When he signed the divorce agreement, he didn't even look at it, but folded it and put it in the deepest part of his wallet.
I was ridiculed by colleagues and ridiculed by relatives. He leaned against the door and said in a very calm voice: "This is your home. If you don't want to see anyone, don't let her in."
His friend came to the house and it was very smoky. I protested silently. The next day, there was an additional line on the refrigerator: "Keep the living room clean."
He coughed late at night, so I accidentally handed him a glass of water. The next day, the glass was washed clean and turned upside down in the kitchen.
We were like two clumsy hedgehogs, using refrigerator magnets and silent actions to tentatively approach.
Until that day, I was blocked in the alley by his enemies, and he appeared with wounds all over his body, like a furious beast.
He protected me behind him and said in a hoarse voice: "Don't be afraid."
At that moment I realized that our marriage might be more than just a one-year house-sharing.
