The Pursuit of Love After Divorcing My Cold Omega - Chapter 69

She had fallen in love with Song Wenzhi.

On the day Song Wenzhi moved out, Yu Kunian had smashed several bottles of red wine. Although a regular cleaning service came every week to tidy up, when she returned today, there were still remnants of color on the carpet. No matter how faint it was, it remained exceptionally glaring.

Yu Kunian walked into the living room and sat down on that carpet, just as she used to do in the past, watching Song Wenzhi prepare her lessons from this spot. But now, the Alpha turned her head to look at the empty space beside her. Her vision was blurred, and her fingertips trembled incessantly, unable to hide the profound sorrow in the depths of her eyes.

From the moment she stepped through the door, Yu Kunian’s emotions had already begun to spiral out of control.

This home was far too familiar—so familiar that she clearly remembered every trace of Song Wenzhi’s existence. Everywhere her gaze landed, she would, in a daze, recall the Omega’s vivid silhouette. But now, the house was far too quiet. There was no longer the sound of Song Wenzhi’s voice in Yu Kunian’s ears; there was only the sound of her own ragged breathing. The trance-like hallucinations lasted only a fleeting moment before vanishing completely.

Yu Kunian hadn’t wanted to come back precisely because the traces of Song Wenzhi were everywhere, yet the Omega’s scent was entirely gone, as if she had never existed at all. Her attempts to catch even a faint whiff of coconut candy were in vain. The temperature around her dropped; the breeze drifting in from the window was light, yet it made her cheeks sting with pain.

At this moment, even breathing felt bitter.

Her mind repeatedly replayed her past with Song Wenzhi. They had spent a warm and beautiful period of time in this home, but not long ago, all of it had shattered as quickly as a dream. Just like those bottles of wine, the shards lay miserably scattered across the floor. A lingering, unshakeable astringency permeated the air; it tasted sour in her throat and felt heavy with grief as she swallowed. Her exhaled breath trembled uncontrollably; the Alpha could no longer taste the flavor of the wine.

Her mouth was filled with a suppressed bitterness that blocked all the words she wanted to say.

Furthermore, even now, she did not dare to enter that bedroom. The Alpha was afraid of seeing the clothes that had been taken away, afraid of seeing the wardrobe left with nothing but lonely hangers, and even more afraid of seeing the bed where the two of them used to sleep in each other’s arms late at night. Though there were two pillows, in the end, she was the only one left.

In truth, the time she spent with Song Wenzhi wasn’t particularly long, and the time they lived together was even shorter. Yet, Yu Kunian didn’t know when she had become completely accustomed to a life of two. Song Wenzhi’s arrival had helped her banish a loneliness she hadn’t previously noticed, and since the Omega left, Yu Kunian felt a sense of solitude unlike anything she had ever experienced before.

She was no longer used to being alone.

She couldn’t be without Song Wenzhi anymore.

Yu Kunian lowered her head and buried her face in her palms. Her palms were uncharacteristically cold. Her closed eyes couldn’t restrain the tear that was about to fall; the scalding tear slid down the corner of her eye, wetting the Alpha’s fingertip.

She made no sound, sitting there silently, reminiscing about every little detail of her time with Song Wenzhi, allowing a vast sorrow to slowly swallow her whole. Yu Kunian felt powerless. When she thought of Song Wenzhi, she hated herself for the mistakes she made while trying to win her back; yet when she remembered Song Wenzhi’s pained expression, she hated herself even more for actually hurting the Omega.

She could not forget the expression on Song Wenzhi’s face when she had tracked her down to Xia Weichi’s house that day.

At that time, the Omega was desperately trying to suppress her pheromones, her brow tightly furrowed in pain—and because of Yu Kunian’s arrival. The Alpha realized that Song Wenzhi’s reaction was caused by her. Yu Kunian was at a loss, but she had no other choice but to retreat.

Even if she had the chance to go back and do it again, Yu Kunian might have reacted the same way, because at that moment, Song Wenzhi had made her feel an endless sense of bewilderment, dragging her into a pit of self-doubt. In her memory, Song Wenzhi had never been that fragile. That Omega, who was initially so aloof toward others, had stood there with red eyes, tears falling as she looked at her.

