After three years of marriage, Shen Yan has never looked at me.
On the anniversary day, I made six dishes and one soup, and what awaited me was the white moonlight in his arms. "She's just someone who lives here." He didn't even give me a look.
That night, I knelt on the kitchen floor and wiped away the blood. The child was gone in the belly, and Lin Wei's laughter came from upstairs.
I signed the consent form for the surgery alone. That same night, he was cutting a birthday cake for another woman.
Then I left. I canceled my mobile phone number and deleted all contact information. Three years of marriage, deleted in three minutes.
He's crazy.
He chased her thousands of miles away to a mountainous area, wearing a suit worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, and stood at the entrance of a drafty village. I said through the rusty iron fence: "Mr. Shen, we are divorced."
He said he knew the truth. He knelt on the concrete floor of the classroom and said he had named the child. He sold the company, donated his villa, and lived in a shabby hotel that cost ten yuan a night. His hands were filled with blood blisters.
But he didn't know that some things couldn't be repaid by kneeling down. It's not just fixing a few windows that will bring that kid back.
Later he opened a bookstore called "Late Come".
He thought it was easy to chase his wife. But he didn't know that someone was lining up along the way.
