I Promise to Walk With You for Half of my Life’s Journey - Chapter 18

By the end of June, the final exams quickly arrived. When she wrote her name on the last answer sheet, the knot in her heart finally loosened.

Cheng Sutong immediately rushed out of the classroom to head home and freshen up. She picked up her phone and sent a text to An Chuxin: “Teacher An, can we talk?”

When An Chuxin saw the message, her heart constricted sharply. She recognized the “burn-the-boats” courage of a young girl. This girl was gathering every ounce of her bravery to extend an invitation, and An Chuxin knew she had to refuse.

“Cheng Sutong, there is nothing for us to talk about,” she replied.

Cheng Sutong’s expression instantly soured upon seeing the reply, but she pressed further: “Then tonight at 7:00 PM, at the cafe by the school’s back gate.”

Cheng Sutong stared at that message and read it three times to ensure she had not misread it. Her heart began to race. She leaned against a railing and took deep breaths, trying to calm herself. Then, she replied: “Okay.”

That one word took all the courage she possessed.

The cafe was quiet, with soothing jazz playing in the corner. An Chuxin sat in the innermost booth with a cup of cold Americano sitting before her. When Cheng Sutong walked in, An Chuxin looked up. Their eyes collided in mid-air before quickly darting away.

“Sit,” An Chuxin said.

Cheng Sutong sat opposite her, hands twisting together in her lap. When the waiter approached, she ordered a glass of hot milk. Drinking coffee at night would interfere with her sleep, which was a detail An Chuxin had once reminded her of. After the waiter left, an awkward silence fell between them, filled only by the music drifting through the air.

The milk arrived, and Cheng Sutong took small sips. The warm liquid sliding down her throat slightly eased her tension. An Chuxin looked up at her. The dim, yellow light of the cafe cast soft shadows across her face, making her look gentler than usual but also more exhausted.

“Let’s talk about us,” An Chuxin said, her voice steady.

Cheng Sutong’s heart skipped a beat.

“Cheng Sutong,” An Chuxin continued, speaking each word slowly and clearly. “I like you.”

These words stirred a massive wave in Cheng Sutong’s heart. She stared at An Chuxin with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“This is not the liking a teacher has for a student,” An Chuxin added. “It is the love of one woman for another.”

She looked at An Chuxin and saw the undisguised emotion surging in those eyes that were usually so calm and self-controlled. It was love; it was naked, real, and undeniable. Tears welled up without warning. Cheng Sutong lowered her head because she did not want An Chuxin to see her crying.

“I know this is inappropriate and that it should not be,” An Chuxin’s voice continued. “I know what stands between us: age, status, social rules, your father’s expectations, your future, and the burden of my mother.”

With every item she listed, Cheng Sutong’s heart sank further.

“I also know that if I do not say it now, I might never have the chance again. You are about to enter your senior year, and you need to prepare for the college entrance exam. You are so young, radiant, and bright. You must be responsible for your own life, so you do not need to stop for me. Furthermore, you are still young; you cannot yet distinguish between dependency and love.”

Cheng Sutong’s heart sank to the bottom.

“So,” An Chuxin looked at her, “I am telling you how I feel. Then, we must return to our respective places.”

“What do you mean?”

“It means,” An Chuxin said, emphasizing every word, “I love you, but I cannot love you. I cannot now, and perhaps I never can.”

The cafe music changed to Fly Me to the Moon. The romantic melody flowed through the air like a cruel irony. Cheng Sutong’s tears finally fell, hitting the table and blooming into small, dark spots.

“Why?” she choked out. “Why tell me? If we cannot be together, why let me know?”

“Because I do not want to have regrets.” An Chuxin’s eyes were also red, but she forced herself not to cry. “I do not want to look back on this time years from now and regret not having the courage to admit this feeling. Nor do I want you, a long time from now, to doubt whether you were ever truly loved.”

