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After he was done changing, John looked at his reflection for a while, then he nodded. He felt like he understood what was happening, and everything was clear now. A
moment later, he went downstairs.
John stood before the main residence, the night breeze caressing him. A while later, he went to the backyard. He did this out of reflex, for Sophia once told him she went to
the bamboo forest with Dylan in the mountains behind the backyard.
John knew that forest. He went there when he was a kid, though he thought there wasn’t anything special about it. Now that he thought about it, it had been years since he
went there. When he got to the backyard, he saw that the door was opened, much to his surprise. However, he didn’t think much and went toward the forest. With his cell
phone’s flashlight illuminating the path, he went inside. A short while later, he noticed a bright light before him. When he got closer, he saw someone standing there. “Dylan?”
John asked instinctively.
He was right; it was Dylan. Dylan greeted him back and asked, “What brings you here?”
John went up to him, not answering his question. There wasn’t anything here in the forest, not even a place to sit. And as for Dylan, he was standing in the clearing, looking at
the Constance Residence. It was higher ground here, so it lent them a good vista, enough to see the whole residence. Lights were on, for night had descended. From the looks
of it, the residence took up a big plot of land. At this, John went to stand beside Dylan. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”
Dylan gave it some thought before saying, “Just taking a stroll after dinner.”
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtJohn grunted. He turned his flashlight off, putting his hands in his pockets. A while later, he said, “Remember the thing you asked me in my office? I actually read your lips.”
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Dylan didn’t feel awkward. “Is that so? I was just curious.”
John smiled. “I’m not sure what you meant by the question. Were you asking if I regretted getting a divorce or hiding it?” After a pause, he said, “But no matter what the
question was, my answer remains the same: I don’t regret it. There’s nothing to regret.”
He wouldn’t think too much about the things he did, for there was no point mulling over or regretting the things that had happened. Instead, he’d be better off using that time
to handle the situation at hand. A smile flashed across Dylan’s lips, but the cloak of night concealed it from John. “Is that so? That’s good to hear,” Dylan remarked.
John looked at the residence, then he reiterated, “I don’t regret it. I never regretted it.” He was probably saying that to Dylan and himself. After that, silence descended,
lasting for nearly a minute.
Shifting the topic, Dylan then said, “I heard you went to welcome Mr. Wolfe this afternoon.”
John grunted. “I met him before, so we know each other. My dad had something to do, so I went there myself.”
Dylan sighed. “I heard that guy’s a scoundrel. All the people who talked to him disliked the guy.”
John scoffed dismissively. “I don’t talk to him much, so I can’t attest to that. Since we only talked about business, quality and efficiency were all that mattered. Other than that,
I don’t really care.”
Dylan nodded. “You have a point.” Then the conversation went dead.
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