Did My Wife Break Up With Me Today? - Chapter 103

Chapter 103: Extra IF Line (End) — If Kongqing Had Never Lost His Memory

Silence fell over them once more.

Chen Kongqing kept his chin tilted high, staring fixedly at Xu Jingmo. He refused to look away until he got an answer.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” His hands were clenched so tightly that his palms were slick with sweat.

Xu Jingmo didn’t dare meet those honest eyes. His gaze remained anchored to the dry pavement. A night breeze swept past, carrying a few dark green leaves between them.

“Xiaoman, I am your brother.” Xu Jingmo knew this was the only thing he could allow himself to say.

Hearing those words, Chen Kongqing suddenly relaxed his grip. The damp sweat on his palms was gradually whisked away by the wind, but the deep red crescent marks left by his fingernails remained vivid.

“Xu Jingmo, you’re a coward.” Having said his piece, Kongqing turned around and walked away without looking back.

He heard Xu Jingmo following him. He stopped abruptly—not out of a tantrum, but with a quiet, heavy tone: “You don’t need to walk me. I can get back by myself.”

He continued walking. But he could feel Xu Jingmo behind him, their footsteps almost overlapping in rhythm. Kongqing frowned and looked back one last time. “I want to be alone for a while.”

This time, Xu Jingmo finally stopped. His eyes, however, never left Kongqing’s silhouette. He was a coward. He admitted it to himself. Only when looking at Kongqing’s back did he dare to be so blatant with his longing.

…

For the next few days, Kongqing felt like he was living in a trance. He couldn’t accept that Xu Jingmo used “being brothers” as a reason to reject him. If Xu Jingmo simply didn’t like him, he could accept that. But he couldn’t accept rejection born out of cowardice and weakness.

Xu Jingmo still sent him messages, though less frequently. Kongqing replied, but the timing was sluggish. Their relationship had turned into something awkward—saying nothing felt intentional, but saying too much felt like flirting.

Looking at their clinical chat logs, Kongqing began to think: Maybe he really doesn’t like me. Maybe he’s just being polite to avoid hurting my feelings. If Xu Jingmo liked him even a little, how could he resist messaging him? Kongqing himself found it agonizingly difficult to hold back.

That Saturday, Kongqing decided he couldn’t take the suffocating feeling anymore. He called Gao Tianyou to organize a night of drinking. Usually, Kongqing avoided these parties because he was a lightweight, but today he needed an outlet.

At the KTV, Kongqing drank steadily and silently.

“Hey, Zhang Cheng heard you were here and insisted on coming,” Gao Tianyou whispered to him. “I didn’t have the heart to say no.”

Kongqing downed another half-glass of beer. Zhang Cheng was the president of their debate club; he was a nice guy and had pursued Kongqing once. Kongqing didn’t dislike him; he just didn’t feel “that way” about him. “Let him come,” Kongqing muttered.

He didn’t care if Zhang Cheng came. His mind was entirely occupied by one name: Xu Jingmo.

As the night went on, the games became more intense. Kongqing grew increasingly dizzy. Zhang Cheng, worried, tried to intervene: “Kongqing, you’ve had enough. You’ll feel terrible tomorrow.”

Kongqing felt like the bones in his arms had been removed. Holding a glass was a struggle, but he insisted on one last drink. He didn’t notice the several missed calls vibrating in his pocket.

After the party, Zhang Cheng, who already had a car, offered to drive the intoxicated Kongqing home. Gao Tianyou settled him into the passenger seat and gave Zhang Cheng the address.

When they arrived at the apartment building, Zhang Cheng got out to help. Kongqing stumbled as he stepped out of the car, his legs like jelly.

“I’m not comfortable leaving you like this. Let me help you up,” Zhang Cheng said politely.

“Thanks, President…” Kongqing didn’t refuse. The apartment was on the fifth floor; if he tripped now, there’d be no one to feed the Black Cat Sheriff.

Zhang Cheng kept a respectful distance but placed a steadying arm around Kongqing’s waist to guide him up the narrow stairs. As they neared the fifth floor, Zhang Cheng felt a sudden chill. It felt as if someone had turned on a high-powered air conditioner.

He looked up. In the dim light of the hallway, he met a pair of dark, freezing eyes.

A tall man, nearly as high as the doorframe, stood outside the apartment. He began walking down the steps toward them, one deliberate pace at a time. It was Xu Jingmo, dressed in a formal polo shirt as if he’d just come from a conference.

The three met on the stairs. Silence reigned, broken only by heavy breathing. Xu Jingmo’s eyes dropped to Zhang Cheng’s hand, which was wrapped around Kongqing’s waist.

Zhang Cheng felt his hand burn as if pricked by needles. He instinctively wanted to let go, but forced himself to maintain his stance.

“Thank you for bringing him back,” Xu Jingmo said coldly, though his eyes never left Kongqing.

Before anyone could react, Xu Jingmo grabbed Kongqing’s hand and hooked an arm around his waist, literally lifting him up to the next step. Zhang Cheng’s hands were suddenly empty.

“Who are you?” Zhang Cheng asked, frowning.

“Kongqing is unwell, let him go,” Zhang Cheng added, reaching out.

“He’s drunk. I will take care of him,” Xu Jingmo snapped. A single look from him made Zhang Cheng freeze.

“Kongqing, do you know him?” Zhang Cheng asked.

