Did My Wife Break Up With Me Today? - Chapter 102

Chapter 102: Extra IF Line — If Kongqing Had Never Lost His Memory

The sound of running water continued to splash. Xu Jingmo stood half-turned, his neck feeling completely stiff. Chen Kongqing held a tissue, gently dabbing at the man’s forehead.

They were so close that every shallow breath was audible. Kongqing bit his lip, finishing with the moisture on Xu Jingmo’s forehead before drying the damp strands of hair at his temples. Xu Jingmo remained as still as a statue.

For some reason, Kongqing let his gaze fall upon the man’s slightly lowered eyes. For a moment, their eyes met. The sound of the water became a blur. Kongqing’s fingertips accidentally brushed against the dampness on Xu Jingmo’s skin—it felt humid and clinging.

This is wrong.

Panicking slightly, he pulled his hand away and averted his eyes. “Okay… it’s done. Hurry up and cook, I’m hungry.” After blurting that out, he turned and fled the cramped kitchen.

Even after escaping, his face remained hot. His heart was pounding faster than usual. He cupped his cheeks in his hands, exhaling sharply. It’s definitely because the kitchen is too small that it feels hot. Yes, that’s it.

Gradually, his heartbeat slowed. He crouched by the Black Cat Sheriff’s bed and started petting the cat to distract himself.

Before long, the delicious aroma of food wafted through the small apartment. Xu Jingmo emerged from the kitchen carrying two dishes, wearing Kongqing’s usual apron. The apron, which usually looked loose on Kongqing, looked a size too small on Xu Jingmo’s broad frame.

Kongqing stood up, pointedly avoiding Xu Jingmo’s gaze. He looked at the table: a plate of tomato and eggs with a rich sauce, and a fresh-looking dish of diced bamboo shoots. They were ingredients he’d forgotten were in his fridge.

“It looks… okay, I guess,” Kongqing muttered, though his mouth was watering.

“I’ll go get the rice.” Despite the lukewarm praise, Xu Jingmo looked happy as he turned back to the kitchen.

This was the first time they had sat across from each other at a dinner table since they were children. Kongqing didn’t say much, but he finished two bowls of rice and cleared both plates. Realizing he might have eaten too much, he tried to cover: “I haven’t eaten all day, so… that’s why I ate so much.”

Xu Jingmo’s immediate reaction was worry. “You haven’t eaten all day? Even if you’re in the lab, you can’t skip meals.”

The post-meal carb fog made Kongqing a bit drowsy. He rested his chin on his palm. “I didn’t have time.”

“Do you always do this?”

“Mhm… mostly. When I’m in a rush, I just eat whatever.” Kongqing’s brain wasn’t fully guarding his words anymore; he answered whatever Xu Jingmo asked.

“I’ll bring you food,” Xu Jingmo said. It wasn’t a question; it was a notification.

“You might just leave again anyway,” Kongqing muttered, his brain slow but his mouth quick.

He brought up the thorn buried in both their hearts. Kongqing froze, licking his lips, unsure how to take it back. But he wasn’t wrong.

The air at the table turned stagnant.

“I’m sorry,” Xu Jingmo said after several seconds of silence. His phoenix eyes locked onto Kongqing’s face. “It was my fault.”

His tone was so sincere that Kongqing didn’t dare meet his gaze.

“I’m not actually angry that you left,” Kongqing whispered after a pause. “You had to go to school. That’s normal. If it were me, I would have gone too. I’m just angry that… for all these years, you never came to find me or contacted me.”

That was the real source of his resentment. It felt like he was the only one who remembered their childhood promise, while Xu Jingmo had cast him to the back of his mind.

“I… it wasn’t that I didn’t look for you, or that I intentionally didn’t contact you,” Xu Jingmo’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I sent postcards to the town every year. When I returned, I went straight there, but you had moved. I couldn’t find you. These past two years since I’ve been back, I’ve been searching for you constantly.”

