The Secret Island
CHAPTER 47: Upper Eastside Boy

From the story Celine heard from Joe, she imagined Martin being confined in a rehab or a retreat somewhere, but the place he brought her was somewhere completely different. A residential neighborhood in the Upper Eastside?

"Let me talk to the security." Joe excused himself before taking her to the private elevator. A luxurious condo in a wealthy neighborhood was not the place she expected to be in. But that didn't stop her from worrying about Martin. Is he alright? How's his health?

Joe said he wasn't the same man, and Celine was worried something had happened to Martin. The criminal trial she had just heard about really alarmed her the most.

At this point, no matter how much she tried to understand the situation through Joe's story, it would be so much better if Martin could explain it to her himself. The questions that pained her heart still lingered-why hadn't he come back to see her? Why? Why? Why? There was the question of 'why' that kept repeating in her head.

Although Joe said he was safe, she couldn't help herself but worry. If Martin wasn't in a difficult situation, she believed he would do anything to return to her. She trusted that he wouldn't let her wait alone for that long without any reason. She believed that..

We got into an elevator. Celine nervously looked up at the digital number that increased every second. She was nervous about the uncertainty. Martin lived here. This was his condo. The lavish outlook of the place informed her that he must still have a good living. Very good, actually.

"I hope you guys can talk it out. You know, work things out. I hope everything can be sorted." Joe said softly. She could only smile. Celine believed she was not an unreasonable person. She wanted to hear what Martin had to say. What was his reason? If it was the same issue he had with his mental health, she wouldn't mind supporting him in any way possible to go through with his treatment.

What did Joe mean by 'he had changed? She could accept the change. No matter who he turned into. No matter what happened to him, she could take it all. She trusted Martin.

Her heart beat faster.

Celine lifted her hand to lay on her beating heart. It beat faster every second and faster still in step she took, walking closer to the door to his room. The door that Joe was standing in front of it knocked on.

She could hear nothing but the drumming sound of her heart.

And the door opened.

All her senses dissipated, leaving her with the vision before her eyes.

That large door opened, revealing a familiar tall figure. Her hands were sweaty. It was as if everything was a dream again when she saw the person she had been waiting for.

The man from her memories and dreams.

He looked different-his hair was cut short, his eyes weary, his handsome face lost the usual dignified determination she remembered, and he was so much thinner and pale. But he was Martin. She hoped he was still 'her' Martin. No matter how time had changed, he was still her Martin.

"Celine..." That was all he uttered when she walked closer. He didn't say anything else.

When she was standing before him, he kept his silence, and she did the same. She couldn't find anything appropriate to say at a time like this. It was Joe who invited her inside.

"Celine, let's go in." It was odd that the owner of the place didn't say a word. If Martin didn't say her name earlier, she would guess he had lost the ability to speak.

She felt like an invited guest and couldn't find any word to talk to him. The three of us just sat down and looked at each other. Martin avoided her gaze and looked at his hands.

Isn't he glad to see her? What was happening to him? What made him break our promise? Had he forgotten it all? Did he really forget it all?

"Well, actually, I have some business to deal with at a place nearby. I completely forgot about it. Please excuse me. I really need to go. See you guys soon." Joe quickly left the room, leaving her with Martin.

Joe probably couldn't breathe in this air. She was no different.

It was her who spoke first.

The first phrase in four years. The long, excruciating four years. The four days that every day was filled with the pain of uncertainty.

And now she was with the man she had been occupying her every thought, the man she missed above all else. The first phrase didn't come out easily. She was silent.

At first, she thought of asking him nicely like 'How have you been?'-the generic question that may help her escape this uncomfortable silence. But she was wrong.

The feelings from years of suffering dominated her reason and the words prepared in her head. She blurted out a question she had long been wondering.

"Why didn't you come back..." She asked. Her voice was low. She didn't even know if he had heard it. She wished she could get rid of this feeling she had. She wished she could trade this feeling with anything she had. Because the only answer she received was silence.