13 Life as a Story

Dabria looked at him in the eye for the first time.

With the wrinkles concentrated around his eyes, he reminded her awfully a lot of the old man who lived downstairs from her in her past life, the one who would always wave at her even if she could never muster the courage to smile back.

This sense of familiarity broke her mask, and she felt a sharp pang of guilt for ignoring him previously.

"An old man like me wouldn't blame you if something went wrong," he reassured. "I really don't know what's going on behind that machine, nor do I want to find out. All I want to do is to see her again. Once I do, I'll be content and freely pass into my next life."

A warm smile drifted onto his lips, and even Dabria wanted to know what sweet memories he had that kept him going so. She wanted to know what that life must have been like. Judging from his look, it must have been a sweet one.

"I just want to say goodbye," his glasses began fogging, and a single tear slid down his cheek before being buried in his beard. "All I want is for her to say goodbye back."

It couldn't hurt for him to enter a parallel universe for a few moments. But how she wished that she programmed a feature where she could enter the realm along with him. More than anything, she really wanted to know what it felt like to love and be loved.

Dabria scoffed at herself. She truly was selfish after all. She had been too scared to share Hua's burdens, but she wanted her taste of this man's sweetness.

It was her system, after all, she reasoned.

"Can I know a bit about your wife? It's not for the machine but rather just for me," she bit her lips as she said those words.

"Oh Deary, you've made a grave ol' mistake," he chuckled. "If you ask me about my wife, I'm afraid you'll be here for an entire day!"

He ran his fingers through his beard, but it was almost as if he didn't have to think before describing the woman he had loved for his entire life.

"She's a stubborn one. If I ever dared to tell her to turn left, she would be sure to turn right just to mess with me. And she loved piping hot chicken soup. If it didn't burn her mouth when she drank it, she wouldn't take any of it. She always wanted to visit Paris and be the top fashion designer there," he shook his head. "But let me tell you, just take a look at me, and you'll get a taste of her fashion sense. I know it's hard to believe, but I'm not from the fifteenth century either."

His eyes seemed to tell stories by just themselves, and when he spoke of his wife, the dull light in the cloudy irises would turn into twinkling stars. But as he spoke, tears slipped down his face.

As he spoke, an image appeared before Dabria's eyes, and she could see this figure she's never met before come to life.

"I wish you could meet her. I know you must be cringing. None of our children ever liked to hear me talk about our love story, but I swear it's one fit to be an entire romance story. It wasn't love at first sight, but she's really the best thing that happened to me."

Soundlessly, Dabria handed him the paperwork to sign, not wanting to disturb this man's thoughts.

He signed in a flurry, the ink barely dry before he looked up with a lopsided childish smile. "Does this mean that I can see her again?"

Gently, Dabria set the headset on him. He fumbled around for a while trying to adjust it, but he closed his eyes in anticipation.

The year was 1956. Two eyes locked.