Chapter 8 — Today, I’m Done Waiting

Since I have never left before, does that mean I am not allowed to leave for the rest of my life?

Xuan seemed to realize he had spoken out of turn. He averted his gaze from mine.

I only feel that your current decision is not like your usual self.

Then what is considered like my usual self?

Waiting for you at home?

Taking care of the child in your place?

Stepping quietly aside whenever Rou needs you?

And when you are finally done with your business and return, ending every problem with a single embrace?

He frowned.

Sui, things between us are not like that.

Then what are they like?

Tell me.

He remained silent for a long time. In the end, he only uttered a single sentence:

The story should not have progressed to this point.

My fingers slowly tightened.

What story?

Xuan expression shifted slightly.

I was just giving an example.

What kind of example?

Isn't marriage a story? He quickly recovered his composure. It has a beginning and an end.

But our ending should not be like this.

Then what should our ending be like?

Xuan looked at me. At that moment, that familiar, unwavering certainty flickered in his eyes once more.

You will come home.

We will bring Jia Moc back.

Once you recover from your illness, we will have another child.

Everything will return to its original track.

He spoke with such absolute conviction, sounding less like someone expressing a hopeful wish and more like a student reciting an answer memorized long in advance. I did not question him further.

Leave.

I will come to pick you up for the hospital tomorrow.

There is no need.

The doctor said you need a follow-up examination.

I went today.

He was startled. Why did you not tell me? Once again, that very same question. Suddenly, I felt it was completely unnecessary to offer any further explanation.

Take your repairmen and leave.

Do not come here anymore.

Xuan stood frozen in place.

Lam Sui, you will live to regret this.

The thing I regret most is every single time I was naive enough to believe that next time, you would arrive in time.

His complexion turned terribly grim. In the end, he still turned around and walked away. The workers from the interior design firm also retreated. The bookstore returned to its quiet atmosphere.

The next day, I went to the kindergarten to resubmit my personal relationship documents and reclaim my child pickup rights. I also met with a lawyer to arrange formal custody and visitation terms. By afternoon, I attended my first psychological therapy session. When the doctor asked me what I feared the most at present, I pondered for a long time.

I am afraid that Jia Moc will no longer trust me.

I am afraid that the boy will think everything is his own fault.

I am afraid that I will finally manage to leave Xuan, only to leave my child trapped behind within the old narrative.

The doctor did not understand that last remark, and I did not bother to explain.

Returning to the bookstore, I began clearing away the stack of cardboard boxes on the ground floor. At the very bottom lay a few books that had been preserved with utmost care. Among them was a hardcover edition of the sweet romance novel centered around us. The cover had yellowed slightly. The title of the book was intertwined with our names. Back then, the author had shown me a physical proof. She had smiled and told me that the title contained both of our names combined.

The final chapter of the novel depicted our wedding. Xuan stood amidst a sea of white roses, holding my hand tightly. He had promised that from then on, no matter what happened, he would always be the very first person to run to my side. The author had written: From this day forward, Lam Sui will never have to wait again. The story ended right there.

Yet, I ended up waiting for five more grueling years.

I flipped to the very back page. On the flyleaf, there was a line of handwriting penned in fountain pen. It was not printed text, nor was it my own handwriting. The ink had faded into a soft bluish-gray.

After the grand finale has drawn to a close, who will remind me to go on loving her?

I stared fixedly at those words. My chest felt as though it were being crushed beneath a heavy boulder. This exact handwriting was something I had gazed upon throughout all these years. Whether Xuan was signing official documents, writing greeting cards, or signing Jia Moc homework notebooks, he always wrote just like this.