Su Wancheng gave up the full scholarship offer in London for Gu Yushen and stayed with him for three years.
For three years, she got up at six o'clock every day to make breakfast, remembered all his preferences, gave him warm medicine when he had a stomachache, and cleaned up the mess after he was drunk.
He asked her: "You won't leave, will you?"
She smiled and said, "No."
She thought it was a promise, he took it for granted.
Until the day her father was critically ill, she made two phone calls. The first one, he said, "He's in a meeting"; the second one, he said, "Song Lingyi has something going on and can't leave."
She signed the death notice alone.
She passed away quietly a week after the funeral. The keys are on the shoe cabinet, the letter is buried under the bottle of red wine, and the suitcase slides into the morning mist at five o'clock in the morning.
When Gu Yushen woke up, the room was dark. No breakfast, no notes, no one who said "won't leave".
He flew to London to chase her and stood in the rain for three hours. She said: "I don't love you anymore. It's not a tantrum, it's the truth."
He learned to cook, grow flowers, and teach children to read "The Little Prince." He writes her an email once a week and she never replies.
At the age of seventy-five, they met again in London. He asked: "Can I hug you?"
She said: "No. People who have been close to each other cannot be friends. Because if you look at them again, you want to have them."
This is a story about sunk costs.
It took her three years to learn to let go, and it took him the rest of his life to learn to love her.
It's just that the time difference was too long, and by the time they finally learned it, they were no longer in the same garden.
Intention: She is the air he is accustomed to. When he learns to breathe, she has dissipated.