Eight months after their marriage, Wen Ye sat in the living room and counted Shen Du's breaths.
He sat next to him, his shoulder less than ten centimeters away from her, but she felt like he was separated by an entire wilderness.
Shen Du is a model husband in everyone's eyes. He remembered her hay fever, holding back her drinks, sending flowers on holidays, and staying up all night when she was sick. She has never been left out in the marital life. She will help her tidy up her scarf when she goes out. She will bring her favorite cheesecake when she comes home. Her menstrual period is more accurate than she can remember.
But only Wen Ye felt something was wrong.
He is so perfect. It's as perfect as an operation manual. I couldn't find a single typo or signature in the entire book.
Until she found an old photo in the study - seventeen-year-old Shen Du and a girl sitting side by side under a tree, smiling so hard that they showed their tiger teeth. It was an expression she had never seen before.
She followed the clues and spelled out a name: Jirou. That should be Shen Du's first love.
But a car accident happened. She saved Shen Qingyan, and Shen Du's eyes turned red for the first time outside the operating room. He started to be nice to her - the really nice kind, he would be nervous, flustered, and wake up in the middle of the night to see if she was still breathing.
Wen Ye thought he finally learned to love her.
Until she discovered that all the "good things" during that honeymoon were "guilt".
She signed the divorce agreement and flew to Italy.
Two years later, she returned to China to hold an exhibition and found Shen Du standing at the back of the crowd. A cufflink was worn out from the cuff of his suit - she gave it to him in the first year of their marriage, with one word engraved on it: "Wild".
That night he blocked the door of her gallery, his voice as dumb as sandpaper: "Yeye, are you still leaving?"
She turned and walked away quickly.
He didn't see her eyes turn red when she turned around.
