Love's Labyrinth

Chapter 6: They are getting married

Back at the residence, Betsy had almost finished her bowl of porridge, while my bowl, still emitting steam, remained untouched. I took out two salted duck eggs from the bag left by Board Dad and handed one to Betsy, saying, "Try it."

"I'm almost done," Betsy replied in a normal tone, the first time she had spoken to me without hostility in the two days we'd known each other.

I smiled and said, "Have another bowl. Plain rice porridge won't make you gain weight."

Ignoring my suggestion, Betsy said, "Your dad has left; you can move out too."

Looking at the wind and rain outside the window, I negotiated with Betsy, "I won't move today. I'll stay one more night. Is that okay?"

"No," Betsy resolutely said.

I tapped the table with my chopsticks, getting frustrated. "What's wrong with you? Do you understand the concept of compromise? Spit out the porridge you just ate, and I'll move immediately."

Betsy looked at me with beautiful eyes, rendered speechless by my sudden change of attitude.

Softening my tone, I said to her, "Big sister, I've been running around all day. I'm exhausted. Can you cut me some slack?"

"Scum, who said I'm your big sister!"

"Miss... Miss, is that better?" I quickly added, pledging with sincerity, "Tomorrow, right after work, I'll move out!"

After a moment of hesitation, Betsy finally relented and said, "Remember what you said."

"Of course, I'll move out tomorrow!"

Unhappy, Betsy looked at me and picked up her bowl, walking towards the rice cooker filled with plain rice porridge. She served herself a small bowl.

"I thought you said you weren't eating," I remarked.

Betsy glared at me and said, "Since I've already softened my mouth, a little extra won't hurt."

Shaking my head, I sighed, "Ah, people are so corrupt!"

Although teasing, I peeled the salted duck eggs and handed one to Betsy. She didn't refuse, and we continued eating in this peculiar atmosphere.

...

After dinner, I handed the $3,000 left by Board Dad to Betsy. "Take this for now. I'll give you the rest of my salary next week."

"Do you still have money to rent a place after giving me this?... Let's repay it together later."

"This is your consideration for me. It's not that I intentionally won't repay you." I stuffed the money into my wallet.

"As long as you hurry up and move out, everything else doesn't matter." Betsy said, taking another sip of porridge. She seemed to like the porridge; Board Dad's skill in making it was exceptional, turning the most ordinary rice porridge into a flavorful dish.

"I'm not a jinx; there's no need to dislike me so much!" I exclaimed.

"With your character, do you expect me to like you?" Betsy retorted.

I smiled, not pressing the issue further. Perhaps I was genuinely flawed, or maybe she had some misunderstandings about me. Nevertheless, it didn't matter. I didn't feel the need to clarify or explain, and tomorrow, after work, we would draw clear boundaries.

I finished my bowl of porridge in one gulp and then stared at Betsy. She was dressed in a white long-sleeved chiffon shirt, and black and white checkered casual pants, with slightly curled medium-length hair, adding to her charm but also highlighting her thin figure.

I took out the knitted sweater left by Board Dad and gestured playfully in front of Betsy. After a while, I sighed, "It's getting cold. Don't you think this sweater suits you perfectly?"

Betsy furrowed her brows. "What? You want me to owe you a favor?"

"It suits you perfectly... If you're willing to let me continue renting this place, I don't mind giving it to you. My dad said it was knitted by my mom—thick and warm, perfect for blocking the wind in winter!"

"Unworthy."

I smiled and handed her the sweater. "I was just joking with you. Even if you don't rent it, I'll give it to you. I currently have no plans to find a girlfriend, and keeping such a good sweater around is a waste. Consider it an apology for my unreasonable behavior yesterday."

I expressed genuine sincerity, and after some hesitation, Betsy took the sweater. She said to me, "Fine, I accept your apology... Also, be better for your dad. Don't deceive him and make him worry."

"Accepting the apology and being better to my dad seems logically unrelated," I questioned.

Frustrated by my skepticism, Betsy said indignantly, "You're truly scum!" and then shoved the sweater into her handbag and left without saying anything.

Alone in the room, I couldn't comprehend Betsy's sudden anger. Sitting there for a long time, I finally understood. Perhaps she temporarily accepted my apology and even allowed me to stay another night out of sympathy for Board Dad. However, she still felt indifferent and annoyed with me. In her eyes, I had played with a woman's feelings, deceived my father, and broken promises with violence. What else could I be if not scum?

That night, Betsy didn't stay in the room. I thought to myself, she must have other places to stay in this city. Why did she insist on staying here?

Unable to figure it out, I decided not to dwell on it. In this world, there were always strange people and strange things. Comparing it to the vast and varied world, it wasn't that surprising. There was no need to dig into it. Consider it a form of wealthy behavior.

