Chapter 3 — Marriage and Love Are Two Things, So Divorce Is Also My Thing

“From seven thirty-six to nine thirty-nine, the first thing you actively said to me was to ask why I didn't eat.”

Pho Thua Nghien was stunned.

“Do you even remember the time?”

“Yes, I remember.” I put my phone back in my bag. “Because the whole time I was sitting there, I was like a prop that he invited just to prove that his marriage was still very stable.”

His expression immediately changed.

“Lam Tri Hoa, you said too much.”

“I even said it lightly.” I raised my hand to call a taxi. "If I'm serious, I asked her just now, if she understood you so well, why didn't she need you back then?"

Pho Thua Nghien's eyes suddenly darkened.

“What do you know?”

Looking at his reaction, the tight string in my chest felt like someone was tugging on it. He paid attention. Even more attentive than I thought. The taxi stopped on the side of the road. I reached out and pulled the car door. Pho Thua Nghien held the door tightly.

“Come home with me, let's talk properly.”

I looked at his hand. It was the same hand that had just peeled shrimp for Wen Shu Dieu, peeling it so cleanly that even the shrimp thread was meticulously removed. The last time he peeled shrimp for me... When was it? Two years ago I had a fever, a fever of thirty-nine degrees. He helped me put a bowl of porridge on the nightstand and then turned to the video conference. Cold porridge. I don't eat either.

“Go back to your own room.” I said. “She's still waiting for you to comfort her.”

Pho Thua Nghien's voice became even lower.

“You and her have nothing.”

“That's your problem.”

He stared at me.

“What do you mean?”

I sat in the car and looked at him through the slightly open car door.

“I mean, I don't investigate your feelings.”

“I just look at what you do.”

The driver turned around and asked: I read the address of the apartment complex. Before the car door closed, Pho Thua Nghien said one more sentence.

"Lam Tri Hoa, don't regret it later."

I looked at him and nodded.

“That sentence... I'll give it back to you too.”

The taxi slowly rolled away. Rainwater slid down the glass pane. Pho Thua Nghien was still standing in front of the restaurant door, the shadow under the light was stretched far away. My phone vibrated. It was my mother-in-law calling. I didn't pick up the phone. Three seconds later. Deputy Thua Nghien texted.

"My mother might call you. Don't talk nonsense, her blood pressure is not good."

I looked at that message. Suddenly burst out laughing. Look. How familiar. He always knows how to push responsibility onto me. I turned off the phone and leaned back in the back seat. The car smelled faintly of old leather. The airflow from the air conditioner door is dry and cold. I don't cry. When my eye sockets began to sting, I pressed my nails hard into my palm. Then you will be awake. Come home. I turned on the light. The living room is clean and tidy. There are still two apples on the dining table that I washed before leaving the house this morning. Pho Thua Nghien does not like to eat apples with the skin on. Every day I peel them, cut them into pieces and put them in a box to keep them fresh. Before going out tonight. I also asked him:

“What do you want to eat tonight?”

He replied:

“Whatever.”

Those two words, whatever, have been reserved for a long time. I changed my shoes, walked into the office, and turned on the computer. On the screen there is a folder called Family Expense Book. That's a habit I formed after getting married. House installment payment. Car installment payment. Joint account statement. Any major expenses. Month I always rearrange carefully. Pho Thua Nghien once laughed and said I had an occupational disease.

"Between husband and wife, you don't need to make such clear calculations."

At that time I said:

“Not for calculation.”

“But to always be clear in your heart.”

Now that I think about it... Luckily I was always clear. I exported all joint account statements for the last two years. Then open the cloud storage. My tablet and Pho Thua Nghien share a family account. Photos will automatically sync. He always found it annoying so he never turned that feature off. It wasn't until tonight that I found out the two of them were still in contact. Half a month ago. I once saw a photo taken in an airport parking lot on my tablet. In the photo there is only one silver suitcase. Next to the suitcase, half of a woman's skirt was revealed. Pho Thua Nghien said that day he went to meet a customer. I'm not exposing it. I want to see... How much he will do in the end. I open Recently Deleted. Inside are three photos. A photo taken at the airport welcome gate. Wen Shu Dieu pushed the suitcase, while Fu Cheng Yen stood next to her, holding a bouquet of white roses in his hand. One photo is a selfie taken in the car. Wen Shuyao leaned close to his face. Pho Thua Nghien did not look at the camera, but the corners of his lips were still slightly raised. The last one... Is a restaurant receipt. Two servings. A bottle of wine. The date on the invoice was last Friday. That day, Pho Thua Nghien said the company worked overtime. Just arrived at dawn. I exported all the images. The phone vibrated again. This time it's Wen Shuyao. I don't know where she got my WeChat from and sent a friend request. The verification section reads:

"Tri Hoa, let's talk a little. I don't want you to misunderstand Mr. Thua Nghien."

I looked at that text for a moment. Then click Agree. Very soon after that, she texted:

"I'm sorry tonight. I spoke without moderation."

I replied:

“It's okay.”

She sent a relieved expression.

"Don't blame Mr. Thua Nghien. He is a very affectionate person. He and I are just old friends who haven't seen each other for many years."

I looked at the screen. Fingertips slowly typed down a few words.

“If it was just you...”

“Next time let him peel the shrimp for me.”

“Don't win anymore.”

The other side was silent for a full minute. Then she replied:

“If you talk like that, Mr. Thua Nghien will be very tired.”

I laughed.

“Then you take it.”

After that message is sent. She didn't answer anymore. I saved a screenshot of the conversation. Then turn off the phone. By the time the door unlocked sounded... It was already half past eleven at night. Pho Thua Nghien entered the house. The jacket was still damp from the rain. He stood in the mysterious entrance. Seeing me still sitting in the office, his face darkened.

“Are you still not sleeping?”

I closed the computer. From his eyes, the cold expression softened a bit, just as he was about to speak. I pushed a stack of printed documents to the edge of the table.

"Joint account expense statement. Look at this first."

Pho Thua Nghien bowed his head and glanced around, his eyebrows gradually frowning.

“What do you mean?”

I calmly replied:

“Starting from tonight, we will only speak the truth between us.”