We once shared an umbrella, shared a bowl of instant noodles in a ten-square-meter rental house, and said good night to each other through text messages during countless overtime nights. He said that every inch of his future includes me.
But when he was promoted to a supervisor, socializing more and more, and the smell of strange perfume appeared on his shirt, I had doubts about our "future" for the first time.
Until that day, I accidentally opened his old mobile phone and saw the only document in the encrypted photo album - a house purchase contract named after both of us, dated on the day when we had the most violent quarrel.
It turns out that what he desperately rushed to was never a distant place without me.
Mission: Life is full of seas, believe in love