Ninety-nine Tests

The first time I really saw the obsession in Simon Jones's eyes was in the ward at No.1 Municipal Hospital. The smell of disinfectant stung my nose. I'd just come out of the daze from the concussion, my vision still blurry, when I heard a nurse sigh as she passed by: "Your boyfriend's been crying in the hallway for almost an hour, his eyes swollen like walnuts." My heart twisted, about to call out to him, but my fingers touched the cold phone screen first. On the screen was a message from Vivian Shawn, along with a photo—Simon Jones lying in a hospital bed, still wearing the striped hospital gown after surgery, his eyes closed. Vivian's hand was gently resting on the back of his hand, with the caption: "Simon just woke up and kept talking about me, saying he hasn't seen me in so long." Vivian Shawn is Simon Jones' high school classmate; he mentioned her twice before, only calling her "just a normal friend." My hand holding the phone started trembling, and when I dialed Simon's number, my voice shook. He answered quickly, his tone lazy from just waking up: "Anna? Why did you wake up without calling me?" "Why is Vivian in your hospital room?"I tried to keep calm, but the words still fell flat as they escaped my lips. There was silence on the other end for three seconds before he replied, "She heard I was hospitalized and came to check on me. The anesthesia hadn't worn off yet, I was dazed, and mistook her for you." "Just like when you first woke up and called me Yale Luke instead."He added, his voice softening, carrying a hint of grievance. Yale Luke is the older brother of my next-door neighbor. He suddenly disappeared when he was eighteen, and I mourned him for five years. When the concussion hit, I did mumble his name in a daze—I never expected Simon Jones to remember it until now. "I had just woken up; my head wasn't clear!" I rushed to explain, tears already welling in my eyes. "Me too," he chuckled softly. "Anna, I really only love you. This is the first test; you have to believe me." Not even half an hour after hanging up, the delivery guy showed up with a gift box. Inside was a platinum necklace with a pendant. The card read: "Anna, I feel so insecure. Once you pass ninety-nine tests, we'll get married, okay?" I touched the necklace, and the unease in my heart gradually faded. He must just care about me so much—that's why he acts this way. After all, we've been together for three years, from college campus to living together after graduation. He used to be so good to me. I didn't think much and just put the necklace on. Little did I know, this was only the start of the nightmare. The second test came the day he had a high fever. With a 39-degree fever, he lay in bed moaning, and I stayed by his side wiping his palms to cool him down. His phone lit up, a message preview popped up—from Vivian Shawn: "Simon, your voice message was so cute, send me another one next time~" My heart sank; I grabbed his phone to unlock it—his password was my birthday. I opened the chat window, and there was a voice message from an hour and a half ago. I pressed play. It was him, with a nasal, playful tone: "Vivian, I feel so terrible, my head hurts so much, I want the ginger tea you make." My hand went instantly ice cold, and my phone slipped onto the bedsheet with a faint sound. Simon Jones woke up, saw my pale face, then glanced at the phone; his expression paled a bit. "Anna, I'm delirious from the fever, I thought I was talking to you."He took my hand, his fingertips warm with body heat—but it couldn't warm my heart. "You clearly said you didn't like ginger tea because you thought it was too spicy."I stared into his eyes, searching for any sign of panic. His gaze flickered away for a moment, then he took a velvet box from the drawer: "This is for you. I saw you eyeing it at the counter for ages last week." I opened it to find a pair of pearl earrings—exactly the style I like.