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墨書 Inktalez
Wang Xu arrived soon, and as he did, the atmosphere in the place became lively again. He had crossed paths with me during our time as classmates, and after a slight nod, he naturally sat down beside me, taking my hand and slipping it into his pocket.
A few classmates began to tease us, calling us a couple who had gotten their marriage certificate before graduating from college. They used to envy us, and now they were just trying to get under the skin of their single friends, asking if I was annoyed by it.
I simply smiled without saying a word.
Wang Xu couldn't resist the teasing and cheerfully picked up my unfinished drink from the table, starting to clink glasses with everyone. His alcohol tolerance was better than mine, but even in the warm atmosphere, he ended up with a flushed face.
I occasionally turned my head to glance at Wang Xu's profile, watching as his eyes squinted into slits while he laughed. He took a sip of his drink, sighed contentedly, and then picked up a skewer of grilled meat. Just as he was about to put it in his mouth, he seemed to remember something and turned to look at me. After a moment, he brought the skewer to my lips while still holding my hand firmly.
I took a bite, and the crowd erupted in cheers again.
Finally, as the gathering came to an end past three in the morning, everyone said their goodbyes, promising to meet again when they had time—though that "when" might not be until next year.
As people began to leave in twos and threes, Wang Xu turned to face me, studying me for a moment before gently asking, "Are you drunk?"
I shook my head; I really wasn't drunk—I was wide awake.
Wang Xu sighed and crouched down to lift me onto his back, walking slowly step by step.
I buried my face in the crook of Wang Xu's neck and inhaled deeply. He sensed it and laughed, asking me, "What are you doing?"
"I'm just smelling you."
I want to cry so much; almost every day when I see Wang Xu, I feel tears welling up. My gentle Wang Xu, my cold-war Wang Xu, the one who holds my hand—each side makes me feel empty. Even though I reach out repeatedly, I can't grasp anything. I'm afraid that in the end, the one left with nothing will be me.
After returning home, my rationality crumbled. I held onto Wang Xu tightly, refusing to let him go. He helplessly explained that he was just running water for me to take a bath. I stared at him and insisted that if he was going to wash, we should wash together.
The rising steam filled the entire bathroom as the shower sprayed hot water down on my face, cascading smoothly. I clung tightly to Wang Xu's back, my fingers tangled in his damp hair, allowing him to kiss me passionately.
With the scent of alcohol lingering in the air, we were like two trapped beasts eager to release our primal urges—in the bathroom, on the sofa, under the blankets. I called out Wang Xu's name several times until he leaned close to my ear and whispered, "I love you."
I woke up at noon; the blazing sun hung high in the sky, making it hard for me to open my eyes.
Enduring the aching pain throughout my body, I got out of bed. My mother-in-law hadn't come today either. I casually grabbed something to eat and was feeling bored when I picked up my phone. After opening WeChat, I realized I hadn't changed my number yet; it was still that application’s small account. My Moments showed there were new updates.
I knew all too well that it could only be a post from Deng Xiaomei. I ran through dozens of possibilities in my mind about what it could be about but ultimately lacked the courage to click and see.
I’m not afraid of being laughed at for saying this; I often laugh at myself. Sensitive yet humble, lost yet helpless—I find this life disgusting, yet I still want to hold on tightly and not let go. All I want is a complete home with a husband who loves only me. Is it wrong for me to desire this?
Every single day now makes me feel wronged.
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