"Back in Manchester, life was simple and leisurely. My desires weren't strong or burning. But now? I've come to New York, landed a job at C&C, started university—everything's changed beyond recognition. I'm in and out of high-end places, but every one of those things is built on money. I have to work hard to earn it. My mindset has shifted. I want better material things. I've even lost that old sense of calm elegance. Every day I'm rushing between school and C&C, enslaved by survival and money."
"I rarely hear you talk like this. I didn't know you thought this way," Ned replied.
Sophie lowered her eyes; a dull ache began to spread in her chest. "Do I seem strange—wanting everything at once? I never used to have these 'thoughts,' but when…"
She took a deep breath, clutching her chest as she continued, "Ever since I learned my mother has brain cancer, I've felt utterly powerless. I can't do anything for her. No money, no connections, no power—not even time to be with her." Her voice broke into sobs. "I'm scared. I'm so scared that one day soon, my mother… she'll be gone from this world, and I'll never see her again…"
He waited quietly for her to go on.
"Only now do I truly realize how important it is to go along with what my mother wants, to stop being willful." Sophie pressed a hand to her heart, speaking slowly. "When I was little, I told her I'd earn tons of money one day and take her to the moon! I naively believed we'd make that dream come true."
"But now I understand how hard it is to keep a promise made without thinking. Even if I earn all that money, even if the day really comes… my mom probably won't be here to see it."
Then, on the phone, there was only the sound of Sophie's choking sobs… and silence.
"Sophie," he suddenly called her name, his voice low and gentle. "I'm glad you told me this."
"To earn money or to take a trip to the moon?" She sniffled.
"No—your mother. Your mother has brain cancer. What does she need? I can find the top specialists. I can get her into the best private hospital. I can cover all the medical costs—" Ned paused. "If you need more time with her, I can arrange a leave of absence from C&C. Your salary will keep coming."
Sophie suddenly realized she had actually mentioned her mother to him—and was crying on the phone. She went speechless, her cheeks burning as hot as her heart. But hearing Ned's cascade of offers, she still managed to reply, "No, no, Ned, you don't have to do any of that."
She could only bring up Mr. Jonathan Harrington. "After Mom collapsed and was rushed to the hospital, I ran into Uncle Jonathan at the entrance. He took care of everything—arranging the room, contacting specialists, even covering the medical bills… I already owe him far too much."
…
A long silence stretched on the other end of the line.
"Sophie, one day I'll die too. Most likely before you."
"W-what are you even saying…"
"If we take that as the premise, while I'm still alive—would you cherish my 'existence' the way you cherish your mother's?"
She gave a faint laugh. "What kind of joke is this? Why so philosophical all of a sudden?"
"Don't change the subject. Answer me—would you cherish it?" Ned pressed, almost stubbornly.
The smile faded from her face; she fell silent, at a loss for words.
"Right now I'm racing against myself. I care about my studies, my career, my own efforts—I won't allow failure." His voice was low and forceful.
She stayed silent, still silent, bewildered by his sudden confession.
Then Ned abruptly laughed. "Today, besides inviting you to 'see the sea,' I originally wanted more."
"What? What else do you want?" Sophie asked, curious.
"I want your promise." He lowered his gaze, his right hand pressing heavily on the cover of the analysis report on his desk.
"Promise? What promise?" Sophie started to play coy.
"Haha—" Ned laughed knowingly. "In two weeks it's my birthday banquet. I'm inviting you to come." He extended the invitation, his tone warm, but his eyes utterly calm.
Sophie, of course, couldn't see his expression.
The birthday invitation left her wavering.
"So? Will you come? Will you say yes?"
"I…" She swallowed hard, her throat impossibly dry.
"Promise me. Don't let me have regrets," he said in a low voice.
Sophie's breathing grew frantic. She understood—this was more than a birthday banquet invitation. If she accepted, her relationship with Ned would change forever.
"Your birthday party… there'll be a lot of elders and friends and family, right?" she asked, her face pale.
She knew in her heart that if she showed up, Ned's mother would be furious. Her mother's warning echoed in her mind.
"Scared?" His voice sounded perfectly calm.
"No, not really. It's just… if I go, a lot of people will be upset." She could hear the tremor she couldn't suppress.
A mocking smile tugged at Ned's lips. "It's my birthday party. Shouldn't it be enough that I'm happy?"
"If my being there makes everyone else unhappy, how could you be happy? You'd end up resenting me," Sophie reasoned.
He let out a low chuckle. "You still don't know me well enough." Ned toyed with the pen in his hand. "Whether other people are happy or not doesn't matter. I don't care. I won't get angry. As long as you're there, I'll be happy. That's all that matters, isn't it?"
She had no response.
"Promise me you'll be there on my birthday."
"I…"
"Say yes," he coaxed softly. "One word from you, and I'll be over the moon."
Sophie squeezed her eyes shut.
He waited. Silently waited for her answer.
"…Okay. I promise." She finally mustered the courage and nodded. In those brief ten seconds, her heart had waged a fierce battle.