Chapter 8

I have no idea how John found this place.

Because of my father, I never brought any friends home, so they only knew the general location, not the exact address.

But John came anyway, taking a plane, a train, and a bus, asking many people along the way.

At that time, John and I were no longer together. He found a doctor for me, arranged a hospital room, and paid the medical bills. As an ex-boyfriend, he truly went above and beyond.

If there were a “World’s Best Ex-Boyfriend” competition, he would undoubtedly take the top prize.

But he did come.

He gave my father some money, calmed his emotions, and took over my responsibilities, presenting himself as my future husband, helping me receive guests and keep vigil.

In the dead of night, I lay with dry eyes that couldn’t shed a tear, resting my head on John’s shoulder, staring at my mother’s portrait.

John held my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine.

He said, “You still have me.”

John’s betrayal never really touched my bottom line.

He cheated, yet I could still eat, drink, and sleep. Whether I lost him or had him, I could live.

But every time he reached out to me, it was when I was truly at my most vulnerable and painful moments.

Because of him, I broke my own principles.

I knew that if I continued to be with him, I would continue to be betrayed, continue to endure pain.

But I went ahead without hesitation.

After the funeral, John took me back to school.

He didn’t let me continue living in the dormitory but instead settled me in a house he bought near the school.

Most of the time, he quietly accompanied me to and from classes. Occasionally, when a new comedy movie came out, he would take me to see it.

That year, during the Spring Festival, he didn’t go back to his own home but enthusiastically cooked a large table of dishes and watched the New Year’s Eve gala with me.

His infidelity was real, his wandering was real, his indecisiveness was real.

But his kindness to me was also real.

And at that time, I was too fragile, too lonely, and I craved that bit of kindness.

So we dated for another year.

This time, it was John who suggested breaking up.

He said he was surprised he could date me for so long.

But it had been too long, always with the same woman, and he seemed to be a bit tired of it.

By then, I had graduated and found my ideal job, so I packed my things and broke up with him quite readily.

There was still a bit of withdrawal, but it wasn’t too severe.

Three months of solitude later, John reappeared in front of me.

He smiled and asked, “What should I do? I thought I should be tired of it, but in reality, I found that I’m not tired enough.”

To John, I must have been special too.

It’s not that I’m narcissistic, but if I weren’t special enough, with so many ex-girlfriends, John wouldn’t keep coming back to me.

He wouldn’t cross mountains and rivers, traveling alone to a remote village.

He broke quite a few principles for me too.

Does he not love me? It seems he does.

Does he love me? It seems not too much.

In the end, we couldn’t break up, couldn’t stay apart.

I agreed to John’s request to get back together.

Because I thought John was a good partner, with money, looks, and the ability to provide emotional value.

As for his infidelity?

As people mature and become more worldly, fidelity between people becomes less important.