After six years of marriage, Lu Sichen hated me to the core.
On our wedding night, he pinched my chin and said, "Shen Zhiyi, you will never want me to love you in this life."
I endured it.
My son had a fever of 40 degrees, and I made more than a dozen calls. He put his arms around another woman in a nightclub and said, "Stop pretending."
I signed the divorce agreement and left the house, as long as my son stayed with me a few days a month.
He signed with a sneer, as if he had finally gotten rid of a burden.
Later, I stood on the podium at Huaihai University and became Teacher Shen among the students.
The days were booming, and people chasing me lined up at the school gate.
But he suddenly appeared in the window seat of the third row of the classroom, sitting among a group of college students in suits and ties, and sat in for a whole semester.
He stopped me in front of all the teachers and students in the school and thrust a stack of documents into my hand.
It was the truth three years ago. And the diary I wrote when I was in high school.
There is only one sentence in the diary: "The wind is very gentle today because Lu Sichen passed by the door of our class."
His eyes were red and his voice was hoarse: "Zhiyi, you have loved me for ten years... Can you give me another chance?"
Just when I was about to refuse, my son poked his head out from behind and said in a babyish voice:
"Mom, just promise dad, he hugs your pillow and cries ugly every night."
Me: "..."
