Chapter 28

Evelyn's fingers tightened slightly around the tissue.

"The lyrics of this song are beautiful," Gregory remarked softly, as if afraid to disturb someone's dream.

"Mmm."

"Some melodies are like time machines—they always bring you back to specific moments."

She lowered her lashes. He was covering for her earlier emotional slip.

"Gregory Wilson. The Dempsey family's old friend."

"Evelyn Carter."

"The youngest OB-GYN director at Central Hospital. A legend in Hudson's medical field." He paused. "I'd heard about you before returning."

She looked up. "You're a doctor too?"

"Johns Hopkins School of Medicine. Just came back last month."

"So an elite returnee." A faint smile touched her lips.

"Your voice suits this song perfectly." His gaze lingered on her flushed fingertips. "Not just being polite."

"Perhaps... it's the mood."

A sudden weight pressed on her shoulder. Vivian had appeared unnoticed, half-draping herself over Evelyn.

"What's so engrossing?" Vivian blinked, mischief dancing at the corners of her mouth.

Gregory adjusted his glasses. "Medical research papers and nostalgic golden oldies."

"How rare. You usually don't speak more than three sentences to women." Vivian nudged Evelyn. "Seems our Dr. Carter has quite the charm."

Evelyn pinched her. "Stop talking nonsense."

"Which part is nonsense?" Vivian turned to Gregory. "Right, Greg?"

Before Evelyn could intervene, Gregory said, "Actually, I've known Dr. Carter for eight years."

"What?!" Vivian's exclamation drew glances from nearby guests.

Evelyn froze. "We've... met before?"

"During the Sino-American medical exchange our freshman year. You gave me a note at Yifu Building."

The floodgates of memory burst open. Evelyn's ears burned instantly.

Vivian gripped her arm excitedly. "Oh my god! Was it a love letter?!"

"Technically," Gregory produced a yellowed envelope from his inner pocket, "it was a memo."

Evelyn stared at the familiar pale blue envelope, her breath catching.

It was the confession letter she'd delivered for a friend.

"Eight years..." Vivian gasped. "Greg, don't tell me you—"

Gregory set the envelope gently on the coffee table. Behind his metal-framed glasses, his gaze was profound yet tender. "I've always wanted to return this to you personally."