Petunia thought it over carefully — and it was true, every man Ruth had ever pursued was unattached.
But still!
Petunia picked up her glass and drained it in one go.
Some people’s logic just couldn’t be understood.
But Petunia’s friend Yvonne patted Ruth on the shoulder in agreement: “I can understand where you’re coming from.” Yes, this was a gathering of three women.
On the way to the Bar, Petunia and Ruth had run into Yvonne, and Ruth, with that easy familiarity of hers, had pulled Yvonne along, saying she knew a great place to drink.
The moment Yvonne heard the word “drinking,” a spark lit up in those eyes.
Yvonne trotted right along after Petunia and Ruth, like a little dog that had caught the scent of a bone.
“Aren’t you the one who doesn’t date, doesn’t marry, doesn’t have children?” Petunia’s eyes went wide as saucers, as if they were about to leap clean out of their sockets.
“How could you possibly understand what she’s thinking?!” “Ruth and I — our choices are different, but deep down we both hold to the same thing.
We’re both unconventional.
We don’t care what other people think.
We only care about whether we’re living honestly and freely.” Yvonne took another sip of red wine, looking thoroughly satisfied, and said: “As long as you can bear those strange looks, and as long as you have no regrets yourself — that’s enough.” Petunia didn’t entirely agree with either of them.
Easy enough to say in a single sentence, but putting it into practice was a different matter entirely.
Human beings are social creatures, and from the moment of birth, every person is wrapped in a tangled web of relationships.
Every person’s actions, thoughts, and emotions are shaped by the eyes of others, bound by the rules of society.
Life, that seemingly ordinary yet endlessly challenging stage, how could anyone simply shrug off what other people think?
There was no escaping other people’s eyes, no breaking free from society’s constraints.
That was what Petunia thought.
————————————- Although Petunia couldn’t fully accept Ruth’s behavior or beliefs, something about her stubborn persistence had gradually drawn the two of them closer.
Ruth was the kind of person who, once decided on something, would pursue it with everything she had, and that tenacity had left a real impression on Petunia.
By now, the two of them were friends.
On lazy days off, Ruth would always cheerfully invite Petunia and Yvonne out for a stroll through the shops.
Ruth loved weaving through the bustling streets and alleyways, loved hunting down eye-catching fashion pieces, putting together one stunning outfit after another for both friends and self.
Ruth always had an unerring feel for what was trending, always managed to pick out pieces that were both stylish and practical, and never failed to leave Petunia and Yvonne impressed.
As long as the subject of men didn’t come up, Petunia found spending time with Ruth to be genuinely pleasant.
Ruth wasn’t the type to push personal beliefs onto friends or make demands of them.
It seemed as though Ruth was simply born with a natural love of human connection, enjoying idle conversation and sharing small moments from daily life.
Ruth loved a lively atmosphere, yet always managed to keep the energy at just the right level, never letting it tip into something overwhelming.
On this particular day, Ruth carefully picked out a well-fitted outfit for Petunia, paying close attention to every last detail.
Ruth gently combed through Petunia’s long hair and applied a light touch of makeup.
Mrs.
Evans was thoroughly delighted with this new friend her daughter had made.
In the days before, she had worried endlessly about whether Petunia would ever recover from that deep heartbreak, whether Petunia would ever open up again and find the courage to love.
Especially after learning that Petunia’s close friend Yvonne was a committed anti-marriage person, that had made Mrs.
Evans’ heart clench with worry.
She feared Petunia would be influenced by Yvonne and end up on that same lonely road.
Under Mrs.
Evans’ hopeful gaze, Petunia set off on a date.
The other party was the son of a friend of Mrs.
Evans, someone Petunia had met a handful of times before.
In the soft light of a café, Petunia studied the man sitting across from her.
The man’s good looks made Petunia’s heart beat a little faster without meaning to, and the polite smile worn as a formality became something more genuine in that moment.
While the man stepped away to the restroom, Petunia rested a chin lightly in one hand and let a gaze drift through the glass window to the street outside.
Petunia’s thoughts began to wander, imagining what spending time with this man might look like: sweet little moments, romantic dates, the small experiences they might share together.
Then suddenly, a figure flashed into view, dressed head to toe in deep black, like a ghost drifting through the dark.
Petunia startled slightly, a thought flickering through that mind that it was Snape appearing out of nowhere.
But when looking closely, it was only an illusion, the figure outside was not the man Petunia knew.
Petunia frowned, a vague irritation rising in the chest.
A full month had passed since Lily’s wedding, yet it seemed Petunia still could not free herself entirely from Snape’s shadow.
Occasionally other faces would appear in dreams, but Snape’s brooding features always refused to leave.
Petunia gave a small shake of the head, trying to push the image of Snape away.
[Maybe starting a new romance would be a good solution.] Unfortunately, today’s meeting hadn’t gotten off to a good start.
The man seemed to have had some kind of falling-out at home and had left to study abroad without a word.
Petunia, feeling glum, went back to the Bar with Ruth once more.
The Bar had no unsavory characters, and Ruth could hold a drink without limit and would keep an eye on things.
Petunia let her guard down and allowed a few extra glasses.
The liquor flowed across the tongue, bringing with it a warm, hazy pleasure, as if every last worry had been washed clean away by the mellow wine.
➤ Next: The Trouble Brought by a Dream