Chapter 2A Message That Changed Everything

I gave a bitter smile. I had always thought the necklace was for me, but it was meant for Kate. The bracelet he promised me was now on her wrist.

I signed the statement about withdrawing from the art exhibition, took off the pendant Theo had given me, and placed it on top.

It was from our first year together. He sold his first painting and used the money to buy me the pendant.

Back then, we both had dreams of becoming artists. Life was tough, but we were hopeful.

I practiced drawing day and night to improve my skills. Theo would grind away at his work beside me, encouraging me.

He ran around submitting his work everywhere, facing rejection after rejection, but never giving up.

Finally, a small gallery selected one of his paintings for display. When it sold, he was so excited that he bought me the pendant.

Tired but thrilled, he placed it in my hand.

"Natasha," he said, "this pendant is like our love. It's warm and lasting. Things will get better and better."

I nodded, tears welling up.

He hugged me tightly, his voice firm. "Natasha, I'll love you forever. We'll achieve our dreams together."

"Password incorrect."

"Natasha, open the door," Theo called out, interrupting my thoughts.

I opened the door and he staggered in, reeking of alcohol.

He muttered, "Natasha, the art exhibition is going great. We're going to make it. I'm going to buy you a huge studio so you can create freely."

I helped him to the sofa, watching him mumble. "Natasha, are you happy?"

A bitter feeling rose in me. He already had resources and fame, but our relationship had long since changed.

Since he met Kate, he'd been attending higher-end events and meeting more influential people.

He'd go to art gatherings with her, creating special works just for her, while I was left alone in the studio.

I dealt with creative blocks alone, faced criticism from peers myself, and spent countless nights waiting for him to come home.

I was tired. No matter how much love I had, I couldn't handle this anymore.

"Natasha, I feel terrible," Theo mumbled, tugging at his collar.

I reached to undo the button for him.

Suddenly, I saw a tattoo on the inside of his wrist. My name was on it.

But Theo had never gotten a tattoo.

A strange memory rushed in.

Back in college, a classmate had whispered to me, "Theo went to a tattoo shop. Guess what he got? He tattooed your name on his wrist. He said he wanted everyone to know how much he loves you and that his love for you is unique."

The two memories tangled in my mind. I suddenly dropped his hand and rushed back to my computer.

I opened Messenger and saw a message: [Theo will never stop loving Natasha. I'll prove it to you.]

There was a picture of him getting a tattoo.

The timestamp was from last night.

The one typing on the other end seemed to be the 20-year-old Theo.

And he could change things in the present.

I slumped in the chair, my heart a mix of emotions.