Here continues my story …..
One day, I passed by a city centre Chicken Inn, looking
into the glass window, I saw hubby and a girl sitting facing each other and he
very lightly brushed her hair for her, I understood what it meant. After
recovering from that moment of shock, I entered the restaurant, stood in front
of my hubby and stared hard at him, not a tear in my eyes. I have nothing to
say to him, and there is no need to say anything. The girl looked at me, looks
at hubby, stands up and wanted to go, hubby stretched out his hand and stopped
her. He stared back at me, challenging me. I can only hear my slow heart beat,
beating, one by one as if at the brink of death. I eventually backed down, if I
had stood that any longer, I will collapse together with the baby inside me.
That night, he did not come home; he had chosen to use that as a way to
indicate to me: Following mother’s death so did our love for each other.
He did not come home anymore after that. Sometimes, when
I returned home from work, I can tell that the cupboard had been touched – he
had returned to take some of his stuff. I no longer wish to call him; the
initial desire to explain everything to him vanished. I lived alone; I go for
my medical checkups alone, my heart breaks again and again every time I see a
guy carefully helping his wife through the physical examination. My office
colleagues hinted to me to consider aborting the baby, I told them No, I will
not.. I insisted on having to this baby, perhaps it is my way of repaying
mother for causing her death. One day, I came home and I saw hubby sitting in
the living room. The whole house was filled with cigarette smoke. On the coffee
table, there was this piece of paper. I know what it is all about without even
looking at it. In the two months plus of living alone, I have gradually learned
to find peace within myself. I looked at him, removed my hat and said: “You
wait a while, I will sign.” He looked at me, mixed feelings in his eyes, just
like mine.
As I hang up my coat, I keep repeating to myself “You
cannot cry, you cannot cry…” my eyes hurt terribly, but I refused to let tears
come out from there. After I hung up my coat, hubby’s eyes stared fixed at my
bulging tummy. I smiled, walked over to the coffee table and pulled the paper
towards me. Without even looking at what it says, I signed my name on it and
pushed the paper to him. “LD, are you pregnant?” Since mother’s accident, this
is the first time he spoke to me. I could not control my tears any further and
they fell like raindrops. I said: “Yes, but it’s ok, you can leave now.” He did
not go, in the dark, we sat, facing each other. Hubby slowly moved over me, his
tears wet the blanket. In my heart, everything seems so far away, so far that
even if I sprint, I could never reach them. I cannot remember how many times he
repeated “sorry” to me. I had originally thought that I would forgive him, but
now I can’t. In the western restaurant, in front of that girl, that cold look
in his eyes, I will never forget, ever. We have drawn such deep scars in each
other’s heart. For me, it’s unintentional; for him, totally intentional.
look out for the concluding part next week
by Portia
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