The next morning, Aubrey was waiting for me downstairs.

I silently got into the car, and we drove together to the cemetery.

Aubrey presented flowers for my father, speaking earnestly, “Prof. Jenner, I know I was wrong before. I will take good care of Bailee from now on. Please rest assured.”

“I can take care of myself,” I said, wiping my father’s headstone with a handkerchief, refusing Aubrey’s words.

“Bailee, don’t be so stubborn,” Aubrey said helplessly.

“I’ve thought it through. I have a job, savings, and can support myself. Why should we continue to torment each other?”

Aubrey was stunned. “You’re talking about Wynne, aren’t you? There’s nothing between...