Two weeks passed after that realisation, and Gu Xiao was even more cautious about his actions around Lan Yuning.
When Gu Xiao and Gu Heiyu's father headed home after finishing his night shift in the supermarket, it was already four in the morning.
If his memory was correct, the two should be asleep, considering that Gu Xiao always slept at exactly 3:30AM and Gu Heiyu at 12:05AM.
Their father reached for the doorknob and realised how loose it had become. Even the door was filled with so many cracks and wasn't hanging on stably.
Compared to the other houses on the street, there were chips in their windowsills, their grass was overgrown, and the paint was scratching off.
"I should buy materials to fix this," he mumbled.
Quietly entering, he ensured his footsteps were light, and he went to the kitchen for a drink. Something caught the corner of his eyes when he threw the empty bottle in the trash.
He picked the piece of scrunched paper from the floor and was about to throw it away until he read the first few lines. And all he could do, after reading the note, was let out a deep sigh of helplessness.
Regret. Shame. Guilt. There wasn't anything he could do as a father.
He had failed.
He had made too many mistakes that it was too late to fix.
What right did he have to ask Gu Xiao about how school was going? Or ask Gu Heiyu whether her part-time job was paying her well?
He had paid off most of his debt, and this accomplishment was something he wanted to share with Gu Xiao and Gu Heiyu. But when he thought about it, were there any fathers living in this world that would go to their children after forcing them to tread through so much suffering, 'I have nearly paid off my debt,' with such happiness?
He wanted to tell them, but bringing it up only led to more disappointment, as it was a reminder of how much he had failed them.
It wasn't only a reminder to them, but to him too. The money that was supposed to be used to support his children was being used to pay off his mistakes.
If he didn't lose his way and indulge in gambling and alcohol, or even getting scammed and bankrupt, then maybe he could've bought nicer clothes, better food, or better furniture.
Yet, he had headed down this path for too long, that turning the other way didn't seem like an option anymore.
He grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. Pouring everything he had left of himself, he wrote a long letter.
The only words that filled the early morning while the neighbourhood was fast asleep were the hoarse voice of the lonely man in the kitchen.
"I'm sorry."
He couldn't even tell his children about how he had nearly cleared all his debts, because what would they think if they heard he was also planning to move to the United Kingdom?