A Forgotten Promise
I held her hand, standing at the center of the Banquet Hall, listening to the guests' blessings; through my fingertips, I felt the warmth of her palm, my heart full of hopeful anticipation for the future.
"Mr. Luke, Miss Scott, truly a match made in heaven." Mr. Clark approached, holding a wine glass, his smile sincere and full of admiration.
I smiled in response, my gaze drifting across the crowd, only to be arrested by an unexpected figure at the entrance.
It was Jim Gabriel, the childhood friend Sunny Scott had once mentionedthe 'first love' she called a 'regret of youth.'
He had not received an invitation, yet clad in a perfectly pressed suit, he strode directly toward us, his pace resolute to a glaring degree.
The guests' murmurs gradually quieted, all eyes fixed on this unexpected visitor.
I felt Sunny's hand tremble slightly, the warmth at her fingertips abruptly chilling.
Jim Gabriel stood before us, his gaze gliding past me to rest firmly on Sunny Scott's face, bearing a tenderness verging on obsession.
"Sunny, I have returned." His voice was low, yet it echoed clearly throughout the quiet banquet hall.
He took from his briefcase a glass jar filled with multicolored lucky stars; sunlight filtered through the glass, causing the stars inside to shine with a rare brilliance.
"Do you still remember? Ten years ago, I promised you that upon my return, I would give a thousand lucky stars for your answer."
His voice bore a hint of hoarseness, as if the emotions long repressed had finally burst forth.
I clasped Sunny Scott's hand more firmly, striving to remind her with my eyes of who we were in that moment, and of the three years of love we had shared.
Yet she seemed unaware of the strength of my grasp, her eyes fixed intently on the glass jar, gradually growing red.
"Jim..." she whispered softly, her voice trembling with emotion.
"I know it is selfish to say this now," Jim Gabriel stepped forward, ignoring my presence. "But I cannot bear to see you marry another, Sunny. I have never forgotten you, nor the promises we made."
The murmurs around us grew loudersome curious, some mournful, and others furtively scrutinizing my reaction.
I had believed that three years of constant companionship, the hardships we endured together in launching our venture, and the mutual support through countless late nights would suffice to make her resolutely choose me.
Yet Sunny Scott's next action utterly shattered all my illusions.
She abruptly withdrew the hand I was holding and threw herself into Jim Gabriel's arms, embracing him tightly.
"I have waited for you so long, Jim. I thought you would never return." Her sobs intertwined with her words, like knives piercing my heart.
Jim Gabriel returned her embrace, resting his chin atop her head, his gaze filled with the preciousness of something regained and a barely perceptible challenge directed squarely at me.
I stood frozen in place, as if the blood coursing through my veins had instantly congealed.
Three years of love, in this single moment, became a cruel jokea past she relinquished with such ease.
The guests' gazes pierced me like needlessome shaded with sympathy, others with derision, and yet others with cruel delight.
I drew a deep breath, stifling the sob lodged in my throat and the tumultuous pain swelling in my chest, then slowly raised my hand and began to applaud.
The applause in the silent banquet hall rang out with an unsettling sharpness.
"Good." I forced a smile, striving to keep my voice steady. "Congratulations, Miss Scott, your wish has been fulfilled."
Upon hearing my voice, Sunny lifted her head from Jim Gabriel's embrace; a flicker of panic and guilt crossed her eyes, yet she showed no intent to break free.
"Yale, I..." She parted her lips to speak, but Jim Gabriel interrupted her.
"Mr. Luke, thank you for taking care of Sunny all this time," Jim Gabriel said, his arm around Sunny Scott's waist, his posture a clear declaration of possession.
"From now on, I will be the one to protect her."
I did not look back at them again and turned toward the exit of the Banquet Hall.
Each step felt as though I were walking on the edge of a blade; the whispers behind me, Sunny Scott's sobs, and Jim Gabriel's comforting voice all faded into a blurred backdrop.
Only the dull pain in my heart remained vivid and impossible to ignore.
The engagement banquet ended in disarray, and early the next morning, Sunny Scott came to the apartment I rented.
Her eyes were rimmed with red, clearly sleepless, and she wore the same dress from the engagement banquet the day before, now crumpled and wrinkled.
"Yale, I want to explain to you." She stood at the doorway, her voice tinged with pleading.
I stepped aside to let her in, saying nothing, merely leaning against the sofa, waiting for her so-called explanation.
She sat opposite me, her hands tightly clenched together, "We promised each other when we were children that once he had completed his studies, we would be together."
"And what about me?" At last, I spoke, my voice hoarse and foreign to my own ears, "What have these past three years between us meant?"
"Yale, I am grateful for your care over these past three years, and I have depended on you," tears slipped down her cheeks, "But now that the company has grown and we have money, I have to keep that promise from long ago. Jim is an obsession I cannot relinquish from my heart."
