The Wife He Forgot To Love Chapter 11
That was not the her from the debate competition.
That was the later her — wearing gray loungewear, her hair loose, her face pale, with a scar on her wrist.
She looked at him, neither smiling nor crying, with absolutely no expression on her face.
He walked over, wanting to hold her hand.
She took a step back.
He said, “Daniela, I am sorry.”
She said, “You do not need to say sorry.”
“I should. I shouldn’t have treated you like that. I shouldn’t have called you annoying, I shouldn’t have called you sensitive, I shouldn’t have talked about people from your hometown like that. I…”
She interrupted him.
“Jonathan, you asked me before if I dared to take a gamble, and I said I did. I gambled. And I lost.”
He opened his mouth but could not speak.
She said, “You don’t love me anymore. When it started, I don’t know.
“Maybe it was when your mother said I was different from you all, and you didn’t refute it.
“Maybe it was when Bradley borrowed money for the first time, and you asked if I was insane.
“Maybe it was when that female colleague appeared. Maybe it was even earlier. You don’t love me anymore.”
“No…” He wanted to say no.
“Yes,” she said.
Her tone calm.
So calm it was as if she were talking about something that had nothing to do with her.
“It doesn’t matter that you don’t love me anymore. It is enough that I loved you. But the way you looked at me later made me feel that even loving you was a mistake.”
He squatted down, squatting in front of her, and his tears fell to the ground.
“Daniela, I am wrong. I know I was wrong. Give me one chance, come back, and I will change everything.”
She looked at him, looking for a long time.
“Jonathan, do you know what I made for my last meal?”
He did not speak.
“Pork ribs. You said you liked them.
“I stewed them for two hours, waiting for you to come back.
“You asked if I could stop asking so many questions every time we ate.”
“I…”
“I wasn’t asking too many questions. I just wanted to speak a few more words with you.
“It had been a long time since I had a proper conversation with you.
“Can’t you see that?
“You never could.”
She turned around.
He reached out to grab her, but could not catch her.
She said, “Do not come looking for me in the next life.”
She disappeared from the dream.
He woke up, and his pillow was wet.
The room was very dark, and the curtains on the balcony were moving.
The wind slipped in through the crack in the window, a northwest wind.
The seventh day after she died.
Jonathan stood alone on the balcony until late at night.
In the flowerbed downstairs, the flowers had already withered.
She had said that when the flowers bloomed, the whole family would go take pictures. The flowers bloomed, but she did not go.
The flowers withered, and she did not see them.
The forensic doctor said she had signs of self-harm, and he saw a severe depression diagnosis report on her phone; these were things that were obviously easy to spot, yet he had noticed none of them.
For a long time afterward, Jonathan would stand downstairs for a while every day after getting off work.
He did not go up.
He stood by the flowerbed, looking at the window of their home.
The sixteenth floor, the lights were not on.
In the past, when she was there, the lights at home were always on.
She had said, “When you come back and see the lights on at home, you know someone is waiting for you.”
Later, the lights were no longer on. No one was waiting for him anymore.
He would sometimes think of the last time she spoke to him.
That morning, when he left the house, she was in the kitchen and said, “Be careful on the road.”
Her voice was not loud, and the door was half-closed, so he did not hear the second half of the sentence.
All he heard was “On the road.”
Be careful on the road.
Be careful of what?
Be careful not to crash the car? Be careful not to be late? Be careful not to forget her?
He had already forgotten her.
For how long had he forgotten?
One year?
Two years?
He could not remember clearly.
He only remembered that when she cried, he frowned; when she spoke, he looked at his phone; when she stood on the balcony, he lay on the sofa.