She reached out as if to touch Cheng Sutong’s hand but stopped mid-air, finally just resting her hand lightly on the table.

“Cheng Sutong, you deserve to be loved. You deserve to be seriously and purely loved. Even if that person cannot be me, and even if we are destined to part, I want you to know that you were once loved like this.”

Cheng Sutong closed her eyes, her shoulders trembling violently. An Chuxin looked at her and desperately wanted to hold her, to comfort her, and to tell her everything would be fine. However, she could not. She knew that a hug would lead to deeper pain and that hope would lead to greater despair.

“I have one year left until graduation,” Cheng Sutong suddenly looked up, her eyes misty with tears. “When I graduate and when I am an adult, can we then…”

“After graduation, you will go to university,” An Chuxin interrupted. “You will go to a better city, meet better people, and start a brand-new life. And I will stay here alone, continuing to be an ordinary high school teacher.”

She looked at Cheng Sutong with eyes full of longing yet perfectly clear-headed.

“Our life trajectories are destined to stretch in different directions. Even if we forced them to intersect, it would only cause each other more pain.”

“I am not afraid of pain,” Cheng Sutong said. “I can wait, and I can bear it with you.”

“But I am afraid.” Tears finally escaped An Chuxin’s eyes. “I am afraid you will give up a better future for me. I am afraid I will hold you back. I am afraid that one day you will regret it and you will hate me.”

She wiped away her tears, struggling to maintain a calm expression.

“Cheng Sutong, loving someone does not mean you have to possess them. Sometimes, letting go is the greatest form of love.”

This sentence completely broke Cheng Sutong. An Chuxin sat opposite her, watching her cry while she herself was bathed in tears. She did not move or offer comfort; she simply sat quietly, accompanying her through this heart-wrenching goodbye. Other customers in the cafe cast curious glances, but they did not care.

After a long time, Cheng Sutong’s sobbing subsided. She looked up with red, swollen eyes and a face streaked with tears.

“Teacher An,” she said softly, “if these obstacles did not exist, would you be with me?”

An Chuxin looked at her and nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I would walk toward you without hesitation.”

Cheng Sutong smiled. It was a tearful, broken smile that was breathtakingly beautiful.

“That is enough,” she said. “Knowing that is enough.”

An Chuxin’s tears surged again. She reached out and finally took Cheng Sutong’s hand.

“Cheng Sutong,” An Chuxin’s voice choked, “promise me you will live well. Take your medicine on time, eat well, and grow up well. Get into a good university and go into a wider world. Also, promise me that if you meet the right person in the future, you will not shrink back because of me. Love, be loved, and live the life you deserve.”

Cheng Sutong did not respond.

“Finally,” An Chuxin gripped her hand tightly and looked deep into her eyes, “remember that you were once loved by someone with all her heart. This love is real, and it will always be there, like a star that never goes out.”

Cheng Sutong could not speak. An Chuxin let go and stood up. “I should go.”

Cheng Sutong stood up as well, her eyes filled with a thousand words she could not say. An Chuxin walked to her, raised her hand, and gently brushed her cheek to wipe away the tears. The touch was light and brief, carrying a lifetime of tenderness.

“Goodbye, Cheng Sutong,” she whispered.

Cheng Sutong stood still, staring in the direction she had left for a long time. Outside the window, the city lights were brilliant and the traffic was like a woven web. Everyone was rushing toward their own destination; everyone had their own story, their own joys, and their own sorrows. She had just experienced a grand, sobering, and hopeless love.

She sat back down, picked up the cold glass of milk, and drank it all in one gulp. Then, she wiped her tears, packed her things, and walked out of the cafe. The night breeze was warm, blowing against her face like someone’s hand. Cheng Sutong looked up at the night sky. A few sparse stars were scattered across the canopy, glowing faintly.

She remembered An Chuxin’s words: “Like a star that never goes out.”

Even if they could not be together, and even if they were destined to part, that love would always be there.

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