The Long Road

I followed Zhou Ye for seven years, from school uniform to black dress, from innocence to ruthlessness. The day he went straight, his brothers teased the college student, calling her "sister-in-law." I stood in the shadows, watching those hands that had been stained with blood carefully tie her shoelaces. "Lin Wan." Without looking up, he said, "Don't be like her." "You can roll around in the mud. She can't." I turned and walked out into the rain. His phone had an appointment saved at a bridal shop, scheduled for next week. My medical record said, "Advanced malignant stomach cancer." He didn't know the doctor said I had at most six months left. He also didn't know that my childhood sweetheart, waiting for me back in my hometown, was also in the final stages of cancer. We had agreed to be buried together beneath the parasol tree in our hometown.