The next day, the weather still showed no sign of clearing. A cold front swept through the streets and alleys of the city, as if searching for a worthy opponent to test its strength.
Early in the morning, Fatty was already waiting downstairs at my building.
I slid into his car and asked, "It's not like we're getting married, so why so early?" The words slipped out before I could stop them, leaving me slightly embarrassed.
Fatty either didn't catch on or chose to ignore my awkwardness. He smiled warmly and said, "Today, I'm your chauffeur and part-time butler. First, breakfast. Then, shopping for clothes and makeup, and finally, the wedding venue. I want everyone to marvel at how stunning and youthful our Yan Yu is. How does that sound?"
"Stunning? Youthful? At my age?" I retorted, though secretly delighted. Fatty, as it turned out, had his moments of charm.
While we shopped for clothes, he received a call. Afterward, he seemed a bit distracted.
"Something at work?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Even if there was, it wouldn't matter. Today, I'm entirely at your service. I made a promise, and I'll keep it."
"If you really have something urgent, we can cancel. There's no need to inconvenience yourself over someone unrelated," I said.
"No, truly. Don't worry about it. Just pick whatever you like—the prettier, the better. And remember, this is my treat. No arguing about it." He crossed his arms and gave me an appraising look. "Yan Yu, you've still got that timeless elegance, really."
"Were you about to say I'm aging gracefully?" I teased.
"You said it, not me!" He grinned mischievously, a rare moment of humor that made me warm to him even more. For a fleeting second, I wondered if I might actually consider being with him someday. But then I remembered how he ate chicken feathers and felt a wave of nausea.
It seemed I shared his late wife's fastidiousness, though perhaps not to the same degree.
"Yan Yu, this dress is perfect for you. Try it on." Fatty held up a short jacket and long skirt, black with deep red floral patterns—sophisticated yet lively. He had surprisingly good taste.
At the register, we nearly argued. Only after I let him pay did he finally smile.
"Believe it or not, this is the first time I've shopped for clothes with a woman or bought any for one," he said as we got back in the car.
"With your sense of style, that's hard to believe," I replied.
"Well, taste doesn't necessarily come from shopping experience," he said. "To be honest, my late wife—if you don't mind me calling her that—never needed me to accompany her. From clothes to household items, she managed everything. I never had to lift a finger. After she passed, I didn't even know where we kept the basics. I was constantly scrambling to figure things out."
"She must have been an amazing wife. You were lucky to have her," I said.
"But if I had you, I'd feel even luckier. Life would feel complete. Really." He paused. "I know it's unfair to say this. I should feel guilty, but it's the truth."
Not wanting to delve further into the topic, I closed my eyes and feigned sleep.
"You must be tired. Rest for a bit; I'll wake you when we get there." His voice was filled with care, as always. Fatty often moved me with his kindness, but could gratitude ever replace love? Could I be with him without love? And what about Yun Ke? Even with love, could we truly be together?
A dull ache crept into my head.