A phone call

Hugo panicked and desperately sought a lifebuoy in the empty room, but there was nothing he could cling to. He felt the oxygen in his chest growing scarce, so he forcefully pushed open the window, allowing the wind from Washington Lake to hit his face like a gust of air, washing away all his expressions. Despite the biting gusts almost preventing him from opening his eyes, he stubbornly widened them, enduring the sharp sensation as if hoping it would settle his chaotic thoughts.

Unfortunately, Hugo failed.

His mind kept replaying the sorrow of his lover's eternal departure. His subconscious seemed to recognize it as Sam's emotion, but Hugo couldn't detach himself. He couldn't control his own emotions. After immersing himself deeply in the role, he merged with Sam to the point where he couldn't distinguish between the story and reality. Therefore, this immense grief surged forth and overwhelmed Hugo.

The fierce wind over Washington Lake continued to blow, causing Hugo's eyes to become extremely dry, followed by a flood of moisture. Hugo closed his eyes in distress, leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. Although Sam within him wept in sorrow, Hugo didn't want his own vulnerability to be revealed through tears. These two emotions clashed like two completely different personalities fighting within Hugo's mind, and the excruciating pain of almost tearing apart his mental consciousness drained his strength. He had to breathe heavily just to relieve the agony that nearly tortured him to death.

Finally, as the emotions gradually settled, Hugo's gaze fell upon the landline on the bedside table. Unconsciously, he reached out to grab the telephone receiver. He didn't know whether it was Sam or himself who made this move, but before he realized it, he had already held the receiver and dialed a series of numbers.

In a daze, Hugo seemed to see a figure entering the room. He looked up, his vision blurred, and murmured, "Maggie..." It was as if Sam constantly dreamed of his wife Maggie in the midnight hour, seeing phantoms. But the next second, the person before his eyes transformed again. Hugo stood frozen in place, all words stuck in his throat, because the person standing before him had now become Uma.

Hugo had to close his eyes, but deep inside his heart, Sam kept roaring, "Open your eyes," forcing Hugo to struggle between illusion and reality.

At that moment, the other end of the phone was answered, and a voice came through, "Hello, this is Uma Thurman." This familiar voice awakened Hugo from his tangled thoughts. A surge of electricity seemed to flow through his entire body, gradually clearing his muddled mind.

The images of Sam and Maggie in his mind slowly disappeared, replaced by his own and Uma's figures. This finally allowed Hugo's overheated brain to gradually cool down. He had unexpectedly dialed Uma's phone number, and he rubbed his temples, which were throbbing with pain. He had no idea such a thing would happen, and he didn't know what to say after the call connected.

For a moment, Hugo thought about hanging up, but before he could make a move, he spoke first, "Give me a reason." Hugo didn't know if it was Sam speaking or himself asking the question, but once the words were uttered, he regained his composure because he truly needed an answer. He sat quietly beside the bedside table, holding the receiver, waiting for a reason to emerge or for a real conclusion to unfold.

After Uma answered the phone, there was silence for a long time. She thought it might be a prank, especially since she could only hear the other person's breathing on the other end, which became even more eerie in the late night. But just as she was about to hang up, a voice came through the receiver, saying, "Give me a reason." Although the caller didn't mention their name, she knew who it was. How could she forget that voice?

In fact, this was the first contact between Hugo and Uma in thirty-three days since he asked her to leave. They had been like complete strangers before, with no connection between them.

They had never truly communicated with each other, nor had they explained any details. They hadn't officially said "goodbye" as a couple either; it was as if everything remained the same as before. They hadn't argued like a couple over the reasons for their breakup either. Everything was lightly buried and peaceful... until today.

Hugo wanted a reason.

Everything had been perfectly normal before, even bordering on perfection. Whether it was the first half of New Year's Eve or the three weeks they spent together in Malibu, everything had been going smoothly. The romantic details, the happy moments, the beautiful instants were as vivid as the most vibrant flowers, still etched in his mind.

But suddenly, everything changed, just because Uma auditioned for "The Firm"? Why didn't Uma fight for it? She could have explained to Hugo that it was only for her career. And why didn't Uma hesitate or resist when Hugo asked her to leave? She left decisively, without a trace of longing afterward. And... were all the past experiences false and non-existent?