"Obsession?" I laugheda bitter, desolate laugh. "So, all the hardships and joys we shared over three years mean less to you than a promise made ten years ago?"
She gave no reply, only wept incessantly, apologizing to me and confessing how torn she felt.
I gazed upon her tear-streaked face, and the last vestige of warmth within my heart faded away.
I remembered how, three years ago, I quarreled bitterly with my father, severing all contact, in order to start a business with her.
My father claimed she was too ambitious and unsuitable for me, yet I was resolute in proving to everyone that together we could forge a future.
In those days, we squeezed into a tiny rented room, writing proposals together, chasing clients together, and staying up all night revising plans.
Once, to secure an important project, we waited for the client in pouring rain for three hours; she shivered from the cold yet smiled and said to me, "Just hold on."
Those scenes were once my most treasured memories; now, in retrospect, they feel like a profound irony.
"There is no need to say more," I said, standing up. "Let this be the end."
Sunny Scott raised her head, eyes wide with shock. "Yale, are you breaking up with me?"
"It's not a breakup; it's an end." I corrected her, "From the moment you accepted Jim Gabriel yesterday, everything between us was over."
I picked up the car keys from the table, preparing to go to the Company to collect my belongings.
"Yale, don't do this," she gripped my arm. "The Company is half yours tooyou can't just walk away like this."
I shook off her hand and turned and left the apartment without looking back.
Standing below the Company building, the sunlight was blinding, yet I felt utterly cold all over.
When I swiped my card to enter, the access system emitted a sharp "beep beep" warning, indicating that my authorization had been revoked.
I paused for a moment, then quickly realized how swiftly they had acted.
The young receptionist spotted me and averted her gaze nervously. Hesitating, she said, "Mr. Luke... no, Mr. Luke, Ms. Scott said you have already resigned and are no longer permitted to enter the company."
"Resigned?" I raised an eyebrow. "When exactly did I resign?"
As I spoke, Jim Gabriel emerged from the elevator, clad in an expensive suit, a Vice President's badge affixed prominently to his chest.
"Mr. Luke," he said, looking down on me with a sardonic smile playing at his lips, "The company is now under the control of Jim and Sunny. You no longer have anything to do with it."
"So you have unilaterally revoked my access?" I restrained my anger.
"It is a necessary procedure," Jim Gabriel shrugged. "After all, we cannot allow an unrelated person to enter the company. What if sensitive business secrets were leaked?"
"An unrelated person?" I met his gaze. "This company was built step by step by me alongside Sunny Scott. I have invested more effort than any of you."
"So what of it?" Jim Gabriel stepped forward, lowering his voice, "Now that Sunny has chosen me, naturally this Company belongs to me. Mr. Luke, leave immediately."
I do not wish to entangle myself with him; I only want to retrieve my personal belongings.
"Where are my things? The computer, the documents in the office, and my personal effects."
"Your things?" Jim Gabriel sneered, "Follow me."
He led me to the deputy general manager's office that once belonged to me. The moment the door opened, I was stunned.
Inside was utter chaos: my desk piled with clutter, the computer smashed beyond repair, its screen slashed by a long crack, documents scattered across the floor, some torn to shreds.
The photo frame I left on the corner of the desk contained a picture taken during the early days of the startup with Sunny Scott. Now, the frame lies shattered, and the photograph has been torn beyond recognition.
"What do you mean by that?" I turned to look at Jim Gabriel, my gaze burning with cold fury.
"Nothing," Jim Gabriel replied, feigning innocence. "Perhaps the cleaning lady accidentally did it while tidying up."
"Accidentally?" I pointed at the smashed computer. "Is this accidentally thrown away as well?"
"Who knows," Jim Gabriel shrugged. "Perhaps your computer is of poor quality and broke on its own."
His provocation was blatant, and I suppressed the urge to strike.
"I'm telling you, Yale Luke," Jim Gabriel leaned in close, his voice tinged with menace, "don't think you can take anything from me. Sunny is mine, the company is mine, and you have nothing now."
"Furthermore," he seemed to remember something and added, "we discovered a core confidential company document missing. Sunny said only you have accessed it. You'd better hand it over now, or we'll report it to the police."
I looked at him, a coldness settling deep within, "Jim Gabriel, do you truly believe this will make me yield?"
"I'm merely reminding you," Jim Gabriel said with a triumphant smile, "know your place; otherwise, it would benefit you nothing."
I said no more and bent down to gather the documents on the floor that were still identifiable, along with some personal belongings.
I picked up those shattered photographs and carefully placed them into my bag.
Even if the love is gone, those past memories should still be buried by my own hands.
Having finished packing, I turned and walked out of the office, leaving behind the company to which I had devoted three years of my heart and soul.
The sunlight remained blinding, yet I felt as though my entire world had collapsed.
After leaving the Company, I went to the Human Resources Department to submit a formal resignation letter.
The HR looked at me with sympathy in her eyes, but she could only follow protocol.
