Late-Blooming Cherry Blossoms
> In high school, I secretly slipped a love letter into Zhou Yubai’s textbook.
> But he wrote another girl’s name on the title page.
> Ten years later, we met again, and I asked him out to dinner.
> Swirling his glass of red wine, he said, “She’s dead, but there’s always been a grave in my heart.”
> I smiled and wiped away my lipstick mark. “That’s okay. I’m good at robbing graves.”
> Later, the night I moved into his apartment, his mother shoved a check at me. “The Zhou family won’t accept a daughter-in-law from a lowly background.”
> I tore the check to pieces right in front of her. “Auntie, your son is worth a lot more than this.”
> Then he was in a car accident and lost his memory. The only name he remembered was the girl he’d always loved.
I held his hand against my belly. “Now there’s a new moonlight buried here, just for you.”