Sometimes, I quite liked living in a muddled way. Because the truth could bring pain, gaining could lead to losing. Not knowing meant no pain, and not getting meant no losing.

...

The next day, at the company, after the regular weekly meeting of the planning department, Morton Cowper and I walked out of the meeting room side by side, with another colleague, Zhao Li, following behind.

I lit a cigarette and gestured for Zhao Li to come over. "Come here, Zhao Li."

Zhao Li, wary, asked, "What for?"

"I heard you like outdoor sports?"

"Yes, I enjoy it."

I smiled and said, "I have a set of professional outdoor sports equipment. Bought it but barely used it. I'll sell it to you cheap."

"Why would you buy outdoor gear if you don't like it?" Zhao Li asked in confusion.

"Exactly because I don't like it. I've never used it, just like new. It's a great deal. It's from The North Face. I'll sell you the whole set for $2,000." I draped my arm around Zhao Li's shoulder.

"Really?" Zhao Li asked, pleasantly surprised.

"Definitely. Give me the money now, and I'll have Morton Cowper bring it to you tomorrow. It's been sitting at his place." I handed the equipment to Zhao Li.

Zhao Li counted out $2,000 from his wallet and handed it to me, saying, "Remember to bring it to me tomorrow. It'll come in handy for rock climbing next weekend."

I tucked the money into my pocket. "You tell Morton Cowper."

Zhao Li then informed Morton Cowper, who had been absentmindedly standing nearby, "Morton Cowper, remember to bring Adrian Sterling's outdoor gear to me tomorrow."

Morton Cowper snapped out of his daze and asked in confusion, "What outdoor gear?"

"It's the set from The North Face that Adrian Sterling sold to me." Zhao Li patiently explained.

I took a deep drag of my cigarette and immediately headed to the restroom. Behind me, Morton Cowper cursed loudly, "What the hell, that's mine!"

I overheard Morton Cowper reluctantly telling Zhao Li, "Fine, don't be upset. I'll bring it to you tomorrow."

...

After smoking in the restroom, I returned to the office. A cup of coffee was placed on Morton Cowper's desk, and he was wearing radiation-resistant glasses, typing away on the keyboard.

I opened my computer, played with the lighter in my hand during the startup, and engaged Morton Cowper in conversation. "Still busy with the plan for GUCCI to set up a counter in our mall?"

Morton Cowper, not concerned about our earlier incident, sighed, "Yeah, been busy for almost a week. The Merchandising Department has been waiting for our plan, and negotiations with GUCCI's representatives are pending."

I acknowledged with a brief response and didn't press further. Morton Cowper and I had opposite attitudes. He was a workaholic, while I had always been laid-back. Despite working for the same company for two years, Morton Cowper had already become the head of the Planning Department's Copywriting Planning Group, whereas I remained at the bottom.

Morton Cowper suddenly stopped typing and stared at me with a heavy heart.

"What's wrong?" I asked, puzzled by Morton Cowper's strange behavior.

After a long silence, Morton Cowper finally said, "A few days ago, seeing that you weren't in a good mood, there's something I haven't told you... Yanyan and I are getting married next week."

"So, you're finally getting married!" I sighed subconsciously, feeling a sudden wave of painful twinges.

Initially, Morton Cowper and Yanyan's acquaintance was entirely thanks to me and Jenny. Yanyan was Jenny's best friend, and I introduced them to each other. The four of us frequently hung out during college, and the deepening friendship led to a few jokes about getting married together after graduation.

Morton Cowper and Yanyan, having fallen in love, were going to tie the knot. It was undoubtedly a joyous event, but it also exposed my pain and loneliness mercilessly—my love with Jenny had ultimately failed.

Sometimes, a person's suffering stems from comparison. At this moment, besides envying and blessing Morton Cowper and Yanyan, what else could I do?

Past events would eventually turn to dust, but the wind couldn't blow them away. Lying on my heart, it formed a layer of dead ash.

I smiled at Morton Cowper, "Where's the wedding invitation? Show me."

Morton Cowper nodded, took out the wedding invitation from the drawer, and handed it to me. Opening it, the photo on the invitation showed Morton Cowper and Yanyan with radiant smiles.

...

After a long silence, I asked Morton Cowper, "If you get married, will Jenny come back?"

"You know, since she moved from Los Angeles to New York, we lost contact. But a few days ago, Yanyan emailed her, and she hasn't replied yet. Whether she'll come back or not, no one can say for sure."

"Oh?" I responded blandly, not continuing the conversation with Morton Cowper. My fingers pressed the keyboard while my eyes stared at the screen, lost in thought.