Chapter 2 — Before Closing Time, I Changed Grooms

I went to a nearby coffee shop, completing an online meeting. It wasn't until evening that I received his explanation: she was cut on her hand by a fruit knife, the wound was very shallow, he helped her apply a new Band-Aid. I replied, "I know", then moved the papers, computer and a few important items that were in the rented house to Trinh Man's house. I moved out very decisively, even taking my usual medication with me, conveniently canceling my right to pay the remaining amount to the hotel where the wedding was held. The next day I still went to work as usual. At lunch break, I contacted the landlord and asked clearly about the procedure for changing tenants. When Bui Tu Xuyen returned and saw that half of the wardrobe was empty, he thought I was packing for my honeymoon. I don't remind you. The eighth registration appointment was proactively suggested by him. He promised not to answer anyone's phone calls, and even put it on silent mode right in front of me. I agreed to go, just because I wanted to see one last thing clearly. When Nguyen Tinh Hoa really appears in front of you, will you remember what you promised? The answer is right outside the door. I only told this story to Trinh Man. Before I left, she squatted at the entrance and zipped my suitcase for me. After pulling halfway, she raised her head and asked:

“If he still leaves today, will you really give up?”

“Yes.”

“What about To Ky Bach?”

I put the spare key on the shoe cabinet and didn't answer right away. To Ky Bach is my college friend and also a new legal advisor invited by the company. We've known each other long enough that he's seen me wearing braces, staying up all night preparing to defend my thesis, and arguing until I blushed with others after a debate competition. I also witnessed him being so poor that he ate vegetarian noodles at the canteen for a week, his vest cuffs were threadbare, but he still brought the wallet he found to the police station. The year he graduated, he took a job in Shanghai, while I stayed in Hangzhou. We have little contact. Sometimes we don't talk for several months, but whenever we encounter something, we think of the other person. My first employment contract had a non-competition clause. To Ky Bach marked each clause and emailed it back to me at midnight, writing only one sentence at the end of the letter:

"This company has more tricks than salary. Consider carefully."

When his father had heart surgery, I helped him contact the doctor. The phone connected, the other end was silent for a long time. Perhaps at that time he was standing outside the hospital hallway, occasionally hearing the sound of cart wheels rolling on the tile floor.

“Kianwei Road.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

"Don't just say thank you. After surgery, invite me to dinner."

That dinner appointment was not fulfilled until three years later. He returned to Hangzhou to attend the trial and invited me to eat a bowl of beef noodles. Bui Tu Xuyen was also present. The two politely shook hands, no one said anything else. Later I found out that To Ky Bach changed his train ticket that night and sat alone in the waiting room until morning. We know a part of each other's lives, and at the same time deliberately keep boundaries that should not be crossed. He knows that I do not accept quitting my job after getting married, and knows that my parents do not live together with their children. I know he comes home to have dinner with his mother every weekend. I know that every time we argue, he talks less and has to wait for his emotions to subside before opening his mouth. At that time, no one thinks about getting married. Those insights are just fragments accumulated over the years. A month ago, my tire blew out in the company basement. He had just approved the contract and rolled up his sleeve to help me change the spare tire. Wrench covered in machine oil. He stood in front of the sink and rubbed his hands over and over again, but there was still black in between his fingernails.

“Still want to marry him?” he asked.

“The appointment has already been made.”

He bowed his head and wiped his hands, one sheet of paper after another was soaked.

"I don't advise you to break up. Advising you when two people are arguing is like having too much water to let go."

“So what do you want to say?”

“Someday when you really finish, remember to look back one more time.”

I don't pretend not to understand.

“Look at me?”

“Yes. Look at me.”

He admitted very calmly, but his ears turned red. I leaned against the sink and asked him a lot of unromantic things. Where do you live, who does the housework, will you have children, what will you do when your parents get sick, and if your work has to be changed, who will give way? To Ky Bach did not say "everyone listens to me". He seriously answered every question, even arguing with me about two issues. After we finished talking, I told him:

"I will resolve the current relationship first. Until it is over, you cannot move forward."

“Okay.”

He threw the used tissue into the trash.

“I'm waiting for your message.”

The next day, he still sent comments about the contract to the company email as usual, his address was still "Road Manager". That private message remains in the chat frame. I neither delete nor reply. Until today, when I stood in front of the door of the Civil Affairs Department, I opened it again.

3

The receptionist began clearing the tables, reminding everyone in the lobby that the counter was about to stop giving out numbers. She looked behind me.

“Is your male friend not in yet?”

“Changed people, on the way.”

She took off her glasses.

“Girl, you can't arbitrarily find someone to take your place when registering your marriage.”

“I've known him for many years. I know what I'm doing.”

She looked at me again, perhaps feeling that today's youth change people faster than they can cut and paste short videos online.