Love, Lies, and Legacy

On a weekend night, Ryan Lancaster's company held its celebration banquet at the revolving restaurant on the top floor. I wore the off-white dress he gave me just last week, clutching a Champagne glass, trying hard to blend into the noisy crowd. Ryan Lancaster was surrounded by several colleagues toasting him; his profile gleamed under the crystal chandelier, as handsome as on our wedding day. He turned to me with a smile, reaching out to hold my hand, but accidentally stumbled. A black, worn wallet slipped out from his suit's inner pocket and fell onto the carpet. It was the wallet he had used for five years, its corners worn; I had mentioned wanting to replace it several times, but he always said he was used to it. Pete Zimmerman quickly stepped forward to pick up the wallet beside me; he's Ryan Lancaster's childhood friend and the company's vice president. Pete shook the wallet and grinned, teasing, "Ryan, you're still carrying this 'family heirloom'? I still remember that string of passwords from back then." Ryan's face instantly darkened as he reached for the wallet. "Don't speak nonsense." My heart skipped a beat. I had asked him before about the wallet's lock password, and he said it was just some random numbers he set. Pete didn't notice Ryan's expression and leaned closer to me, lowering his voice: "Stella, you don't know, do you? This password '4891' is about Ryan and Jessica." The name Jessica Stephenson felt like a sharp needle suddenly piercing my heart. She is Ryan Lancaster's ex; I had only heard that name in fragments from his friends, and he never brought her up himself. Pete Zimmerman, probably drunk, went on: "Back then, Jessica had an abortion on the 8th of April." "Ryan stayed outside the delivery room all night, smoked 89 cigarettes, and in the end, only said 'sorry' to her. That's where this number comes from." My fingers instantly turned ice-cold, the champagne glass trembling slightly in my hand. So the "random numbers" he mentioned were hiding such a deep past. At that moment, a gentle voice came from behind, "Pete Zimmerman, after all these years, why are you still bringing this up?" I turned around and saw Jessica Stephenson standing not far away. She wore a red dress, her curly hair cascading over her shoulders, her face showing just the right touch of grievance. Ryan Lancaster immediately stepped forward, standing between me and her. "Why are you here?" "I'm here to see an old friend. Isn't that allowed?" Jessica Stephenson walked past him, her eyes fixed straight on me. "Stella, I'm really sorry to have to tell you these unpleasant things." "Actually, Ryan and I have long been over; it's just that he's sentimental and keeps things from the past." Her words felt like hooks—seeming apologetic, but actually bragging. I clenched my fists tightly, forcing down the emotions inside. "Ms. Stephenson, the past should stay in the past. He is my husband now." "Is that so?" Jessica Stephenson gave a soft laugh and pulled an old photo from her bag. "Look, this is a photo Ryan Lancaster took outside the delivery room back then. He still has it saved on his phone." "And this wallet—I gave it to him years ago. He's never had the heart to replace it." In the photo, Ryan Lancaster sits on a chair in the corridor, his hair disheveled, a cigarette tucked between his fingers, his eyes vacant. It felt like my heart had been violently shattered, the pain so fierce I could barely breathe. Ryan snatched the photo and crumpled it into a ball. "Jessica Stephenson, don't push me too far!" "Me? Push too far?" Jessica's voice rose several tones. "Ryan Lancaster, do you really dare say you don't have any feelings for me anymore?" "Do you really dare to say this password is just a string of numbers to you?" Everyone around turned to look, their pointing and whispering swelling like a tide. I looked at Ryan Lancaster, waiting for him to explain. But he only frowned, not saying a single word. At that moment, all trust and sense of security shattered. I grabbed my bag and turned to walk away. "Stella, don't go!" Ryan caught up and tried to grab my hand. I shook him off. "Ryan, I need to calm down." The elevator doors slowly closed as I watched his anxious face disappear, tears finally spilling down my cheeks.