Chapter 65

Sophia Sullivan's eyes curved into crescents as she shook the small sculpture in her hand. "It looks just like you, honestly."

Alexander Laurent took the little figurine, a faint smile touching his eyes.

"Not anymore."

He accepted it anyway, thanking her softly.

Sophia waved a hand. "The light's green. You should go."

…

It was late at night by the time she got home.

Before her trip abroad, she had specifically hired a cleaner. The apartment was spotless, as if she'd never left.

Hot water washed away her weariness. She sank into the soft bedding, breathing in the familiar scent of her body wash.

Home really was the most comfortable place.

Alexander, however, had no time to rest.

His experiment had reached a critical phase. Even his trip to the airport had been squeezed into his schedule.

After a quick shower and change of clothes, he was ready to head back to the lab.

As he bent to tie his shoes, he glanced up and saw the small sculpture on the shoe cabinet.

The doll Sophia had given him occupied the most prominent spot on his bookshelf, surrounded by stacks of professional texts.

The corner of his mouth lifted.

It did bear a slight resemblance.

…

Mid-January brought a heavy snow to the city.

Sophia pushed open her window to a world blanketed in white.

It was just past eight, but the joyful shouts of children already floated up from downstairs.

A row of lopsided snowmen stood in the snow.

The largest one sported a pink pinwheel for a hat and fruit pits for eyes.

Returning from the market, Sophia paused. She took a small tomato from her basket and gave the snowman a red nose.

She studied her handiwork for a moment before nodding in satisfaction.

The beef at the market had been very fresh.

She selected some ribs, planning to make spicy beef strips. The rest would be perfect for a stew with sweet, fresh turnips.

"Knock, knock—"

The sound of rapping at her door.

Sophia wiped her hands and went to answer it.

Her neighbor from the third floor smiled and held out a basket of red eggs. "We've been blessed with a granddaughter. Wanted to share the joy."

The older woman had always been kind to her. Sophia was genuinely happy for her.

She offered some homemade mung bean cakes and salsa in return.

The neighbor tried to refuse, but eventually accepted.

"Oh, Professor Laurent is never home. Could you pass his share along to him?"

The auntie, in a hurry to deliver soup to the hospital, rushed off.

Sophia stared at the basket of eggs, feeling troubled.

Didn't Alexander dislike hard-boiled eggs?

…

By ten that night, it was snowing again.

Alexander shook the snow from his umbrella as he entered, weariness etched on his features.

The experimental data was finally corrected. With the minor holiday approaching, he had given the team two days off.

His key was just in the lock when he heard a door open behind him.

Warm, yellow light spilled out, illuminating the dim hallway.

Sophia's voice, warm and friendly, reached him. "You're home early today, Professor Laurent. The neighbor brought red eggs. Your portion is here with me…"

She handed him a small bamboo basket containing warm eggs and a thermos.

"The soup and eggs are warmed up. Have them while they're hot."

A cold draft swept in. She shivered slightly. "I'm going to close my door now."

Alexander murmured an acknowledgment.

The light vanished, and the hallway returned to silence.

His apartment felt emptier than usual.

He opened the thermos. The turnips were soft and tender, the broth rich and flavorful.

After a moment's hesitation, he peeled an egg.

Washed down with the hot soup, it wasn't so hard to eat.

Warmth spread from his stomach.

He leaned back on the sofa, enjoying a rare moment of relaxation.

His phone vibrated repeatedly.

He didn't need to look to know it was the family group chat.

In previous years, being abroad had allowed him to avoid family gatherings.

Now that he was back, there was no escaping them.

His mother sent her concern. His siblings offered their greetings in turn.

His father was brief and to the point, urging him to come home.

He replied to each one, promising to return as soon as possible.

The thermos was empty, save for two pieces of turnip.

It occurred to him that their next meeting would likely be after the New Year.

He wondered if she would be staying in the city for the holidays.

…

Alexander tried to return the thermos several times, but Sophia was never home.

She had already packed her bags and begun her journey home.

For the first time in six years.

Her finger hovered over the purchase button on the ticket page, opening and closing it repeatedly before finally confirming.

Some knots in the heart can only be untangled by facing them directly.