Kongqing frowned, interrupting. “I did move, but I remember specifically leaving a message on your email. I even borrowed a computer from Xiao Hu next door to send you my new address.”

“Email?” Xu Jingmo’s brow furrowed. “Which email?”

“The one you used back then.” Kongqing was 100% sure he’d sent it—multiple times, in fact.

“I stopped using that email address after I went abroad,” Xu Jingmo said, his expression complex.

Kongqing was stunned. His sleepy brain finally started processing the reality: he had been angry for years over a misunderstanding. Xu Jingmo never got the email, so he never knew the new address. He hadn’t forgotten him.

“So… you didn’t know,” Kongqing said, looking up into those deep eyes. “You didn’t know I moved.”

“I didn’t. But ultimately, it was still my failure,” Xu Jingmo replied, his hands clasped on the table.

“So… you never forgot me, right?” His heart began to drum.

“Of course I never forgot you. I’ve been looking for you, Xia—” He stopped himself, remembering Kongqing’s earlier rule.

…

The silence returned, save for the scratching of the Black Cat Sheriff on his scratching post. To Kongqing, the rhythm felt strangely light. He licked his lips. “You… you can call me that if you want.”

And just like that, Xu Jingmo started calling him “Xiaoman” again. The awkwardness dissolved because it had all been a misunderstanding. Xu Jingmo had always remembered him. That was enough.

But as they settled back into a friendly dynamic, Kongqing felt a new kind of tension. He couldn’t call Xu Jingmo “Gege” (big brother) anymore, and he couldn’t handle physical contact the way he used to. He told himself it was just because he was grown up now. But while he could easily throw an arm around a roommate’s shoulder, he couldn’t do that with Xu Jingmo. Being near him made his breathing erratic. The faint scent of tea on Xu Jingmo’s skin made his ears burn.

Kongqing realized, with a shock he had to process for a long time, that he was in love with Xu Jingmo.

One Saturday, they met up for roasted lamb chops with some of Xu Jingmo’s friends. Amid the laughing and gossip, Kongqing caught a piece of information that shattered his composure: Xu Jingmo liked men.

He had assumed Xu Jingmo was straight and would eventually marry a woman, so he had planned to keep his feelings buried forever. But now…

“Jingmo, you really have no feelings for Junior Wu?” Zhou Mujun gossiped. “He’s so talented and has been chasing you for years.”

“Yeah, are you faking being gay?” Jiang Jun joked.

Xu Jingmo ignored them, placing another lamb chop on Kongqing’s plate. “Why aren’t you eating?”

After the meal, Xu Jingmo walked Kongqing back toward his apartment. They stopped under a large maple tree. The August night air was sweltering.

“Do you really like… men?” Kongqing asked, rubbing his knuckles nervously.

“Would you find it strange if I did?” Xu Jingmo’s expression tightened.

“I…” Kongqing squeezed his knuckles harder. Strange? I’m the one who’s strange. He took a deep breath. “Then do you like that Junior Wu?”

Xu Jingmo looked stunned, then answered decisively: “No. They just like to joke.”

Kongqing stepped closer. He could hear the man’s shallow breathing. “Then… can you like me?”

Xu Jingmo looked like he was doubting his own hearing. “What?”

“I think I like you, Xu Jingmo. So, I want to ask if you’re willing to like me back.” Kongqing felt like he had used up twenty years of courage in that one sentence.

Xu Jingmo looked away. “Xiaoman, did you drink tonight?”

“I didn’t drink. I’m perfectly sober,” Kongqing said, his heart sinking. This is worse than a direct rejection. “I’m very clear-headed, Xu Jingmo. You just need to tell me if you’re willing or not.”

Xu Jingmo didn’t look at him. “I’m your brother, Xiaoman. I can’t say I like you, and I can’t say I don’t.”

Kongqing’s heart leaped. “So… you do like me?”