I Slept with My Boss and Ran Away

Terrence’s heart ached at the thought that he would never see Meredith again, never hear her voice. The pain was sometimes so intense that it left him breathless. His hair had turned white, and he had lost a lot of weight. Clad in monk’s robes, he no longer held the same vigor he once did. Here, Terrence spent his days chanting and copying Buddhist scriptures.

“Master, why are you crying again?” A young voice called out from beneath the window.

It was a little monk. The boy was five years old, nicknamed Puffy, an orphan taken in by the temple. He was adorable, with chubby cheeks and dressed in a padded jacket, standing under the window with his head tilted up.Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

His eyes were full of innocence. “Master, you cry more than I do. I cried this morning too because Master Jack spanked me after I put chili powder in his tea.”

The boy spoke proudly of his mischief. Terrence couldn’t help but think of Little Lucky when he looked at Puffy’s cute face. Little Lucky was over a year old now; she could walk and talk. Although he hadn’t returned home, Stella sent him videos of Little Lucky every day.

He knew his mother’s intention was to soften his heart and bring him back home. Through the videos, Terrence watched his daughter grow-she fell, got sick, cried, laughed, called out for her great-grandmother, learned to walk and run. His daughter looked more like Meredith every day, which only deepened his guilt.

Terrence couldn’t get past the fact that he had caused Meredith’s death. He reached out to pat Puffy’s head. “The wind blew something into my eyes. Puffy, go play somewhere else.”

“Adults always lie. That’s something you’d say to a three-year-old. I’m already five.” Puffy ran off to draw in the snow with a stick while Terrence continued copying scriptures by the window.

After a while, Puffy shouted from the courtyard, “Master, Master! Look at what I’ve drawn!”

Terrence looked up and saw a sketch of Meredith’s face in the snow. It was simple but lifelike.

Terrence’s heart trembled violently; the portrait smiled at him as if Meredith herself were smiling at him.

“Puffy, how did you draw this picture?” Terrence was astonished.

How did Puffy know Meredith? And he had only been learning painting from a master at the temple for a year.

“I saw it in your room under your pillow,” Puffy said with a smile. “Master, do you think it looks like her? Cheer up! See? The pretty lady is smiling.”

Terrence understood Puffy’s kind intentions. The temple was filled with talented individuals; during his stay of more than half a year, Terrence had met several geniuses from various fields-medicine and art among them. Each had their reasons for seeking refuge here.

Puffy was taught by these masters and being naturally smart, he had learned many skills that made him seem like a prodigy compared to other children his age.

Puffy asked innocently, “Master, is she your wife? Did you have a fight with her? Do you miss her? Where is she?”

Terrence didn’t know how to answer.

Puffy continued, “Did she become a star in the sky?”

“Yes,” Terrence said softly as he looked up at the sky where snowflakes danced downwards. “She became a star, turned into trees, mountains, snow, wind… As long as I miss her, she can be everything here-always by my side and never gone.”

Puffy understood that becoming a star meant someone had died.

“Master, you have more white hair now,” Puffy sighed deeply with his hands behind his back as if pondering life’s mysteries. “What is love in this world that makes people vow life and death together? Life is so long; can there really be hurdles one can’t overcome?”

Puffy muttered to himself; his innocent face spoke mature words far beyond his years. Living among monks who chanted scriptures daily had made him much more mature than other children his age.

Muttering to himself, Puffy walked away; he was the joy of everyone in the temple and always had classes to attend. Now it was time for his painting class.

Terrence looked back at the snowy courtyard; the snow fell heavier and soon covered the portrait completely without leaving any trace.