Once the conversation was over, Averi didn't linger. She sat for a while, then drove home.
Milo wasn't home. The maid relayed the message, saying, "Milo said he has to work late tonight and won't be coming back."
Averi hummed in acknowledgment, then went to her study to handle some paperwork. At 1:30 AM, she shut down her laptop, washed up, and as usual, took three sleeping pills before getting into bed to sleep.
The next morning, the maid heard the alarm ringing non-stop. Wondering what was going on, she went upstairs and knocked on the door a few times. When there was no response, she entered the room and gently shook the woman awake.
Averi struggled to open her eyes, sitting up in bed and taking a few minutes to adjust. Her head felt heavy, and every time she closed her eyes, she felt like she might drift back to sleep. There was also a faint headache.
No wonder the doctor had advised her to take no more than one pill within 24 hours.
For the past few years, she'd been relying on sleeping pills to fall asleep. Over time, her body developed a tolerance, so what once worked with just one pill gradually became two, then three. Every time she got a new prescription, the doctor would warn her not to take more, mentioning potential side effects, dependency, and all those other tired old concerns. This time, when he said it again, she didn't really listen. She just stuck to her usual habit and took three pills.
Averi splashed her face with cold water and drank a triple shot of coffee, finally feeling a little more awake.
Her aunt asked if she wanted the driver to pick her up, but Averi glanced at the clock and said no. She was already over twenty minutes late compared to her usual time and didn't want to waste any more time waiting for the driver.
However, she had underestimated the effect of the sleeping pills. It felt like she had only blinked, but in reality, she had fallen asleep, her body going limp as the car slammed into the guardrail.
When she woke up again, she was in a hospital bed.
"Averi, you're awake?" Jordan leaned in close. "Does your head hurt? Is there anywhere else you're feeling off?"
Averi instinctively tried to sit up, but as soon as her body moved, pain shot through her, and she cried out.
"Be careful," Jordan quickly supported her, easing her back down onto the bed.
"I was in a car accident? What time is it now?" Averi asked, still coming to her senses.
"1 PM."
Is it already afternoon?
Averi furrowed her brows, her head throbbing with a dull ache.
"Did I hit anyone?"
Jordan replied, "No, you didn't hit anyone. The guardrail you crashed into hit two cars on the other side, but the people were fine. Compensation has already been sorted."
Averi relaxed her furrowed brows.
"Averi," Jordan hesitated, "How did you end up hitting the guardrail?"
Averi gave a bitter smile. "I took too many sleeping pills."
"...Averi, how about I make an appointment with a therapist for you? Just go talk to a stranger, get some things off your chest, and see how it goes. We can talk about treatment later."
"Jordan, what are you talking about?"
Jordan forced a cheerful tone, "Jordan, there's no obstacle we can't overcome. The company can't run without you, and I can't get my salary without you! My eldest just started elementary school this year, at an elite school—it's ridiculously expensive. Now we've got a second one on the way. My son and I are counting on you!"
After thinking for half a minute, Averi couldn't help but laugh and cry at the same time. "You think I was trying to kill myself? Jordan, I only took three sleeping pills. I just switched to a new prescription yesterday, and I took it the way I always do. I just took too many by accident."
Hearing this, Jordan finally relaxed, the tension leaving his body. "The police said the surveillance footage showed no abnormalities on the road, and when you hit the guardrail, you were still pressing the gas pedal. It might have looked like a suicide attempt, so I—"
"I was asleep at that time."
"Asleep while driving?"
"Let's not talk about this."
Jordan beamed, "I'm so glad! You scared the life out of me. Averi, you have no idea, I was sitting here earlier and—ugh, forget it, never mind."
Averi had a fractured right shoulder, five stitches on her forehead, multiple bruises across her body, and a mild concussion. It could have been worse, but it wasn't too bad either. Despite all that, she insisted on being discharged.
Jordan tried to persuade her, but when it didn't work, she reluctantly went to handle the discharge paperwork.
Bored, Averi turned on the TV in her hospital room. Channel 4's international broadcast was covering the evacuation efforts in Lyria.
Recently, there had been several clashes between the anti-government forces and the local government military in Lianya, and the fighting had spread into the commercial districts, injuring many civilians.
Averi had been to Lianya about ten years ago, purchasing a small oil field from the general Saluo. Just as they had driven away from the general's mansion, the rebels attacked. Luckily, they left early—if they'd stayed a few more minutes, who knew what might have happened.
On the TV, behind the host was a scene of crumbling walls: "The conflict has escalated further. Two days ago, the two sides clashed in the city center, trapping many civilians in the combat zone. Fortunately, the peacekeeping forces and local mercenaries arrived in time, helping civilians evacuate. Among the rescue team was a former soldier, Dallas, who managed to save 48 civilians, 16 of whom were his fellow countrymen..."
"...During the final evacuation mission, Dallas was shot in the head while protecting a local child from rebel gunfire..."
Averi was stunned.
Jordan entered, "Averi, the paperwork's all set."
Averi snapped out of her trance, turned off the TV, and said, "Alright, let's go."
Instead of going home to rest, she went straight to the office.
At 9 p.m., Milo called to check in.
Averi downplayed it, saying she was fine. Milo didn't think twice, laughing at how Jordan had overreacted, and casually mentioned that he was on a business trip in Y City, returning in three days. He said he'd discuss something with her when he got back.
"Discuss"—that wasn't a word Milo usually used. What could it be that he wanted to "discuss"? Averi immediately thought of the child.
She smiled and agreed, though her heart was unaffected.
After hanging up the phone, Averi stood up and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Below, the street was bustling with traffic, crimson taillights and neon signs blending together. The tall buildings reflected the glow, and the whole scene was one of vibrant prosperity.
The glass, tinted gray-blue, mirrored her face—delicate, beautiful, and cold.
Rather than saying she's thirty-eight and still hasn't aged, it's more accurate to say she looked just the same at eighteen as she does now.
She didn't know when it started, but fatigue had become something she felt easily now, a weariness that seemed to have seeped into her bones, an inseparable part of her being, lingering and relentless.
She had planned for so long, endured so much, and now that she had what she wanted, it only left her with an inexplicable emptiness, unsure of what to do next.
Averi shook her head, trying to shake off the ridiculous thoughts. It was nothing but self-pity.
The wound on her forehead throbbed, probably because the painkillers had worn off. She remembered Jordan's comment about her suicide and gave a quiet laugh. Looking at the blurred reflection of herself in the glass, she murmured, "How could that be?"
After a long silence, she repeated, "...Impossible."
……
Suddenly, Averi jolted awake.
The dream had felt so real that for a moment, when she opened her eyes, she didn't know whether she was truly awake or still caught in another dream—especially since Dallas wasn't beside her.
The night before the wedding, they "separated." Dallas stayed in his small apartment, while she returned to the family home to spend the night.
Averi took out her phone to check the time—4:38. Four and a half hours left.
Since there was no bridal procession, the makeup artist wouldn't arrive until 9 a.m. She thought she could finally get some good sleep.
After tossing and turning for a while, still unable to shake off the effect of that dream, she sent Dallas a message: "Are you there?"
She didn't really expect a reply, but he responded immediately: "Yes."
Averi smiled: "Are you awake?"
The chat box showed he was typing, and Averi waited quietly. Soon, a new message popped up: "Sleeping on this bed alone feels strange."
She laughed for a moment, then typed: "You should say I—"
Before she could finish, another message came through: "I miss you."
