#Heartbreak #ThirdParty #BadEnding #ModernEra #Romance
Zhou Yuhang, you are getting married tomorrow.
When you announced your wedding in our high school group, Fatty's comment, "How come Chu Siqiao didn't mention it?" made me tear up again.
I've loved you for twelve years. It's been 207 days since we broke up, and now you're getting married.
I've loved you for twelve years. I still remember the first time I saw you—I was fifteen years old.
You had transferred to our school, and I heard it was because you got into a fight and were expelled from your previous school.
It was a day in April, still a bit cool in Changchun, but when you appeared at the classroom door, the sunlight was especially bright.
I saw the gentle spring breeze ruffle your bangs, and in that moment, you stirred my heart.
You were the type of boy girls easily liked—tall, fair-skinned, with well-shaped eyebrows, and single eyelids that held the cleanest lakes in the world.
Even though you continued skipping school and causing trouble after transferring—like putting spiders in the bag of the chemistry teacher you hated—it didn't lessen my growing affection for you.
I saw you help a scavenging old lady pick up bottles, watched you save your breakfast to feed stray cats, and witnessed the embarrassment and blush on your face when you confessed to the class beauty and got rejected.
After seeing that, I felt a bit guilty. For the next week, every time I collected your English homework, I hoped to do it as quickly as possible.
One time, you pretended to search your bag, and I secretly watched you from the side.
When you lowered your head, the bone at the back of your neck protruded noticeably—it's called a "suanpan bead."
You were too thin. I thought that if I had the chance, I would feed you until you were nice and chubby.
The thought startled me, and just then, you looked up and said, "Dear class representative, could you not mark me down this time?"
You were slick with your words, but I liked it, even though I didn't show it.
You suddenly tugged on my sleeve and said, "Sister Qiao, please spare me this once."
I couldn't handle such a situation, so I blushed, nodded in agreement, and fled.
I guess you had already figured out my feelings, so when you confessed to me on that rainy day, you were confident of the outcome.
In middle school, there was a long corridor between the teaching building and the parking lot, and summer rainstorms often made the sky dark quickly.
When I stood in the corridor, unsure of what to do because I didn't have an umbrella, you suddenly appeared in the rain, holding one.
You stood at the bottom of the steps at the end of the corridor, in the light and rain, and I was drawn to you, walking towards you as if under a spell.
"Sister Qiao, if you use my umbrella, you'll have to marry me."
That day, the rain soaked half of your shoulder, but I didn't get wet at all, and my heart felt so warm.
Even though you always joked around, after we started dating, you treated me so well. You would tie my shoelaces for me without hesitation on the street, and you would travel far just to buy me mango mousse.
Like in every story, when the teacher called our names one after the other, the whole class would make a sound;
During boring classes, we passed notes across several rows, and you even bought snacks to bribe the students in between;
We also agreed to take the provincial entrance exams together. Every day after school, I helped you with English, and you helped me with math and science.
After being with me, you started studying hard. Every time you got full marks on a dictation, you would ask for a kiss. You would shout my name after scoring a goal and would playfully tap my left shoulder, then wait for me to turn to the right where your lips were.
In those tender and wonderful years, you gave me countless heart-fluttering and unforgettable memories.
When we took the entrance exams, you, as an athlete, and I both got into the provincial key school. I was so happy and proud. Although athletes often had many female admirers, you always kept your distance from other girls.
Your social media status always showed that you had a girlfriend, and your profile picture was of my back.
It was during our exam training that you supervised my running on the track. At dusk, you called my name, then clicked the camera to capture my smile and flying ponytail. You said I was more beautiful than the sunset.
I liked quiet; you liked activity. But that didn't affect our love throughout high school.
And now, this new bride of yours—what kind of girl is she?
I've loved you for twelve years, and I know all your secrets.
You fought and skipped school to get your parents' attention. They were always separated because of their business, and their relationship was strained, leaving you with little care.
You once said that whenever a teacher called for your parents, you secretly felt happy. When you said that, I couldn't help but cry from the pain in my heart.
At that time, I thought I would give you all my warmth, to make up for what the world had deprived you of.
But in our third year of high school, your parents still got divorced.
Your temper became unpredictable, and you started thinking about dropping out of school. When I tried to remind you of our promise to go to college together, you even argued with me.
We often quarreled, and it wasn't unusual for us to break up over disagreements. But that time, you seriously said you were afraid you couldn't make me happy because no one had taught you how to be a good husband or a good father.
