Chapter 7 On the way to the hospital, I drifted in and out of a jumble of dreams. This time, the dreams were of our younger days. Julian had climbed a tall tangerine tree to pick the biggest, sweetest fruit for me, not even caring when he cut his hand, He scratched his head and laughed. "It's okay, Eleanor. As long as you're happy." The scene shifted to the day he was promoted. A private room at The State Diner, filled with countless guests celebrating his advancement. Family members in tow. And Julian had brought me along. Behind their polite smiles, many people whispered about him. The most promising young officer in Oakridge Estates, and yet his fiancée... was a fool. I trembled. It was my first time in such a confined space with so many strangers. Their expressions varied. Cross always made me panic. My lower abdomen ached. Before long... my pants were wet. Everyone stared, shocked and disgusted. There, in front of everyone from Oakridge Estates, I had shamed myself -I had wet my pants. Later, the doctor told me it was called stress urinary incontinence. Even with an eight-year-old's mind, I understood how shameful it was to wet oneself in public. I clutched my skirt, wishing I could disappear on the spot. I had embarrassed Julian... humiliated him greatly. I didn't know how to apologize. Someone like Julian-a proud son of heaven, a man among men, the kind who was always looked up to -should have been above such mockery. But because he always brought me along, he was mocked and whispered about. That was also why Margaret disliked me. My whole body shook, tears threatening to fall. But that day, Julian did not blame me. In front of everyone, he took off his jacket and draped it around my waist. His voice soft. "My apologies. My fiancée is unwell. I ask for your understanding." While everyone else's family members were made up perfectly, elegant and poised, Julian did not see me as a disgrace. Chapter 7 50.00% He did not resent my lack of composure. On the way home, he even bought me a new pair of tiny floral underwear. Carrying me, he whispered, "Don't be afraid, Eleanor. I am not angry at you." I remember that day I cried. But not out of shame or anger-out of the sheer warmth of Julian's understanding and patience. From that moment on, I swore-unless Julian abandoned me, I would follow him every step of my life. But I forgot-was my pursuit what he truly wanted? Or had my devotion become a form of obligation, a chain binding him? I finally believed the dream where Julian asked for a divorce. Over the years, he had grown weary. He could no longer carry me, this "dead weight." He resented me for saving him and even resented being saddle with his enormous debt of gratitude he could never repay. I sighed. If I could still wake up, I would tell him, [Julian, there's no need for guilt.] I did it willingly. I have never regretted it. After all, a long, long time ago, he really was so good to me. Chapter 7 50.00%