Chapter 22
Pamela’s face flushed several shades deeper at his words, and she shot him an embarrassed glare.
Scott knew he’d made her self-conscious and chuckled, “Alright, I’ll stop teasing. Go ahead with your work.”
They then immersed themselves in kneading, shaping, and sculpting the clay…
When their pieces were nearly complete, Scott looked up.
His own creation was a lumpish mess, while Pamela’s stood refined and flawless.
But then again, she truly had a gift for this.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, a cool sensation touched his nose-a dun-colored clay blob now dotted his vi- sion.
The culprit stood nearby, stifling giggles.
A distinct smile played on Scott’s lips as he murmured, “Aren’t we a bit old for this?”
Unfazed by his gentle reproach and emboldened by his indulgence, Pamela smeared more clay across his cheek.
The summer wind carried stifling humidity, leaving the streets sparsely populated.
Walking under the scorching sun, Scott heard Pamela sigh, “Our timing for this trip… isn’t ideal.”
Guilt washed over him-he’d remembered wanting to cheer her up but forgotten her aversion to heat.
“My bad. I chose the wrong season.”
She didn’t blame him, her gaze instead snagged by an unusual storefront.
Time Capsule Service.
Pamela tugged him inside. “Let’s write letters!”
Dazed, Scott followed. But seeing the promise of letters delivered after a year, his heart constricted with needle-sharp pain.
His grip on Pamela’s hand tightened anxiously, Adam’s apple bobbing as he rasped, “I’m sorry, Pamela.”
“Your diary… I actually received it ten years ago. But back then… I ignored it coldly.”
“Even your pain… I only felt it a decade later. Not even one ten-thousandth of what you endured…”
His eyes dimmed, sorrow crashing over him anew.
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Strangely, even with Pamela right beside him, panic and unease still haunted him.
Pamela cupped his face in warm palms, her expression solemn.
“If you’d seen it back then, maybe our story would’ve changed. Maybe you’d still despise me. Maybe we’d have truly
lost each other.”
“Don’t dwell on it. Having you here now makes me happy.”
Scott held her glistening gaze and nodded slowly.
Pamela pulled him toward stationery, selecting two sheets and envelopes. Pen in hand, she mused aloud while writ- ing,
“One year from now…”
Her pen hovered. She looked at Scott.
“Will we… still be together then?”
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