After confessing my love to Henry when I was eighteen, I'd done it again and again, despite his rejections.

"It's okay," I'd tell myself. "I have time. I'll succeed eventually."

But then everything changed.

Half a year ago, I got a call from across the ocean.

"It's Mom," I said, barely able to believe it.

She explained, "After the accident, someone rescued me. I was in ICU for a month. I lost my memory, married that person, and had a child."

"Mom, I-"

"Recently, I got my memory back and I found you."

She wanted me to move abroad with her, but I refused. Henry was too important to me. I hoped he'd accept my feelings one day-until three months ago.

That day, I waited for Henry to come home for dinner, but he walked in with a girl.

"Henry, who is she?" I managed to ask.

He looked at me calmly. "This is my girlfriend. You should call her aunt, based on seniority."

The girl hit him playfully. "Aunt? That makes me sound old!"

She turned to me, smiling. "You must be Lola! Henry talks about you. Don't call me aunt; just call me Mary. I'm the same age as you."

My heart dropped.

"Same age?" I whispered, my heart sinking. Was I just too young?

While Mary changed, I couldn't hold back. "Henry, did you get a girlfriend to make me give up? To provoke me?"

He looked at me coldly. "Lola, why are you being so sentimental? I made it clear before: I'm your uncle. We can't be together."

That night, Mary stayed over at the house.

I sat in the garden for half the night, staring at Henry's room. Behind the curtains, I saw two figures entwined, kissing. When the light finally turned off, tears streamed down my face.

In that moment, I decided to give up on Henry.

The next morning, I packed my things and waited until he usually got up. I walked to his door and knocked.

After a moment, he opened the door, frowning. "What are you doing?"

I felt a bitter sting in my eyes. Ever since I confessed my love at eighteen, Henry had grown distant. He spoke coldly, stopped trying to make me happy, and no longer brought me my favorite cake. He even used work as an excuse to stay out late.

I knew he was avoiding me, hoping I'd back down. But how could I give up? I clung to him, acted sweetly, tried to show kindness, even as he became more indifferent.

"It's time," I told myself. "I need to let go."

But even with that decision, my heart ached. "Why does this hurt so much?"

"Uncle." My voice was dry and hoarse from the sleepless night.

Henry frowned at me. I hadn't called him "uncle" since I confessed my love, thinking it would close the gap between us. But now, ready to give up, I returned to the beginning.

"What do you want?" he snapped. "Didn't I tell you not to bother me?"

"I want to change rooms," I replied.

Henry chose my room himself. It had great lighting, beautiful decor, and was right next to his. Too close for comfort.

When Henry was fourteen, he said, "Lola lives closest to me, so it's convenient for me to take care of her."

Now, he had someone else to care for, and I had to step back. It was better to give up my position than be kicked out later. I knew the future mistress of the Jones family was more important than the adopted daughter.

"If you want to change, just change," he said impatiently, slamming the door in my face.

I moved to a corner room downstairs, next to an abandoned study filled with junk. During the move, Henry didn't show up; he was likely too busy with his girlfriend.

After settling in, I called my mom. "Mom, I've thought about it. I'm going abroad with you."

Now that I decided to go abroad, I had to complete the necessary paperwork. After submitting the application, I waited for the certificate.

During that time, Henry and I hardly spoke, only sharing awkward silence at the dinner table.

"It's like we're strangers," I finally said one evening.

"Worse than strangers," he replied, not looking up. "At least strangers acknowledge each other."

I nodded, feeling the distance between us grow. We couldn't even manage a simple conversation anymore.

Mary Angel moved into my old room, and I watched her come and go, a bitter smile on my face.

Why bother with separate rooms when they could just live together?

It was rare to see Mary Angel in the mornings, but today, there she was at the dinner table. I finished my meal quickly and stood up.

"I'm done," I said, nodding to both of them.

As I walked out, I could feel Henry's gaze on me, his discomfort palpable.

"Lola, what's with the coldness?" he asked.

I didn't turn back. "Just being sensible."

"Where are you going? Let me take you. It's raining outside," Henry Jones said, surprising me after three years of avoidance since my confession.

I felt a flutter in my chest but quickly masked it. "No need. It's Valentine's Day. You two should enjoy your date. I'm just going to school to fill out some forms and will be back soon."

Henry looked taken aback. "Valentine's Day?"

I forced a smile. "Didn't you get a big gift for Mary? Have a great holiday."

"What are you talking about?" He frowned.

I shrugged, keeping my tone light. "I saw the news. The next head of the Jones won a jade bracelet worth millions at auction."

God knows how heartbroken I felt seeing that news.

I recalled when I was seventeen. Henry asked, "Lola, you'll be eighteen next year. What birthday gift do you want?"

I joked, "A bracelet, the kind in novels. A glass one will do." I smiled, knowing no gift could compare to him.

Henry laughed and scratched my nose. "A glass bracelet? You're quite greedy, little girl."

...

He remembered. But it wasn't for me.

"That's a gift from me." he started.

"Henry!" Mary interrupted, cutting him off.

"Henry Jones, you prepared a gift for me! What is it?" Mary asked, rising from the table and wrapping her arms around his.

Henry didn't respond to my earlier question. "Then be careful," he said, pulling Mary close before heading upstairs.

I felt the sting of reality: I was now an outsider.

Once my visa is approved, I'll leave quickly and stop being a nuisance.

"Okay, uncle," I replied quietly.

After filling out my forms at school, I stopped for coffee and unexpectedly ran into my elementary school teacher, Mr. Alex.

"Lola! Going abroad?" he exclaimed, surprised.

"Yeah, I guess I won't be coming back," I replied.

"Will your uncle agree?" he asked, his brow furrowed with concern.

I sighed. "You know how it is. He's been. distant."

Mr. Alex nodded sympathetically. "I've seen how much he cares for you. I hope everything works out."

"He agreed. We're not related by blood, and I don't want to trouble him anymore. Mom's recovered her memory and wants me with her," I explained to Mr. Alex.

He nodded. "That makes sense. You should spend time with your mother after all these years."

"But your uncle has been so good to you," Mr. Alex continued. "I remember when you were harassed by those gangsters. Your uncle had just had surgery, yet he still confronted them and ended up in the police station."

I sighed, recalling the memory.

"Lola, don't forget how much he's done for you, even when you go abroad," Mr. Alex advised. "He was just a kid handling your transfer procedures. It wasn't easy for him."

"I won't forget," I promised solemnly. "I wish I could give him everything I have."

Mr. Alex was right. My uncle had been so good to me over the years-providing food, clothing, and the best of everything. I needed to settle this before I left.

Once home, I changed clothes and began counting my expenses. "Let's see. how much have I spent over the years?" I murmured.

But how could I account for everything? The big expenses were easy, but the small, hidden costs? Impossible to calculate.

Frustrated, I threw down my pen and sighed, "Forget it. I can't figure this out."

Then I glanced around the room, seeing reminders of Henry Jones everywhere. "I'll just give him everything."

I stared at the bag, the clothes, the shoes-all gifts from Henry Jones. "Everywhere I look, it's him," I thought, feeling a mix of nostalgia and determination.

I contacted the agent. "Please help me sell the Miran family house," I said.

Next, I started packing up the things he had given me. "This one first," I murmured, snapping a photo before uploading it to a second-hand website. "He wouldn't want my second-hand stuff anyway."

After a few items, I sighed. "He's raised me for so long. It's only right I pay him back."

Henry Jones walked in with Mary Angel, and I spotted the bracelet on her wrist. "So it was for her," I thought bitterly.

Mary Angel approached me, beaming. "Lola! I've got a gift for you! Come see!"