Chapter 12 — Dear Wife, Do You Remember Me?

"A six-year-old child knows what's unacceptable."

“I know.” He tightened his grip, "You already know at six years old."

I won't say anything more. Outside the office window is a panoramic view of the city skyline. The sun shines brightly across the floor. I closed my eyes. Many images flashed through my head. Sycamore tree at the end of the alley. The back of his shirt was wet with sweat. The sticky feeling on your fingers as the ice cream melts. He squatted down and smiled, pinching my nose. And that saying too.

“Okay, I'll wait for you.”

I really waited. I gently loosened his grip and took a step back.

“What about your mother?”

“I will handle it.”

“She won't agree easily.”

“I know. But eventually mom will agree.”

“Based on what?”

“Based on the fact that she is your mother.”

“Mom will be angry if she's angry, but she'll never really disown you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure. Give me a little more time.”

I looked at him.

“Okay.”

That evening, I went home. Open the door, change shoes, then sit blankly on the sofa for a while. Then call mom.

“Mom.”

"What's wrong?"

“The son of Uncle Chu's family that mom often talks about.”

"Chu Dien? What's wrong?"

“I'm already dating him.”

The other end of the line was silent for five seconds. Then my mother burst into tears.

“Why are you suddenly crying?”

“Mom is so happy.” She sniffled, "I knew right away that you two were destined."

“Mom, don't overdo it ——”

“I need to call your father immediately!”

“Mom ——”

She hung up the phone. I leaned my head back against the sofa, looking up at the ceiling. Smile. The phone rang. Message from Chu Dien.

“I just called my mom.”

“What did your mother say?”

“Argued for a while. But in the end she settled on one sentence.”

“What question?”

“She said, 'Bring it back here for me to see and then decide'.”

“Is this an agreement?”

“Consider it a concession. For my mother, this is the biggest setback.”

I stared at the screen for a long time. Type a line of text.

"Then arrange a time. I'll go see him."

Send. He answered in a split second.

“This weekend. I will go with you.”

“Yes.”

“To Niem.”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you for what?”

“Thank you for coming back to me.”

I put the phone down. The night outside the window is very peaceful. The streetlight shines through the curtains, drawing a straight line of light on the wooden floor. I remember when I was six years old. I hugged his leg tightly and cried. He squatted down, smiled and pinched my nose.

“Okay, I'll wait for you.”

Nineteen years. From a small alley to a whole city. From a joke to a lifelong promise. I've been waiting. And I, too, have returned. The phone lights up for the last time. It's your message.

“Sleep well, wife.”

I stared at those two words. Don't text back. Hold the phone up to your chest. Close your eyes. The corners of the mouth automatically curl up. This time, I won't scold you anymore. (Run out of)