Chapter 1
The year Noah Carter became the national SAT top scorer, Harvard and Stanford fought over him so fiercely that they each broke precedent to offer him a “companion spot.” Everyone assumed he would reserve that spot for me.
But in the end, the one who walked through Harvard’s gates with him was Elise Simmons–the girl who had just transferred in our senior year.
“Harvard is Elise’s dream. She needs this opportunity more than you do.” That was how Noah explained it.
He said my grades weren’t outstanding enough and that if I went, people would question my qualifications. I’d only become a burden to him. So he applied on my behalf to an art school in Boston instead, and solemnly promised, “When you graduate, we’ll get married.”
But later, I was accepted into a fine arts institute in Florence, Italy, and went to Europe to pursue further studies.
Years later, when we met again in a gallery in New York, Noah’s eyes reddened the moment he saw the wedding ring on my hand.
“Why?” he asked. “Didn’t you say you’d only marry me in this lifetime?”
Seven full years had passed since high school graduation when I heard Noah Carter’s name again–at Charles de Gaulle
Airport in Paris.
I was sitting at the boarding gate, waiting for my next flight to New York, when the girl in the seat next to me had already
snuck glances my way seven times.
Finally, she couldn’t hold back any longer. She hesitantly called out, “Mint?”
I instinctively looked up, staring at her unfamiliar face in confusion.
“It is you, right? Do you remember me? We went to the same high school–I was at Westfield High too!”
That name made me pause. Westfield High School–the public high school I had once attended in Connecticut.
She said we had once rehearsed together for a school anniversary performance.
I vaguely sensed that might be true, but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t recall who she was.
To her, it was a cherished memory from her youth; to me, high school felt like something from another lifetime–a time so
distant that most of the familiar faces and names had long faded from my memory.
I searched my mind, but still couldn’t place her.
She didn’t seem embarrassed. On the contrary, her eyes lit up
with excitement.
“It’s okay if you don’t remember me,” she said cheerfully.
“But you must remember Noah Carter, right?”
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-Noah Carter.
That name was like a needle, piercing the calm surface of my composure.
I didn’t speak, but the shift in my expression was enough for her to notice.
As if she had found common ground, she went on, her excitement growing.
“You two were the couple back then–beautiful and brilliant. A real legend.”
“Noah scored the highest in the entire country. Both Harvard and Stanford were fighting over him.”
“In the end, Harvard even broke the rules and offered him an extra spot so he could bring his girlfriend.”
“So what happened? Did you go to Harvard with him? Are you two married now?”
“Are you traveling for work, or are you heading back to the States? Have you two been together all this time?”
Her questions came one after another, warm and completely unguarded.
But I couldn’t take in a single word.
The moment she said his name, a flood of memories surged up all at once–his silhouette at the end of the hallway, the promises whispered in the school library, the letters of recommendation he had written for me, and that day–the day he gave the spot to Elise Simmons.
I stayed silent, unsure how to respond.
Thankfully, the boarding announcement came at that moment-
“Flight AF188 to New York is now boarding.”
With relief washing over me at finally escaping her interrogation, I quickly stood up. My voice was calm, yet deliberately distant. “Sorry, I have to board now.”
She looked puzzled, as if she didn’t understand, just silently watching me leave.
I didn’t look back. Dragging my carry–on behind me, I strode toward the gate.
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