My Weekend Lover Turned Out To Be My Boss - Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Hurt. “A Separate Journey”

The story came to an abrupt end. After a long silence, Qiu Qi said wearily, “I’m tired.”

I knew that making someone recall their most painful past was a cruel thing. Tearing open the wound in their heart and then rubbing salt in it was an unbearable bitterness. I got up, smoothed out her quilt, and patted her with a smile: “Sleep if you’re tired. Everything exists in dreams.”

She nestled into the covers beside me and closed her eyes. I leaned against the headboard, silently smoking a cigarette. She mumbled under the covers, protesting softly, “You owe me a story.”

I patted her shoulder, shushing her just like I did when coaxing Qing Fan to sleep. “Hmm, next time it will be my turn.”

When Qiu Qi’s breathing became steady and she was sound asleep, I stared at the lighter in my hand, deep in thought. I had to admit, the hardship and near-death experience Qiu Qi had gone through were strikingly similar to what Phoebe and I had faced. I was much luckier; at least Phoebe, who was also a desperate workaholic, was still healthy.

Thinking of this, I took out the phone I had turned off last night, powered it on with a slight sense of expectation, hoping to see a message. However, apart from a pile of junk notifications from various apps, there was nothing. I opened Moments (WeChat feeds) to scroll through. Everyone seemed to be doing well. It turned out that my presence and departure were the equivalent of nothing ever happening.

I stared at the Moments post about Qing Fan, looking at the child’s happy smile. Watching her grow up day after day, perhaps I hadn’t realized how much the little girl had grown because of our closeness. Jo Ann’s mixed-race genes had made her into a little beauty. After a few days apart, I missed her terribly, even more than Phoebe. It was precisely because of the child that she became the biggest source of conflict between Phoebe and me…

…

And so, after the ‘lost pen’ incident, the relationship between Phoebe and me completely soured. The next day, she moved into an apartment building with an elevator, closer to the company. The excuse was “not wanting to waste precious time on the commute.” Using that kind of rhetoric to stall me was a kindness; I was even happy about it, naively thinking that at least that Guan Shuyun wouldn’t interfere with our private lives anymore.

Initially, friends thought it was just a minor spat and joked that ‘fighting is a preservative for love.’ When a month passed and we remained indifferent, everyone started to get anxious. Even Qing Fan, who stayed at school and only came home on weekends, hadn’t seen Phoebe for quite some time. She kept following me, asking persistently, “Where is Mama?”

That simple question completely stumped me. So, after school one Friday, I picked up Qing Fan. Counting the days, the child really hadn’t seen her mother for over a month. With a surge of irritation, I decided to head straight to the apartment and wait for her.

I thought she was busy, working relentlessly, not eating or sleeping, too busy to set foot in her own home. I stood outside, holding Qing Fan’s hand. After a polite knock yielded no response, I simply took out the spare key and opened the door. The truth was, this 120-square-meter three-bedroom apartment was filled with a warm atmosphere: the smell of cooked food, pleasant music, red wine, fruit, and so on…

But there were no slippers for me or the child, nor any sense of our belonging. Phoebe stood outside the kitchen, showing no reaction to my appearance. I felt like air, yet an annoying presence that lacked self-awareness. The sound of clattering came from the kitchen. Qing Fan shouted “Mama” and then ran toward her. Guan Shuyun emerged, wearing an apron, carrying a steaming stir-fry dish, looking very much like the mistress of the house.

Her domestic attire reminded me of many years ago, when I played that role, and even excelled at it. Phoebe picked up Qing Fan and smiled faintly. Guan Shuyun looked at me, not at all embarrassed, and even extended an invitation: “I was just telling Phoebe to call you to come over and taste my cooking. How great, speak of the devil and here you are.”

Suppressing a sense of humiliation, I walked over to Phoebe, looked earnestly into her eyes, and slowly explained, “The little one kept complaining that she hadn’t seen her mother for a long time, so I brought her over right after school. I thought you were at the company… What a coincidence, you’re actually home.”

“Qing Fan will stay with me tonight. I’ll take her to school on Monday. If you’re willing to stay, you can also try General Manager Guan’s cooking.”

The hurt Phoebe inflicted on me was always subtle: no insults, no confrontation, just cold eyes and a few brief words. I kept smiling, but that expression must have looked incredibly fake. I waved my hand: “Just as well, I haven’t been to MA in a while. Well… I’ll leave the child with you this weekend…”

This conversation was ridiculous, like two people who had divorced. I felt like the victim in this fragile family, my right to be here easily stripped away by someone I had met no more than three times, and now I had to slink away.

Seeing that I was about to leave, Guan Shuyun pursued me with false sincerity: “Are you leaving already? I’ll quickly cook two more dishes; it’s not too late to eat before you go.”

I didn’t reply, just shook my head. Qing Fan extended her arms, pulled away from her mother’s embrace, and hugged my neck, exclaiming, “Why is Da Fan leaving?”

“I’m going to see Xi Er and Pu Ke Auntie. You must eat properly, listen to Mama, and not sleep too late at night. What do you do before sleeping?”

“Brush my teeth~~”

“Good girl~”

Guan Shuyun went back into the kitchen, leaving the space to Phoebe and me. Phoebe offered to walk me out, and so, in a moment, the three of us took the elevator down to the community garden.

I walked slowly with my hands in my pockets. Phoebe stopped, looking like she had something to say but couldn’t. Whenever she did this, I had the illusion that a major event was about to happen. After a painful second thought, I said with a slight choke, “If life starts to become contradictory, dull, and difficult, and you want to say those two words, it’s never too late. I won’t blame you… But please, don’t hurt me in this way… You promised me a long time ago that you would never hurt me again…”

…

“When you’ve been together for a long time, it’s inevitable that things become as dull as water… Look, Xi Er and I have been together for almost twenty years, and we still quarrel all the time… Women, they just need to be coaxed…”

“Oh, stop stirring things up. Fan Fan’s situation is different from ours. Do you know what a third party is? From the looks of it, this person surnamed Guan came prepared. Not only is she poaching the marriage, she’s doing it with self-righteous confidence, even taking over as host…”

Holding a bottle of wine, I sought oblivion in drunkenness. Pu Ke and Xi Er listened to the whole story intermittently and then started debating noisily. But no matter what they said, they couldn’t come up with a solution. Finally, they simply kept quiet and drank with me. These seasoned veterans of the drinking scene were all fiercely dedicated.

One case of beer was emptied and another was dragged over, as if the alcohol were free. Pu Ke put her arm around my shoulder, raised the bottle amidst the noisy music, and said, “We can’t solve the practical problem, but if you want to drink, you came to the right place. The only thing I’m good at is accompanying someone to drown their sorrows!”

I don’t know how much time passed. I only remember that the city’s last sounds of excitement had faded away. I also lost count of how many times I threw up in the restroom. It seemed like even Soso rushed over at the end. Pu Ke, never one to let things slide, stopped serving beer and went straight for the hard liquor. I sat sprawled outside the door of MA, clutching an empty bottle. That night, I cried heartbrokenly, just like when I lost my mother: