I told my father everything that was going to happen in a different way.
He had never supported my desire to marry Cedric. He always thought that while Cedric was clever, he was also impatient and extremely calculating.
But I hated my father. The more he opposed something, the more determined I was to do it.
My parents divorced when I was young, and I was assigned to my mother's care. She drank heavily and abused me, and I always blamed my father, thinking it was him who had abandoned me.
When I was eleven, my father forcibly brought me back home. There was no affection, only high standards and demanding expectations.
A lot of times, I don't know whether I'm his daughter or just a way to boost his image.
It wasn't until I saw him die of a heart attack from the pain of my loss in the previous life that I finally understood.
Some things, the deadlock, were meaningless.
This time, when I told him, my father immediately became cautious. He didn't doubt that I was just rambling, but instead said that he would handle everything and that I didn't need to worry.
He gently patted my head.
"Honey, I'm so happy you came to find me."
"Dad will always be your strong support." I forced a smile, convincing myself to accept this. After all, all these years, his investment in me—his financial support—had been real.
To gain something, you are destined to lose something else.
After leaving, I drove to Alistair's house. I hesitated for a moment before ringing the doorbell. Alistair was surprised when he saw me. Perhaps he hadn't expected me to show up.
"Kinley…"
He instinctively called my name.
I couldn't hold it back anymore—the image of him dying for me in my past life came rushing back. I stepped forward and hugged him tightly. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably.
If it weren't for this rebirth, how would I have known that someone loved me so deeply, loved me enough to destroy their own future, willing to die for me?
Alistair carefully returned my embrace.
"Did he hurt you?"
"I'll go…"
I stopped him.
"Alistair…"
"I heard you playing the piano when I came in. I haven't heard this one before—your new song?"
"I'd like to hear it. Can I be your first listener?"
Alistair nodded firmly.
In a soft voice, he said, "Originally, I wanted you to be the first to hear it." He then led me to his piano room.
Since I was eleven, I had grown up with Alistair. When I was younger, my teacher would force me to practice, and for nine out of ten classes, I would sneak away to hide at Alistair's house.
Later, Alistair started practicing too, and he could sit at the piano for an entire day.
I often said, "Alistair, you look so beautiful when you play the piano!"
Every time my teacher complained to my father about my laziness, I would run to Alistair's house to "recharge." His beautiful piano melodies accompanied me day after day.
He once told me, "Music is my faith."
Later, he continued practicing and became an outstanding pianist, composing his own music and winning countless awards.
He was loved by thousands, but his entire music career was destroyed because of me.
As he adjusted the piano, I asked him, "Alistair, is there anything more important in your life than the piano?"
Without hesitation, he answered, "Yes."
I pressed further, "Even if it means giving up music?"
"Yes," he said, still firm.
"I see."
Then I listened to the song I had heard in my past life.
This time, there was no phone screen between us, no death, but the song was truly coming from his lips.
The only difference was that this time, he didn't say those last words.
I just watched him.
Alistair looked a little uncomfortable, his face flushing red.
"Is it… is it not good?" he asked hurriedly, glancing at the sheet music.
"I'll see which parts need to be revised."
Even though Alistair had been on countless stages, he shouldn't have looked so nervous. But in front of me, he still blushed.
I stood up and moved closer to him.
"When I came in, I saw a line in a book that said, 'I will love you forever, from a distance of cool detachment.' I don't like that line. It's too pessimistic. When you love someone, it should be passionate, and you should tell her," I said.
"Alistair, do you have someone you like?"
He suddenly looked at me, silent, his eyes filled with emotions I couldn't understand.