You started worrying about that at eighteen.
But how could that be? You were so, so good to me. Besides, happiness doesn't follow a one-size-fits-all template. Isn't it something we figure out together?
As long as we have a heart willing to accompany each other, how could we not be happy?
After we graduated from high school, we went on a trip together. It's said that this is the best way to test if a couple is compatible, and you passed with flying colors.
Although you wanted to visit Shanghai to see the bustling city, you followed my wishes and went to Yunnan instead.
We didn't join a tour group; you took care of everything—planning the routes, booking hotels, carrying the luggage, and even taking beautiful photos of me. You never showed any sign of impatience.
Even though we stayed in a room with a big bed, you just held me in your arms without making a move.
When you bit my ear and said, "I'll deal with you properly after we get married," I really started imagining our wedding.
See how ironic that is?
When we returned, I received an admission letter from Xi'an.
I asked if you got into a university, and your tone was heavy on the phone. You said we should talk in person.
On my way to meet you, I had prepared for everything—I was ready for a long battle, even thinking about how to save money for a long-distance relationship.
Anyway, we were going to get married, so I wasn't afraid of long-distance.
"Sister Qiao—" You dragged out the syllables of my name, and I knew everything was clear. I even started imagining how enviable a love that blossomed from school uniforms to wedding dresses would be.
The day before I went to register, your mother held my hand and said that I had been with you for so long that she only recognized me as her daughter-in-law. She also told you not to bully me.
But Zhou Yuhang, this time, you didn't listen to your mother.
It's really so ironic.
In college, you naturally became the center of attention, and that was something you enjoyed. I was genuinely happy for you.
You weren't shy about showing off our love. You arranged heart-shaped candles outside my dorm, and after winning a basketball championship, you confessed your love to me in front of the teachers.
You still bought me mango mousse, and you still tied my shoelaces. I felt both joy and pride.
"Zhou Yuhang and Chu Siqiao have been together since middle school," gossip like that made us quite popular on campus.
People tend to believe that long-lasting relationships are "stable," and at first, I believed it too.
A girl from the broadcasting department pursued you. All the girls in her college were not only stunningly beautiful but also had sweet, charming voices—undeniably attractive.
Someone told me they saw you two shopping at a bookstore together. I pretended to be indifferent and even faked confidence, but I knew I was panicking inside.
That night, when you came to see me, I was in a low mood and didn't pay much attention to you.
Then you got a phone call, and my instincts told me it was from that girl.
I snatched the phone and yelled, "Can you stop bothering someone else's boyfriend!"
I admit it was wrong to do that. It was out of character for me, something I used to despise.
But suspicion really does make a person ugly.
You yelled back at me, "Are you crazy?"
In that moment, my heart went cold. It was the first time you yelled at me to defend another girl.
Zhou Yuhang, have you ever considered things from my perspective? You were so prominent and successful—how could I not worry?
When other women openly pursue your boyfriend, am I supposed to just ignore it?
Later, you gave me a rare foreign novel. You said the last time you went to the bookstore, it was to find that book for me. You also said it was your way of putting that girl in her place.
Oh, you're kind-hearted. You thought you should protect that girl's dignity because there's nothing wrong with liking someone.
I've loved you for twelve years, and we've finally hit a rough patch.
In our third year of college, I moved into your rented apartment off-campus.
We went shopping together, buying couple sets of towels, toothbrushes, and slippers.
Seeing them neatly arranged in the room somehow made me feel more at ease.
We shopped for groceries, cooked together, did laundry, and cleaned the room. You often complained about my hair shedding everywhere, while I grumbled about your habit of stuffing your smelly socks into the sofa. This noisy yet carefree cohabitation was truly joyful at first.
That summer, your father remarried.
A few months later, your mother passed away from illness, which dealt a heavy blow to you, and you lost a lot of weight.
I didn't know how to comfort you, but I still held on to that gentle dream—to give you all my warmth to make up for what the world had taken from you.
During the most unstable period of your emotions, we had our first time together.
You kissed away my tears and whispered "I love you" in my ear repeatedly. I believe you truly loved me at that moment.
It was just like we had planned to wait until after marriage, but I never imagined that in the end, you wouldn't marry me.
At that moment, you said you loved me, but I bet you never expected that one day you'd stop loving me just as easily.
In our final year, you started an internship at an advertising company and became extremely busy. That was the beginning of our conflicts.
You were so busy that you didn't have time to eat the breakfast I had spent a long time preparing, or to keep our weekly movie night date, or even to enjoy your meals without rushing. You were always distracted when watching movies with me.