Before this, Yu Kunian had never regretted any choice she had made. She was accustomed to looking forward, indifferently casting aside anything that left her. But this time, and only this time, she regretted it.

Utterly and completely, she regretted her initial actions.

After an unknown amount of time, Yu Kunian stood up again. Her gaze fell upon the tightly closed bedroom door. After hesitating for a long time, she turned toward the wine cabinet instead. She randomly took out a bottle of stored red wine, sat at the dining table, opened it, and began to silently drown herself in alcohol.

Did she want to use wine to drown her sorrows? She didn’t know. Or perhaps, she wanted to use the wine to bolster her courage.

Yu Kunian felt that she couldn’t walk into that bedroom while sober. That was the space where she and Song Wenzhi had spent the most time together; it contained the most memories, and now, it held the sharpest blade. Yu Kunian never thought she would have a day where she felt such fear—and all because of a bedroom, a common bedroom.

Today, she couldn’t taste the red wine; her heart was filled only with bitterness.

Until the wine was gone, though Yu Kunian wasn’t drunk, her thoughts became less clear. Holding her wine glass, the Alpha slowly walked toward the bedroom. Before pushing the door open, she couldn’t help but feel nervous, her breath hitching for a moment.

The furnishings inside hadn’t changed much. The bed was as neat as usual, and the tabletop had been personally tidied by Song Wenzhi. The rimless glasses were still resting on the nightstand; occasionally, she would put them on to tease the Omega.

Song Wenzhi would always wrap her arms around her waist, her hair draped over the pillow, a faint smile on her face. Her eyes would shimmer slightly, reflecting the Alpha’s silhouette. When Yu Kunian leaned in to kiss the Omega, she would always be pushed playfully on the shoulder first. Song Wenzhi would often lean back and then catch her glasses frames with her fingers, and Yu Kunian would laugh.

Every day of the past felt like yesterday. Standing at the door, Yu Kunian found that the taste of the red wine had somehow made her throat even drier. Looking at everything before her, she wanted to force a smile, but her lips felt incredibly heavy; she couldn’t even manage a bitter smile.

The Alpha’s footsteps grew heavier. Each step she took was much slower than the last until she had fully entered the room. She turned and pushed open the wardrobe door. The situation inside was exactly as expected. Her own clothes were hanging there, but the other half was empty. The Alpha’s heart trembled violently, and her fingertips turned white from the force of gripping the wardrobe door.

Without Song Wenzhi’s traces, this wardrobe had become exceptionally hollow.

Yu Kunian lowered her eyes. She turned back with difficulty and stepped forward to stop by the bed. She finished the wine in her glass before sitting down. Even here, she still couldn’t feel Song Wenzhi’s presence. The scent of coconut candy had vanished entirely. A moment later, Yu Kunian lay down on her side, her heart a chaotic mix of emotions.

Song Wenzhi had taken everything; she hadn’t even left a memento for Yu Kunian.

That was until Yu Kunian discovered that in the drawer of the nightstand, there were still things belonging to Song Wenzhi—perhaps she had forgotten to take them. The Alpha impatiently opened it. It was a gift box that seemed to have been well-preserved. When Yu Kunian saw what was inside, she froze.

A silk scarf—that familiar gift. The silk scarf she had thought Song Wenzhi didn’t like.

Song Wenzhi valued this gift deeply, so she had specially used a gift box to preserve it. Feeling it was precious and fearing it might get dirty, she had never worn it out, instead carefully tucking it away. The scarf was still as pristine as new. Beside the scarf lay all the gifts, large and small, that Yu Kunian had ever given Song Wenzhi.

Song Wenzhi had returned all of them to Yu Kunian.

Everything the Alpha had once given—whether with false intent or true emotion—had been returned.

Yu Kunian picked up the silk scarf. She remembered the day she had personally put it on Song Wenzhi; the Omega had still been somewhat distant with her. The memory was still fresh.

Song Wenzhi had done her best to return everything that could be returned. Even the hairpin given at the very beginning, which had grown a bit old, the Omega had replaced with a new one as compensation and placed it in the gift box. Yu Kunian picked it up and gripped it tightly in her hand. Her breathing quickened as she let out a few muffled sobs. She hunched over, unable to stand steadily, and eventually, the Alpha sank powerlessly onto the floor.

