Delayed Passion: Miss Lynch's Unrequited Love-Chapter 44: Am I Just the Dog You Keep?

Thea Lynch lied.

In the past few years abroad, she could hardly recall anything truly joyful.

Even when obtaining the direct admittance to a doctoral program, or receiving job offers and winning competitions, she didn’t feel as happy as she had imagined.

If she had to mention one thing, it’d be her hearing recovery.

But the happiness from that was fleeting.

She got better, yet somehow not completely. Her soul was trapped in the year before she went abroad, leaving only a numb shell when she finally did overseas, living a routine life.

The only piece of happiness that she repeatedly reminisced in recent years was New Year’s Eve the year she finished her follow-up assessments, when Ian Preston got two tickets for the inner circle of a concert by her favorite singer, taking her to listen to a concert—

Yes, listen.

She remembered very clearly, when the doctor spoke with Ian Preston, her hearing was constantly declining; initially, she could still hear faint sounds, but the situation was unexpectedly getting worse.

That meant she, a person who was half-deaf and half-mute, wouldn’t take long before she could hear absolutely nothing at all.

Before this, everyone comforted her by saying her hearing loss was only temporary, and it wouldn’t take long before she would recover. Therefore, overhearing their conversation was undoubtedly a bolt from the blue to her.

On that day, she was supposed to be happy, thinking of seeing the fireworks with Ian in the evening.

It was the first New Year’s Eve they spent alone.

But after leaving the hospital, she didn’t want to do anything, returning to square one.

Ian fathomed her somber mood, patting her head, "Why are you unhappy again?"

She raised her eyes and then withdrew them, giving him no response.

But then, he somehow produced two tickets and handed them to her, "Want to go to a concert?"

They were VIP seats.

It was her favorite band.

She immediately got teary-eyed; she didn’t like crying or sobbing, and she clearly didn’t want to cry, yet the tears wouldn’t stop flowing.

He knew why she was crying and, usually taciturn, he spoke numerous words of comfort.

"I promise, Thea will get better."

That day, despite refusing him many times, he finally took her, flying to another part of the country just to listen to the concert.

However, upon entry, she stubbornly removed her hearing aids, trying to prove to him that without them, she really couldn’t hear anything.

Buzzing sounds throbbed around her ears, and she could roughly hear the distant commotion like drums, continuously pounding her eardrums, making her anxious.

Yet when she saw his easy eyes that led one to deep submersion, her heart gradually settled, a small boat navigating through surging waves finally docked at her belonging harbor.

After a while, a new song filled the venue, also her favorite.

She gazed at the lyrics on the screen: "Can’t hear, can’t hear my persistence, thumping and jumping..."

In reflex, she gripped his sleeve tightly, her palms soaked in sweat wrinkling his suit.

It was at this moment that he clasped her hand, slender fingers forcibly sliding into her fingers. As she stared in astonishment, he slightly exerted force, pulling her into his embrace.

She pressed against his chest, snugly against his coat.

A rhythmic pounding sounded, dull yet compelling, momentarily eclipsing all the music inside the venue, resonating clearly in her ears.

Clueless, she raised her head, stage lights flickering across his face, making it hard for her to see his expression clearly.

Until he bent down, his dark hair brushed against her cheek, warm breaths falling upon her ear, intermittent sounds rang, "Thea Lynch, did you hear it?"

She didn’t understand.

After the concert ended, on the way back, she finally realized what she earlier heard wasn’t the drumming.

It was the only sound she could discern that night, besides his words; his heart, crashing out of control like hers.

——

"As long as you’re happy."

The near male voice abruptly pulled her thoughts back, Thea blinked, with emotions in her eyes on the verge of collapsing.

Ian seemed very satisfied with the answer he heard, repeating murmurs, "As long as Thea is happy."

Thea suddenly felt a sourness in her eyes, her lips twitching, producing sound only after several attempts, "What if not happy?"

"What if these years abroad, Thea isn’t happy?"

She wasn’t happy.

No one knew how she survived these years.

No, Ian Preston did.

"You know, right? You know she wasn’t happy at all during that time, right?"

After asking, she kindly answered on his behalf, "Ian, you always knew."

The man hung his head, his profile appearing very desolate, and upon hearing her words, he lightly shook his head.

"I’m sorry."

"..."

Time slowly passed; suddenly, Thea stood up, crouching before him.

She propped her hands on his legs, slightly tilting her head to meet his gaze.

"Ian," her voice sounded gentle and soft, calling him quietly.

He hesitated, instinctively lifting his numb hand resting on his knee, like returning to numerous intimate moments from the past, tenderly caressing her face, gradually sinking into her seemingly submissive pretense.

"Third Brother."

The soft affection before him resembled a nostalgic dream, shattered utterly by her sudden utterance of "Third Brother."

He had a premonition that with this term spoken, the words that would follow certainly wouldn’t be anything good. Maddeningly he lowered his head toward her, attempting to stop...

Yet it was too late, "Third Brother, am I just your pet?"

Ian’s pupils shook, abruptly halting in motion.

He watched her smile, and the smile was excessively glaring, making his heart ache.

Thea leaned on his knees, resembling a docile pet, "You beckon if you like and let me go if you don’t. Third Brother, am I your dog?"

Through all these years, she smiled still the same as in those days, innocently and purely, truly having a skill to drive people mad. Well, if only she didn’t speak—

In just an instance, Ian’s eyes reddened from the provocation, "Thea, who taught you to say such things?"

His voice trembled, nearly teeth-gritting as he asked.

"My parents left early, and my brother isn’t around. Everything I learned these days was taught by you back then, wasn’t it?"

"How about it? Third Brother, are you satisfied?"

Thea’s every word seemed like a double-edged sword, piercing not only him but also leaving herself covered in wounds.

Ian suffered; she didn’t fare much better.

Yet for some reason, she felt a sense of gratification inside now.

She craved to see him lose control, to witness him go mad.

Why should she be the only one who loses composure?

Why him?

"Say it again." Ian self-harmedly forced her to repeat the words just now.

Thea wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear, so she picked the harshest sentence, "Ian, I am your..."

Before the words could fall, shadows spilled down, obscuring the only light overhead. Ian lowered his head, fiercely biting her lips.