When Tracy first joined Frank's research group earlier this year, he would complain to me every day about how careless and clumsy she was.
At first, I advised him not to be too hard on her.
But later, Tracy's name gradually filled our lives.
He mentioned her name three times in every five sentences he spoke to me.
He went from scolding her to admiring her.
He said she was very much like I used to be, passionate about life, enjoying it, lively, cheerful, and very ambitious.
As I reminisced about the past, Tracy's words pulled me back to reality.
"Eve, I was wrong before, and I apologize. Please forgive me."
She said the words of apology but showed no sign of guilt. Instead, there was a strange sense of superiority.
Her gaze at me was challenging, yet Frank couldn't see it through.
Seeing that I didn't speak, he wanted to hold my hand to remind me.
I avoided it, laughed out loud, and then calmly said, "I'm not angry. In fact, I want to thank you."
"Thank you for waking me up and for making me realize how foolish I was for trying so hard to hold on." However, I didn't say the latter half.
Frank was taken aback, looking at me with confusion. "Why would you thank her?"