Crushing emotions surged like a tide. Yu Kunian’s vision was blurred. Looking at the items in the gift box, she didn’t know how to describe her current feelings.

Song Wenzhi wanted to have nothing more to do with her.

Yet she had only just discovered her own heart.

Beneath all the gifts, there were a few sheets of letter paper. Yu Kunian took them out to look and realized they were the speech notes she had written when she first went to Lihua University, with her signature at the end.

When she turned the page to check, Yu Kunian discovered that next to her own name, another name had been added.

—On that slightly old piece of paper, on the line below the name “Yu Kunian,” the Omega had written the three characters “Song Wenzhi” in fountain pen.

Neat and tidy, the ink was deeply imprinted.

As if meeting the person through her writing, Yu Kunian looked at the newly written characters and remembered Song Wenzhi’s face, remembered Song Wenzhi’s smile.

Yu Kunian’s fingertips trembled so much she could hardly hold the paper. Her breathing fell into chaos once again. Her eyes held nothing but the three characters “Song Wenzhi,” and then her vision grew even more blurred as a mist rose. A tear rolled out of her eye without warning.

It landed on the paper in her hand.

The hot tear blurred the ink, causing Yu Kunian’s own handwriting to bleed. The paper softened. Yu Kunian hurriedly tried to wipe it with her fingertip, only to clumsily smudge Song Wenzhi’s name.

The beautiful handwriting was now flawed. Yu Kunian panicked but could not restore it to its original state. She could only move the paper away, placing it on the nightstand, and then she leaned back.

Countless tears gushed out; Yu Kunian could no longer control them.

The scalding tears poured out like a flood from a broken dam. Yu Kunian raised her hand to cover her face. She began to sob painfully, whimpers escaping from her throat. Her shoulders shook with tremors; she had broken down.

Yu Kunian thought to herself: she was wrong.

She liked Song Wenzhi. She had fallen in love with Song Wenzhi.

That Omega was her wife, her lover. How could she let go? How could she make such a huge mistake… She was the direction the Alpha’s heart yearned for, her only exception. Yu Kunian could hardly catch her breath; her mind was filled with nothing but Song Wenzhi.

She loved her—without a doubt, with total sincerity.

Yu Kunian’s lips trembled slightly, and tears soaked her eyelashes. These speech notes seemed to be the final straw that broke her. The emotions she had previously managed to suppress now demanded release. The soreness in her nose made her subconsciously frown. The Alpha’s tears fell one by one onto the floor. Yu Kunian’s sobbing echoed clearly in the bedroom. She had never been this helpless before, no longer caring about her miserable state.

The Alpha wanted to ask herself: why did she only discover her love now?

Yu Kunian loathed herself for being this way, hated her own ignorance, and despised her own stupidity.

She had looked for Song Wenzhi so many times and said so many things, yet from beginning to end, she had forgotten to say “I’m sorry.” The words that most needed to be said had never once left her mouth. To Song Wenzhi, her actions were more than just a mistake.

She had originally thought that it was Song Wenzhi who couldn’t leave her, that the Omega needed her. But now, Yu Kunian realized that she was the one who couldn’t leave. She wasn’t used to a life without Song Wenzhi, wasn’t used to not having Song Wenzhi’s company, and could not accept that there would no longer be any trace of Song Wenzhi in her world.

Yu Kunian could not leave Song Wenzhi.

From start to finish, she was the one who couldn’t accept the separation.

When she signed the divorce agreement, Yu Kunian was thinking that if she saw Song Wenzhi, the one thing she wanted to say was: “Zhizhi, I hope you can live well after leaving me.”

She hadn’t seen Song Wenzhi, so those words were never spoken.

And now, as she wept, Yu Kunian felt that after leaving Song Wenzhi, she would never live well. She didn’t know what to do with a life without Song Wenzhi.

She only knew that she was missing Song Wenzhi with a frantic, uncontrollable intensity. Every moment, every second, she was thinking of that Omega.

How was Song Wenzhi doing now? Did Song Wenzhi ever think of her?