But I understood. I knew you were working hard for us, that you wanted to settle down in this city as soon as possible, that you wanted to give me a home.
At least, that's what your promises said.
But Zhou Yuhang, you still hadn't learned to see things from my perspective.
You didn't know that looking through our old photos made me cry. You surely couldn't remember how long it had been since we last went out for fun.
You didn't know that every night while waiting for you to come home, I kept reheating the food over and over, afraid it would get cold before you arrived.
But you often went straight to bed without even noticing the joy in my eyes, or the deeper disappointment.
Gradually, you started coming home later and later, and eventually, I even caught the scent of another woman's perfume on you.
Once, while you were showering, I went through your phone. Although I found nothing incriminating, it left me more depressed than if I had.
Because of you, I had turned into the kind of woman I used to despise.
But even if I had found something, I couldn't bear to break up with you.
During that time, we also lost a child.
When I found out I was pregnant, my first reaction wasn't joy, but panic.
I was afraid you wouldn't want the baby, and even more afraid that we couldn't give the baby a happy life.
After the surgery, I sat on a hospital bench waiting for you to pick me up, feeling an excruciating pain in a part of my body.
What made me sad wasn't the removal of that fertilized egg, but the realization that we could never go back to what we once were.
You came, standing at the end of the corridor, just like you had when you were fifteen. Your steps were heavy.
I suddenly realized that it had been ten years, and even the once-spirited you could become so weary.
You held me and started to cry, then you placed your hand on my stomach and said, "Baby, I'm sorry. You came at the wrong time. Right now, your mom and dad aren't able to give you happiness. Please forgive Daddy, okay… Next time you come, Daddy will make sure to buy a big house to welcome you…"
But there would be no next time; once missed, it's gone forever.
Zhou Yuhang, tell me, why couldn't we have just gotten married back then?
I've loved you for twelve years. That's too long—maybe it's time to take a break.
Another year passed, and when spring came, your father called to gather both our families to discuss our marriage.
I thought you had reconciled with him. I thought you were aware of this plan.
You followed me back to Changchun, but when you realized your father's intention, you flipped the table and dragged me out.
On the way back to Xi'an, I cried nonstop. I couldn't understand why you reacted like that. You lost your temper in front of my parents over marrying me—how could I marry you after that?
Or maybe, you had long decided not to marry me?
After we returned, you started staying out all night again.
One night, I got up to use the bathroom and saw you sitting on the sofa smoking. I was startled and screamed, then I started crying again.
You were probably tired of my tears. You said, "Xiao Qiao, I always thought you understood me, that you could see things from my perspective, but you're just like my dad."
"I'm working so hard outside, with so much pressure from back home, and now you're pushing me to get married… I have nothing, how can I get married!"
Pushing you to get married?
So that's what you think—me wanting to marry the person I love is just me being pushy?
I packed my things and went back to Changchun. But you didn't even call to ask me to stay.
Half a month later, you called and said you'd been promoted to department manager and had made a down payment on a new house. You wanted me to come back.
You said just a little longer, and then we could get married.
I didn't respond on the phone.
But around midnight, you called again, asking me to open the curtains.
Just like many years ago, you stood outside my building, holding up the phone with a big smile.
I know that no drop of wine can ever return to the grape it once was, but I couldn't let you go—I really couldn't—so I came back to you, even feeling like I had been unreasonable before.
In a relationship, a woman's biggest failure is that her love for the other person makes her doubt herself.
The next six months were uneventful. We shopped for furniture and decorated our new home together.
I thought our love had come back to life. I was even imagining us transitioning from lovers to family, filled with anticipation.
But then one day, while doing your laundry, I found an opened pack of Durex in your suit pocket. It was a bright, sunny day in May, but my world suddenly went dark.
Zhou Yuhang, were you just careless, or too caught up in the moment?
But I didn't want to start a fight like some shrew, because it wouldn't change anything. Because once trust is broken, it can never be mended.
Still, I was heartbroken. I kept wishing you could tell me, like when we were in college, that it was a misunderstanding when we went to the bookstore together. I wished you could tell me that the lipstick on your collar and the Durex were just for show.
But what kind of performance takes you to bed? Perhaps the promises you made to me were just empty words.
I've loved you for twelve years, and now, I'm tired.
The days of sharing a bed but dreaming different dreams have worn me out. When you wanted to be close, you'd hug me from behind and ask why I had lost weight again.