"Mr. Luke, are you sure?" She asked softly, "Many employees joined because of you; if you leave, they might also..."
"I have made up my mind."
After submitting my resignation, I remembered that I still had a personal laptop at the Company, containing some important documents as well as photos and videos of Sunny Scott and me.
I returned to the Company once more. This time, I did not encounter Jim Gabriel and was able to retrieve the laptop without incident.
I turned on the computer, and the desktop displayed a photo of Sunny Scott and me by the sea, our faces radiant with smiles.
I opened the folder; inside were photographs from our travels, minutes from early startup meetings, secretly recorded videos of her working late on proposals, and notes she left for meone reading, "Mr. Luke, stay strong; we will surely succeed."
Looking at these things, a faint ache still stirred within me.
Yet I neither deleted them nor indulged in sorrow.
They are all part of my lifewhether joyous or painfuland all deserve to be remembered.
I closed the computer, placed it in my bag, and resolutely turned away from the company.
I knew that Jim Gabriel would not let me off so easily; he would undoubtedly find ways to suppress me, even go so far as to frame me.
But I do not fear him. I, Yale Luke, have never been a pushover to be manipulated.
A few days later, I received news from a former senior employee of the company, stating that Jim Gabriel was hosting an Appointment Banquet, inviting many clients and partners, intending to assert his dominance.
I paid no mind, simply living my life calmly and beginning to chart my future course.
But unexpectedly, on the day of the banquet, dramatic news broke.
An old employee told me that at the banquet, Jim Gabriel was proudly delivering a speech when suddenly more than a dozen core employees collectively handed in their resignations.
These employees were all personally recruited and cultivated by me; they have remained utterly loyal.
They said they joined the Company because of me, and now that I have left, they see no reason to stay.
Shortly thereafter, several major clients called one after another, expressing their intent to terminate their cooperation with the Company.
One of these clients was someone I had painstakingly negotiated with when we first began. On the phone, he told Sunny Scott, "Ms. Scott, we have cooperated for so long, and it was always because of Mr. Luke's character and ability. Now that Mr. Luke is gone, our cooperation must come to an end."
What was meant to be a proper Appointment Banquet ultimately descended into a farce.
Jim Gabriel's face turned ashen with anger, yet he felt utterly powerless.
When I heard the news, I was reading in a cafe, my lips unconsciously curling into a faint smile.
I did not instigate them to do this; it was their voluntary decision and an acknowledgment of my efforts over the past three years.
Before long, Sunny Scott's call came through.
"Yale, was it you who urged them to do this?" Her voice carried both anger and exhaustion.
"It was not me," I replied calmly, "They acted on their own accord, and I have no right to interfere."
"Isn't it you?" She raised her voice, "Apart from you, who else could make them do this? Yale Luke, why do you treat me this way?"
"What have I done to you?" I replied sharply, "You betrayed our relationship; it was Jim Gabriel who first drove me out of the Company. You deserve what happens now."
She sneered coldly, "Yale Luke, don't get cocky. The Company won't collapse so easily."
"Then I wish you good luck." Having said that, I ended the call.
I knew that without our core employees and major clients, the Company's prospects were grim.
Yet I never anticipated that matters would deteriorate so swiftly.
A few days later, I saw on the news that Sunny Scott's company was overwhelmed by numerous client complaints due to product quality issues, and had even been summoned by the relevant authorities.
It emerged that Jim Gabriel, in an effort to reduce costs, had unilaterally replaced the original material supplier, opting to produce products with inferior raw materials.
Those products were not only substandard in quality but also posed serious safety risks.
Once the news broke, the company's reputation plummeted sharply; the remaining clients hastened to terminate their contracts, plunging the company into an unprecedented crisis.
I can well imagine the utter turmoil enveloping Sunny Scott at this moment; she likely never imagined that the very "promise" she so ardently sought to protect would cast her into such a dire plight.
Yet all of this is the consequence of her own choices.
I do not gloat over her misfortune; rather, I feel a profound sense of regret.
That Company was once the fruit of my labor, like my own child.
But now, it has been ravaged beyond recognition by Jim Gabriel.
Yet I shall not return; some roads, once taken wrongly, offer no return.
Some affections, once shattered, can never be mended.
The crisis within the Company had grown increasingly severe, and Sunny Scott at last sought me out once more.
This time, she bore no accusations or anger as before, but rather a profound exhaustion and despair.
She arrived directly at the new residence I had found, her hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot, her entire appearance haggard and broken.
"Yale, I beg you, please help me." She clasped my hand, her voice choked with tears, "The Company can barely hold on; if this continues, it will collapse."
I withdrew my hand, gazing upon her ruined state, feeling not the slightest stir within my heart.
"Why should I help you?" I asked her.
"Because the company also bears your efforts," she said urgently, "Yale, we built this company together; you cannot just stand by and watch it collapse."
"The company belongs to you now, and to Jim Gabriel, but it no longer concerns me." I said calmly.
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