For the first ti, she was making a conscious decision to break up: evaporating from his life without granting him even the slightest chance to plead for her to stay.
He was agonized, felt as if he had died.
Missing her was like a venomous snake tightly coiled around his heart. He had never dedicated so much energy and ti to anyone else in his life—when you love soone, you’re willing to give everything, money, effort.
Wan Donglin said, "Doesn’t it bother you that she followed ? Huang Xiaojue, you don’t really love her at all."
No, that’s not true.
Even if those things did matter to him on so level, they weren’t the main reason.
The crux was that he had gradually seen her true colors. After a ten-year romance marked by frequent separations, he had always held onto the image of an innocent and gentle young girl, kind and pure as a dove. So, to discover she was a con artist, ruthless and manipulative—it was less a shock than a profound confusion.
So that’s the other side of Yan Xixi.
Just like the steadily yellowing notebook he had once again opened:
’X year, X month, with a certain man at a teahouse spending five hundred...’
’X year, X month, spent eight hundred at a bar, chased by a certain man across three blocks...’
He’d known all along, but he didn’t want to believe it.
Just like these heartbreaking records.
Even her words, "Xiaojue, I love you so much, in this life, the one I love the most is you..."
It was only now that he realized he couldn’t live without her—"Xixi, I have never, ever thought of breaking up with you. Even when witnessing your ruthlessness and unscrupulousness... I never thought of ending things."
However, before his confusion could get far, the storm had hit. It was just like that surveillance tape he had seen. The abuse his mother and aunts had heaped upon her was exactly what she feared the most, and precisely what she couldn’t endure.
He collapsed on the ground, as if he had died.
He looked around at their newly decorated house, situated in a pri location. He recalled taking her to see it when they were buying it. He had also asked for her opinions during the renovation and planned to add her na to the ownership certificate once it was issued...
All preparations were complete; they were just waiting for the wedding day.
Yet, their planned wedding date, April 27th, was long gone. Now, it was already late May.
He thought that perhaps he, ultimately, hadn’t managed to escape his mother’s ddling, hadn’t managed to decisively go and get their marriage certificate. Everything had spiraled into a dead end.
His phone kept ringing repeatedly, but he didn’t want to answer.
All the calls and texts were from his mother. "Son, I’m sorry. Even if I’ve made countless mistakes, everything I did was for your own good. Can’t you forgive just this once?"
He held his glass, eyes bloodshot.
The most hateful phrase—"I’m doing this for your own good."
How could parents possibly know what’s truly best for their children?
If they were really doing things for their children’s good, shouldn’t they prioritize their children’s feelings? Shouldn’t they be happy to see their children happy? Yet, their actions were vastly self-centered, preserving their own vanity, choices, or feelings—all whilst hypocritically claiming, ’I’m doing this for your good!’
Claiming ’I’m doing this for your good’ allows them to ruthlessly eliminate any of your choices that don’t et their approval.
Such terrifying parental love.
User Comments
0 comments from readers