Chapter 3
524words
"Let's go, time to head home."
His voice was gentle, and as he bent down to get my bag, he glimpsed my high heels and frowned slightly: "Walking home in those? Damn, your poor feet."
Without waiting for my answer, he crouched down in front of me and lifted me steadily onto his back.
The streetlights stretched and overlapped our shadows, making us look like an inseparable whole.
A young girl passing by nudged her companion, her tone envious: "Just look at them."
Indeed, from school uniforms to wedding dresses, couples who've been together since youth are rare.
I once believed this was the most solid form of love.
But fate's sudden downturns always catch us off guard.
Just a few days later, at the end of a gathering, one of Yuri's close colleagues, perhaps out of kindness, smiled and said to me:
"Hey, looks like congratulations are in order soon! Don't forget to invite us to the celebration when the time comes."
The "celebration" he referred to was self-evident.
At that moment, I didn't know what expression was on my face,
but I think it must have been dignified.
I even managed to return a vague smile.
I didn't let Yuri come pick me up.
Unusually, I scanned a shared bicycle at the roadside and rode it home.
The night breeze hit my face, bringing a coolness with it.
This feeling was so familiar.
The year we graduated, he said he wanted to pursue a master's degree, saying that in the medical field, without further education, you'd be far behind others.
I nodded without hesitation: "Alright, I'll support you."
From then on, I began working day and night.
Office job during the day, food delivery after work.
To save money, I couldn't even afford to buy an electric bike, just scanning a bicycle to weave through the streets and alleys.
When I was so exhausted that my immunity dropped and my body broke out in rashes, I still stubbornly refused to go to the hospital.
Until he found the ointment I had hidden under my pillow, he hugged me with reddened eyes, his voice trembling: "I'm not going to study anymore. You stop, please stop."
I pushed him away, my tone forcefully harsh: "No! You must continue your education. Even if I regret my choice today, you have to make sure I'm crying in a BMW!"
He wiped away his tears and swore to me: "I won't let you down."
And now, riding this cold shared bicycle, I can't shed a single tear. It turns out that sitting on a bicycle also makes it impossible to cry.
His colleagues probably told him something.
That night, he came home especially late.
It wasn't until three in the morning that the sound of keys turning fell upon the entrance.
He tiptoed in, the house engulfed in dark silence.
I didn't turn on the lights, but in the darkness, I was the first to break this suffocating stillness.
My voice was so calm it seemed foreign even to myself:
"Let's get divorced, Yuri."