Uma knew what Hugo wanted as a reason, but she didn't want to give it to him, and she couldn't. Because she couldn't admit that she had initially approached Hugo with ulterior motives. The premiere of "A Few Good Men" was the catalyst for it all. She couldn't admit that she had been moved by Hugo's sincerity afterward, that she felt conflicted inside, but when the opportunity came again, she chose the opportunity over Hugo. And she couldn't admit that during the process of hurting Hugo, even knowing the possible consequences, she had acted without hesitation...

So Uma chose silence.

Both ends of the phone fell into silence. The surrounding stillness made the sound of breathing unusually clear. Hugo could hear the sound of the television playing news in the background at Uma's place, and Uma could hear the loud laughter of the crew members outside Hugo's window. These small and trivial noises made the silence on the phone even more profound.

Suddenly, Hugo realized that asking for a reason was futile. Uma hadn't made any contact in the past month, and that was Uma's answer. It couldn't be any clearer, simpler, or more direct. His brain became unusually clear.

The question was never "why", but rather "so what". For Uma, whether this relationship existed or not, when faced with an opportunity in her career, she chose to let it go. Did it matter if the process involved struggle and hesitation or if it was done without a second thought? For Hugo, the trust he gave didn't receive a response, and the emotions he invested didn't receive reciprocation. Just like today, when he impulsively dialed the phone after becoming deeply immersed in the role, it showed that he still valued this relationship deep down. But what did that matter?

The details of the process no longer needed to be investigated; this was the outcome. It was like when a woman questioned a man about his vows and promises after a breakup, none of it mattered anymore because love had already ended. All the promises naturally became void, it couldn't be simpler. Uma's silence, just like the silence of the past thirty-three days, was the answer.

Hugo closed his eyes and exhaled a long breath, as if he wanted to purge all the toxins and impurities from his heart. The suppressed emotions of the past month finally erupted completely today, catalyzed by "Sam". Afterward, a smile formed at the corners of Hugo's mouth, filled with irony yet also a sense of contentment.

The irony was that this so-called relationship had ended in emptiness. The contentment was that they had at least once experienced moments of happiness.

Hugo decided to let go, not of Uma, but of himself. He didn't want to foolishly dwell on the past. Only by letting go of the past could he look towards the future. Just like Sam, who was constantly immersed in memories of his late wife, Maggie. He couldn't move forward, even though he continued living. His soul remained stuck in the past. Only when Sam truly let go could he begin to live again, and Annie belonged to his future. Hugo decided to do the same.

Hugo's mind, which had been erupting like a volcano, finally quieted down. The deep wounds in his heart were reopened, cleansing away the decaying flesh and pus. Although the wounds still bled slowly, the faint pain was no longer deadly; instead, it kept Hugo awake and aware.

"Do you remember? I said I wanted to play the guitar for you..." Hugo finally broke the silence and spoke. It seemed like centuries had passed since the last time they spoke. They sat quietly on both ends of the phone, and then Hugo spoke. However, Uma didn't anticipate that his second sentence would be this.

Uma's heart tightened at Hugo's words. When did he say that? Her mind was filled with chaotic thoughts, making it difficult to find a clear clue. After a while, Uma finally remembered. It was at the Sydney family's New Year's Eve party when she danced with Hugo. He kept stepping on her feet because he didn't know how to dance, and he promised to compensate by playing the guitar. She didn't expect Hugo to still remember, but it took her a long time to recall. Yet now, it felt like a distant memory.

Hugo held the receiver and waited for a while, but there was still silence, only the sound of the news playing on the television. This time, Hugo didn't continue to wait. He simply gave the receiver a slight squeeze and hung up the phone.

Uma listened to the busy tone on the other end of the phone, and for some reason, she remembered the slow four-step dance on New Year's Eve. Hugo's awkward and clumsy steps made him break out in a sweat, but he persevered and tried his best for himself. Hugo's focused and sincere gaze suddenly appeared before her eyes.

Hugo looked at the silent phone in the darkness of the night, telling himself: This should be the end.