---- "Grace, how can you be so heartless?" I let out a short laugh and walked away without looking back. After that day, Kyle stopped showing up. Finally, I had peace again. I poured myself into the competition, working nonstop on my totem designs. After submitting my semifinal piece, I received news that I'd made it to the finals. To celebrate, I invited Linda and a few colleagues to my home for dinner. We were laughing over wine and food when the doorbell rang. It was Jones. He handed me a bento box. "I pre- ordered this from that high-end restaurant. All your favorites..." "How many times do I have to say it?" I cut him off. "I don't need anything from you. Let's stop torturing each other." ---- Jones gave a bitter smile. "Grace, no matter what I do, you're never going to forgive me, are you? It's all in the past. We should move forward, right?" I looked at him coldly. "Are you going to Mom's memorial next month?" he asked. I paused. That year, two years ago, I had gone. I'd called him, but he had chosen to stay with Rose and her mother to deliver her pet's kittens rather than see his mother's grave. Only I had knelt alone, holding her tombstone, mourning her. Even after leaving home, I made it a point to honor her. And this year, of course, Id go. I shook my head. "Don't say that to me. Say it to Mom." ---- Jones murmured another apology and left, shoulders slumped, still holding the food. "another admirer?" Linda asked, watching his back. "No. Just someone I used to know." She didn't press further, and we went back to discussing the final competition. The day of the finals, I wore a champagne gown and sat quietly in the audience. Dressed in a formal suit, Jones was also seated below. Kyle didn't show up. When they called my name, thunderous applause erupted. I stood up, calm and proud, and stepped onto the stage. This trophy should've been mine two years ago. I thanked my colleagues and Linda for believing in me, and my mother in heaven. I said nothing about Jones. ---- As I stepped off the stage, Jones rushed toward me. "Grace, Rose stabbed Kyle. He's badly hurt. Don't you want to go see him?" "Is he dead?" "No. But it's serious." "Pm not a doctor. I wouldn't be of any use." Jones tried to say more, but I turned and walked toward the friends cheering for me. He stood there frozen, watching me walk away. I was confident, composed, and radiant. In that moment, he finally understood that he had lost me for good.