My Weekend Lover Turned Out To Be My Boss - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

: Leaving – “Goodbye, Goodbye”

I frowned slightly, taking in the woman named Guan Shuyun. Judging by her attire, she didn’t look like an assistant or a secretary. No administrative personnel would dress more distinctively than their boss—at least, the designer bag slung over her shoulder had a logo that no ordinary employee could afford. I murmured a few words: “How did she get so drunk? Thank you, Miss Guan.”

“Not at all, Ms. You. Ms. Lan is quite intoxicated, so I’ll leave her in your capable hands.”

I reached out and took hold of Phoebe’s arm. After a brief exchange, I watched the woman leave the garden. Phoebe’s eyes were slightly squinted, her cheeks flushed crimson from the alcohol. Heartbroken, I carefully laid her on the sofa, tidied her messy hair, and placed the back of my hand against her burning face. Perhaps because my hand was cool, Phoebe’s lips curved slightly, looking immensely comfortable.

I rushed into the kitchen to prepare a glass of warm water and returned to the living room, only to find Phoebe sitting up. She tried to stand but failed. I rushed forward, supported her, and teased softly, “I didn’t think my big boss Lan would have moments of poor alcohol tolerance. Here, have some water.”

Phoebe leaned against me, obediently drinking the warm water. I knew she was working hard to build her business, constantly busy with social engagements, and it was tough. I rubbed her temples tenderly and admonished, “Next time, don’t drink so fiercely. Let your subordinates handle it. Money can never be earned endlessly. If you ruin your body, what will happen to the child and me?”

Phoebe pushed the cup away, her brow furrowed, seeming to sober up slightly. She pushed back righteously, “Do you know the annual performance of Jieshi and Zhuoyue? Do you know how many employees both companies have? How many companies are vying for government bidding projects? In this society, everything comes down to a drink to determine the winner. If I don’t strive, can you and the child live comfortably and securely at home?”

With that, Phoebe pushed me away and walked toward the second floor in a huff. She gripped the railing, walking with difficulty. I didn’t mean to criticize her; even though she was throwing an unwarranted tantrum, I still followed her, intending to help her, but she forcefully waved me away.

I stood still, watching her walk up the stairs step by step until her figure disappeared around the corner of the railing. I sat on the stairs in silence. Perhaps Soso was right—our relationship was indeed facing a crisis, and I didn’t know where the problem lay or how to fix it.

I gave us both enough time to process the argument. When I finally walked into the bedroom, Phoebe was already lying down, her back facing me, and the bed looked anything but warm. I turned off the bedside lamp and walked straight into the guest room, tossing and turning, unable to think about deeper issues, just enduring the agonizing pain of insomnia.

…

I stared tiredly at the ceiling, finally waiting for the light of day. Stepping out of the guest room, Phoebe had already composed herself, as if the person who was drunk last night was me, not her. I sat at the dining table looking at the steaming breakfast. Phoebe was, as always, flipping through the news on her iPad. I wanted to cheer her up, so I sat next to her, pulled away her tablet, and chuckled foolishly: “Wife~ Could you wash something for me?”

Phoebe looked at me coolly: “Wash what?”

“Wash your love for me~” (Literal: “Wash the like for me” – a common Chinese wordplay)

Evidently, this low-level flirting did nothing to improve our relationship. She exhaled silently, picked up a napkin, and wiped her lips: “I’m full.”

Just like that, she stood up, ready to leave. I felt my anger and composure fighting at the breaking point. Finally, I sat up straight and grabbed her arm. She stopped and looked down at me: “I’m very busy. I have a very important meeting waiting for me today, and tonight I have to entertain the Director of the Land Resources Bureau. I don’t have time to play with you.”

I slowly raised my head to look at her, holding onto my final thread of composure. I smiled and said, “Today is Qingfan’s school opening ceremony. What could be more important than our child’s affairs?”

Phoebe coldly shook off my hand, rubbing her wrist, and answered matter-of-factly, “We agreed a long time ago. I handle the career, and you take care of the child. You can just go to the opening ceremony with her.”

Clap! I slammed my palm onto the table. I finally couldn’t hold back my temper and roared, “I took Qingfan to the Ocean Park yesterday. She used her pocket money to buy a little gift for you and waited up all night for you. Where were you? You got dead drunk because of work. I don’t blame you. But what is your attitude today? Work, work, work! If you love work so much, why have this family? If I didn’t remind you today, you probably wouldn’t even know how old your child is!”

A flicker of astonishment crossed Phoebe’s eyes, but her expression remained cold. She slightly tilted her head back and stared straight at me. Finally, she picked up her designer bag and document folder from the table and walked away without looking back. Immediately afterward, a child’s cry came from the stairwell. I rushed to Qingfan and picked her up: “Shh, good girl, don’t cry.”

Qingfan hugged my head tightly, sobbing uncontrollably, tears and snot smearing my face: “Waaah… Little Fan doesn’t want Mama to fight… don’t fight…”

“We’re not fighting, not fighting… Shh, good girl, don’t cry.”

I rubbed the child’s head, comforting her, while my own eyes got uncontrollably wet. I would rather you argue and fuss with me than see you leave without a sound. Truly, you possess a cruel heart. After all these years, the leopard cannot change its spots.

I harshly dragged myself back from the past memories. I was standing at the train station entrance, backpack slung over my shoulders, feeling like I had emerged into a different world. I lit a cigarette, found a flight of steps, and sat down without a care. My phone was fully charged, yet it was dead silent, without a single message.

I knew Phoebe’s personality well. Even if she had loved me, once the interest was gone and we parted ways, she would be like a fickle, unfeeling monarch banishing a concubine to the cold palace—let you rage all you want, she would remain unmoved. Looking back, I realized I had never overcome her indifference, but even so, I didn’t hate her in the slightest.

The bustling station was like a small theatre—where people meet, others part. Every embrace is the start or the end of a story. A person like me seemed especially out of place. There was no sorrowful farewell, thus no tearful scene. I wanted to leave this place.

The destination didn’t matter; I just wanted to leave, without any ties. These ties had evolved from love to family and friendship. I wanted to abandon everyone here. I wanted to go somewhere strange and start a new, undisturbed life, and in that blueprint, Lan Feiyi would no longer exist.

So, I thought I would be terribly sad, but after crying everything out, I realized that once the heart dies, you can’t feel any pain—just calmness and confusion. I stubbed out the cigarette and mocked myself: “You Feifan, what kind of place can tolerate a lunatic like you?”

A thought flashed through my mind, guiding me like a clear path. I opened my backpack to check its contents, taking out all the paper money from my wallet. As they fell out, a photo of Phoebe and me caught my eye. She was leaning against me, a slight smile on her lips, her eyes curved into arcs. Perhaps that expression was called happiness, and I, too, was laughing heartily in the picture.

I abruptly shut my eyes, unwilling to look any longer—not because I didn’t want to, but because I was afraid the sight would bring back emotions and sway my decision to leave. I quickly closed the wallet. Clutching the bills in my hand, I decided that I would go wherever this money could buy me the farthest ticket.

…