I didn't know how to respond. I kissed you, but I cried hard.
I couldn't understand how the once stubborn and principled boy had become so full of lies.
The day we finally tore everything apart arrived.
I was on a business trip to Shanghai, but at the airport, I realized I had forgotten an important document. I returned home unexpectedly, and that scene crashed into my vision without warning.
Zhou Yuhang, you actually brought another woman into our home, letting her lie in our bed, sleeping with my man.
I quietly left the house and submitted my resignation to the company.
When I returned that afternoon, the sheets had been changed, and you had made a table full of dishes, dressed in casual clothes, watering the flowers.
That scene made me think that just a few hours ago, I wasn't a pitiful wife catching her husband in bed with someone else, but just someone who had gone downstairs to buy a bottle of chili sauce.
You didn't know that it had been a long time since you last cooked.
Back in our third year of college, you used to complain about my cooking, saying you wanted to take good care of me.
But now, you probably don't care about me at all, do you?
I walked up to you, hugged you, and said, "Let's break up, I'm tired."
You said, "Okay."
The memories rushed through my mind, competing to resurface…
The first time I saw you, standing rebelliously at the doorway; when you tugged at my sleeve, calling me "Sister Xiao Qiao"; when you stood in the rain, watching me walk toward you step by step;
when you bravely confessed to me during the basketball game; when you whispered that you loved me; when you cried over our baby…
You said you would show me around Chang'an properly, but this city, I will never go near it again.
After we broke up, I returned to Changchun, busy finding a job and a place to live. I tried hard to suppress my thoughts of you. When I couldn't hold back, I would dunk my face in water, sometimes even thinking, "Maybe I should just suffocate like this. After all, I've already lost you."
What I lost was a long youth, a heart that loved deeply, the man I once so desperately wanted to marry—Zhou Yuhang.
Zhou Yuhang, even now, I still can't forget you. What should I do?
You're 188 cm tall, weigh 146 pounds, and wear size 43 shoes. Your birthday is October 30th.
You have single eyelids, a dimple in your right cheek when you smile, a small scar on your left eyebrow, and moles behind your ear and on your lower back.
Your favorite author is Hemingway, you love peanut butter, and anything with cheese.
You use green tea-scented body wash, even though later your body was constantly covered in the scent of other women.
You always thought lighting candles was romantic, even though the Zhou Yuhang who lit candles for me under the dorm building is long gone.
When you made tomato and egg stir-fry, you'd always add the eggs first, then the tomatoes. And every time you showered, you'd sing loudly.
You used to say that our future child would surely inherit your golden voice, but unfortunately, there's no chance now.
Zhou Yuhang, we were once so in love, how did it end up like this?
You probably don't know how I survived that first month. I felt like the whole world had wronged me, that even when a hanger fell while I was hanging clothes, I would cry for half a day.
Do you still remember my biggest dream? I said I wanted to give you all my warmth to make up for what the world had owed you.
But how do you plan to make up for what you owe me?
I've loved you for twelve years, and it seems this is as far as it can go.
I heard you've returned to Changchun, and the heart I worked so hard to mend has started crumpling with tears again.
This city is so small. You wouldn't know, but I've seen you several times.
The most recent was at a bedding store. You were probably with your bride-to-be, setting up your new home, right?
I don't know what you whispered in her ear, but she blushed and smiled.
Zhou Yuhang, what kind of girl is she, the one who has captivated you so much that you decided to marry her just six months after our breakup?
She surely didn't pressure you into marriage, right? You must love her enough.
Your high school buddies approached me, asking if I wanted to crash your wedding, but I don't even have the courage to attend your wedding, let alone do something that would put you in a difficult position.
They say they don't understand why we broke up. Honestly, I don't know what went wrong either.
Can someone who gets you drunk also safely take you home? How can people who weathered storms together part ways on a sunny day?
Zhou Yuhang, why did you stop loving me?
At every wedding, the bride and groom tearfully vow their love, and no one doubts their sincerity at that moment.
But who knows the story that led up to it?
Life is deep and complex like this. After all the sails have passed, we start to understand everything, and yet, we can't believe anything anymore.
Author's Note:
This story was something I heard on the radio, and the landmarks and time periods are real.
What saddens me is that there are truly so many instances of unfulfilled love and broken promises in this world.
Though I've never experienced a heart-wrenching love myself, I hope that everyone who reads this, if you have a deep and meaningful relationship, will cherish it even more.
Love has the power to rejuvenate, but it also has the power to destroy a person.