Kongqing felt humiliated being handled like a sack of potatoes, and he was still furious with Xu Jingmo. He tried to struggle, but Xu Jingmo’s grip was absolute.

Xu Jingmo pulled a key from his pocket—the key Kongqing had forgotten to take back—and opened the door.

“He’s just throwing a tantrum,” Xu Jingmo looked back at Zhang Cheng once before pulling Kongqing inside.

Bang. The door slammed shut.

…

Inside, Xu Jingmo pressed Kongqing against the shoe cabinet to change his shoes. Kongqing, fueled by alcohol and spite, kicked out at him.

“Let go of me! Give me back my keys!” Kongqing’s face was flushed.

Xu Jingmo remained eerily calm, but it was a cold, suffocating calmness. He caught Kongqing’s ankle, his hand sliding upward. The touch felt like fire against Kongqing’s skin.

Xu Jingmo picked him up and carried him to the small sofa. He pinned Kongqing down, refusing to let him move.

“You said you didn’t like me! If you don’t like me, stay away!” Kongqing struggled.

“Who was that man?” Xu Jingmo ignored the insult.

“None of your business! I wasn’t finished drinking or having fun, let me go!”

Xu Jingmo’s face turned into a mask of ice. He gripped Kongqing’s jaw. “You like to play? Then I’ll play with you.”

The next second, their lips met. It was soft, cold, and sudden. Kongqing’s eyes went wide. Before he could process the shock, Xu Jingmo’s tongue forced its way in. It was a hungry, predatory kiss. The sound of shifting lips and the scent of tea and alcohol mingled in the small room.

Kongqing felt his oxygen running out. He let out a muffled moan as Xu Jingmo’s hand slid under his shirt.

“Mmm…” Kongqing pushed at his shoulders. He couldn’t believe this was the same “brother” he knew. This man was fierce.

Finally, Xu Jingmo pulled back slightly, though he kept his teeth grazing Kongqing’s bottom lip. Kongqing gasped for air.

“You don’t like me, so why are you kissing me?” Kongqing’s eyes were misty with tears of confusion.

“And you say you like me, so why did you let him hold your waist?” As if for punishment, Xu Jingmo squeezed his waist hard.

“If you don’t like me, why should I keep liking you?” Kongqing shouted, his voice cracking. “I’m going to go like someone else! I’ve gotten used to life without you. You only came back to torture me! I don’t want to love you anymore!”

Two tears rolled down his cheeks. Xu Jingmo’s breath hitched.

“I hate you,” Kongqing sobbed. “You don’t like me at all, but you treat me like this.”

Xu Jingmo leaned down, kissing away the tear tracks. His voice was raw and hoarse. “I love you.”

Kongqing froze. His heart skipped several beats. “Are you serious? Or just saying it to quiet me…”

“I’m serious,” Xu Jingmo whispered, rubbing his cheek against Kongqing’s. “I love you, Chen Kongqing. I know I’m crazy.”

Kongqing could hear the trembling in Xu Jingmo’s voice—even more than his own. He felt the bitterness and the suppressed longing behind it.

“Then I’ll be crazy with you,” Kongqing whispered back, reaching up to pull Xu Jingmo back into a kiss.

…

After the long, intense kiss, Kongqing lay exhausted in Xu Jingmo’s arms. “I remember everything,” he muttered. “Don’t you dare try to take it back later.”

“I won’t,” Xu Jingmo smiled, kissing the crown of his head. “Are you sure, Xiaoman? About being with me?”

“I’ve been sure for a long time.”

“I’m older than you. I’m your brother,” Xu Jingmo reminded him one last time, trying to fulfill his final duty as a guardian. “Are you sure it’s love, and not just reliance?”

Kongqing frowned. “I love you because it’s you, not because you’re a ‘brother.’ Besides, you’re not my real brother anyway.”

“I’m just worried you’ll regret it.”

Kongqing bit his lip. “Then what about you? How do you know your feelings aren’t just for a ‘younger brother’?”

Xu Jingmo’s Adam’s apple moved. “I know. Because I wouldn’t do this to a brother.”

Kongqing felt something hard and warm pressing against him. His face turned bright red, and he tried to scramble away. “You…!”

Xu Jingmo just looked at him with those intense eyes. Blushing furiously, Kongqing dove back into Xu Jingmo’s chest to hide. “I’ll let you do it to me… but brothers definitely can’t do that.”

…

Months later, Chen Kongqing deeply regretted those words. Xu Jingmo had revealed his “true colors,” finding all sorts of ways to… play.

“I’m your brother! How can you do this to your brother?” Kongqing turned his head, trying to look at the man behind him.

Xu Jingmo lifted the short skirt Kongqing was wearing and delivered a sharp smack to his thigh. Kongqing’s legs trembled, nearly giving out.

“You said I could, baby,” Xu Jingmo whispered, nipping at his ear.

In the haze of sleep and waking, Kongqing sometimes dreamed of the days Xu Jingmo wasn’t there. When he woke up in a cold sweat, the hollow feeling would vanish the moment he felt Xu Jingmo’s warm chest beside him.

“Awake? It’s early, want some water?” Xu Jingmo murmured, letting Kongqing cling to him.

“No…” Kongqing buried his face in Xu Jingmo’s chest, draping a leg over him. “Just stay with me… forever.”

Xu Jingmo stroked his hair. “I will. Always.”

As the morning sun filtered through the curtains, Kongqing knew that this would be his reality every single day.