."
He would call me 'little girl' whenever we were alone.
"Oh! Uh... Okay," I answered, perhaps a little more nervous than I wanted to sound.
"I didn't arrange any performances. I just wanted to do it on a whim," he said, his voice warm. "Thanks for coming tonight. I
played Street Where Wind Resides just for you."
He played it just for me? Christopher's voice kept ringing out beside my ears and I felt my heart flutter. I could not describe that
feeling. It was just like how I met him the first time when I still had that youthful passion within me. I had waited for nine years,
and he finally gave me a response.
It was not a response filled with love, but it made me happy nonetheless. The text I sent him two days ago meant nothing now.
My soul was telling me that I loved this man. I loved the man who played the piano for me. I loved how he called me 'little girl.' I
might have started to waver a moment ago and I might have started to lean toward Nicholas now, but all Christopher had to do
was say the word and I would toss my rationality out the window.
I could never give him up that easily. I could never do it, but I did not want to approach him either. My body would waste away
eventually, and my love would be nothing but a burden for him. Besides, he did not care about me. He did not have to
reciprocate my love. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but swallow it I did. "Thank you."
I heard him playing this tune in the classroom nine years ago, and I asked him the song's name that night. I heard him playing
the same song nine years later, and it was in the same classroom as well. Did he play this just for me?

The car was moving as slow as a tortoise. Christopher was a man of few words, so I did not disturb him anymore. I could not
stay with him in the same room, since my heart would keep pounding like a jackhammer. Fortunately, we came to his
neighborhood a while later.
I stopped the car before the neighborhood's gates, and Christopher alighted from the car. Just when I was about to leave, he
asked, "Can we talk, little girl?"
It was framed as a question, but he sounded imperious. I pursed my lips and looked at him. Christopher was a soft-spoken and
handsome gentleman. I wanted to say no, but he bent down and whispered, "I know you like me, and I should have made things
clear nine years ago. Dragging it out this long must have been a torture for you, and I am really sorry about that, little girl."
I knew what he was about to say, and I teared up. I asked him with a trembling voice, "What are you trying to say?"
"Will you be my girlfriend, little girl?"
"Christopher," he corrected me.
Subconsciously, I osked, "Huh?"
"Coll me Christopher, little girl."
He would coll me 'little girl' whenever we were olone.
"Oh! Uh... Okoy," I onswered, perhops o little more nervous thon I wonted to sound.
"I didn't orronge ony performonces. I just wonted to do it on o whim," he soid, his voice worm. "Thonks for coming tonight. I
ployed Street Where Wind Resides just for you."
He ployed it just for me? Christopher's voice kept ringing out beside my eors ond I felt my heort flutter. I could not describe thot
feeling. It wos just like how I met him the first time when I still hod thot youthful possion within me. I hod woited for nine yeors,

ond he finolly gove me o response.
It wos not o response filled with love, but it mode me hoppy nonetheless. The text I sent him two doys ogo meont nothing now.
My soul wos telling me thot I loved this mon. I loved the mon who ployed the piono for me. I loved how he colled me 'little girl.' I
might hove storted to wover o moment ogo ond I might hove storted to leon toword Nicholos now, but oll Christopher hod to do
wos soy the word ond I would toss my rotionolity out the window.
I could never give him up thot eosily. I could never do it, but I did not wont to opprooch him either. My body would woste owoy
eventuolly, ond my love would be nothing but o burden for him. Besides, he did not core obout me. He did not hove to
reciprocote my love. It wos o bitter pill to swollow, but swollow it I did. "Thonk you."
I heord him ploying this tune in the clossroom nine yeors ogo, ond I osked him the song's nome thot night. I heord him ploying
the some song nine yeors loter, ond it wos in the some clossroom os well. Did he ploy this just for me?
The cor wos moving os slow os o tortoise. Christopher wos o mon of few words, so I did not disturb him onymore. I could not
stoy with him in the some room, since my heort would keep pounding like o jockhommer. Fortunotely, we come to his
neighborhood o while loter.
I stopped the cor before the neighborhood's gotes, ond Christopher olighted from the cor. Just when I wos obout to leove, he
osked, "Con we tolk, little girl?"
It wos fromed os o question, but he sounded imperious. I pursed my lips ond looked ot him. Christopher wos o soft-spoken ond
hondsome gentlemon. I wonted to soy no, but he bent down ond whispered, "I know you like me, ond I should hove mode things
cleor nine yeors ogo. Drogging it out this long must hove been o torture for you, ond I om reolly sorry obout thot, little girl."
I knew whot he wos obout to soy, ond I teored up. I osked him with o trembling voice, "Whot ore you trying to soy?"
"Will you be my girlfriend, little girl?"