That morning, Gatsby picked me up in his luxurious yellow sports car. We drove toward New York at an extremely high speed, the sound of the engine deafening. Along the way, he told me about his past. However, his story was simply too exaggerated, entirely lacking in substance. He said he had fought in the war in Europe and had inherited a large fortune. Inside that shiny sports car, there seemed to hide many unspeakable secrets.
I couldn't help but ask him, "Where exactly did your wealth come from?"
He froze for a moment, his eyes somewhat evasive, deliberately avoiding my gaze. This moral doubt was as impossible to ignore as that hollow yellow sports car.
"I... I inherited money from my family," he answered ambiguously. "Later, I made some in several different businesses."
Before I could press him further, he immediately pointed out the window and shouted, "Look ahead!"
He quickly changed the subject, but the suspicion in my heart only grew deeper. Was his wealth really legal? What secrets were behind this money?
As we were nearing New York, he finally revealed a secret he had hidden for many years. "Nick," he looked at me and said, "five years ago, Daisy and I were deeply in love." Hearing these words, I finally understood everything. The reason Gatsby bought that enormous mansion was because he wanted to be a little closer to Daisy. Every night, he looked out at the faint green light on the opposite shore, his heart full of unrealistic fantasies. Even though five years had passed, his love for her had not changed. The reason he threw so many luxurious parties without hesitation was also for Daisy. He hoped that one day she might just chance to appear. He begged me to invite Daisy over to my house for tea. Seeing the desperate longing in his eyes, I couldn't help but agree.
The afternoon of the tea, the sky opened up in a torrential downpour. That eye-catching yellow sports car was parked next to my small wooden cabin. Gatsby had arrived very early, and he appeared unusually nervous. His hands were trembling, and he couldn't sit still. "No one is coming!" he paced anxiously, his face pale.
Since he already possessed so much wealth, why would he be so anxious? This heavy anxiety was completely different from his usual confidence. Looking at him in this state, I couldn't help but comfort him, saying that Daisy was surely on her way. Even though it was pouring rain outside, his inner feelings were even more chaotic than the weather. As time ticked by, the atmosphere in the house grew increasingly tense.
Finally, a car stopped at the door. Daisy stepped out of the car, the rain soaking her coat. She walked into my narrow wooden cabin, and the air inside instantly froze. Gatsby, who had at some point slipped outside, was also completely soaked by the heavy rain. He walked slowly into the house, and the two finally met for this long-awaited reunion.
This reunion was full of suffocating awkwardness. They looked at each other, the air so heavy it was almost hard to breathe. Having not seen each other for five long years, all that remained between the lovers was a wordless sense of distance. Daisy looked at the man in front of her, shock and tears flickering in her eyes. Gatsby's eyes were similarly red as he fought back his emotions, his gaze fixed intensely upon her.
Could it be that this was the ending he had bought with all that immense, unexplained wealth? The sound of the rain outside was loud, but inside the house, they just silently gazed at one another.
