On the ring finger of Wesley’s left hand lies a scar—a medal he earned for his first love, and the death knell of his career. In Felix’s eyes rests a grey-green forest, a cage that has held Wesley captive for eight years, and his only faith.
During those long eight years, Felix was the perfect receiver, and at the same time, the humblest “imitation substitute”.
Until that day, Wesley stubbed out his cigarette, pried open his clenched fingers, and spoke in a voice as cold as ice: “Don’t act like a child and make this uglier than it already is.”
That night, Felix’s heart shattered. He turned toward a wealthy arranged marriage, yet on the engagement cruise ship, he watched helplessly as the man who had ruined him plunge into the deep ocean. Without hesitation, he tore up the marriage contract and leaped into the pitch-black abyss. At the bottom of the sea, near death, he clamped a plain band tightly onto that old scar.
“We die together.”
It was the final, wildest sacrifice of a stray dog to its master.
