Ordinary Friends - Chapter 3

I was discharged three days later, after the doctor observed that everything was fine and allowed me to leave.

I didn’t receive a single message from Qin Zheng that day.

But he did send a bouquet of flowers-Cappuccino roses, my favorite.

Holding that bouquet of Cappuccino roses, I decided to give Qin Zheng another chance.

I sat in the hospital corridor and called him. It took a long time for the call to go through. I asked gently, “Qin Zheng, I’m being discharged today. Do you have time to pick me up?”

We tacitly avoided mentioning “amnesia” and “just friends,” as if those things had never happened.

He didn’t speak. After a moment, he said, “Sorry, Shiyue, I’m really busy and can’t get away. Should I call a car for you?”

“What are you busy with?” I asked calmly.

There was a pause on the other end, probably surprised. I’ve always been considerate and rarely so sharp or insistent.

Because I knew our first project had just wrapped up, and this was our most leisurely time.

Yet he said he was busy.

He didn’t answer. I sighed and hung up myself.

A man’s love or lack thereof is truly obvious.

I remember when I first started working after graduation, I suddenly had acute gastroenteritis at three in the morning. Before I passed out, I called him.

When I woke up, I found him sitting by my hospital bed with red eyes. One foot wore a slipper, the other a sneaker-both shoes were for the left foot. I couldn’t help but smile weakly.

He looked terrified, his eyes instantly red: “Still smiling? When I opened the door and saw you lying on the floor, my heart almost stopped.”

“Next time, call 120 first. What if I hadn’t answered your call? It’s so dangerous.”

I looked at him with a smile, relying on and trusting him: “But in my heart, you’re the safest person.”

See?

He used to care about me like that.

We used to have such beautiful, sincere love.

Even though now everything is almost unrecognizable, when I think of those distant memories, a vague, self-mocking smile still appears on my lips.

I shook my head and tossed the Cappuccino roses into the trash can beside me.

“You don’t like those flowers?” someone asked behind me.

I turned around. It was a stranger, a man, pointing at the flowers in the trash and apologizing:

“Sorry, my driver accidentally hit you with the car yesterday. I took you to the hospital, and after contacting your emergency contact, I had to leave because of urgent matters.”

“This is a discharge gift. Also, I’ve already paid your hospital bills. I’m really sorry. If you need anything else, just let me know.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Even the bouquet was sent by someone else.

I looked up and apologized politely: “Sorry, I thought someone else sent it.”

I sighed inwardly. I’ve always been reasonable and dignified, but being well-mannered doesn’t mean I’m weak or easily bullied.

Qin Zheng and I are truly finished.