My girlfriend's lie

Chapter 4

The knot in my stomach was so tight I could barely stand.

I steadied myself against the wall, fumbling my way to the living room cabinet, and rummaged through a pile of clutter for that familiar bottle of stomach medicine. Without water, I tipped a few pills into my hand and swallowed them dry. The bitter taste of the pills burned a path down my throat to my stomach, but it couldn't quell the sharper pain in my heart.

This house suddenly felt vast and empty, so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat, each thud dull and faint.

I pulled out my suitcase and started packing my things. My movements were mechanical, like a pre-programmed robot. My clothes, my books, my laptop… Every item I picked up felt like peeling away a layer of skin that had grown on me. Seven years of skin.

In the bottom drawer of the desk, my fingers brushed against a hardcover book.

It was the photo album.

Du Wanning had bought it. She said she wanted to use it to record every moment of our lives together, from our dark hair to our gray.

My fingers paused on the cover for a few seconds before I finally opened it.

The first page was our university graduation. We were in our gowns, beaming at the camera.

The second page was our first trip together. We were at the beach, her head resting on my shoulder, the sea breeze tangling her hair.

The third page was my birthday. She’d baked a lopsided cake and smeared frosting all over my face.

…

I turned the pages one by one, as if I were passing judgment on my own past foolishness. The sweeter the memory, the harder reality slapped me in the face.

Near the back, my hand froze.

The last dozen or so pages of the album were brand new, clean, and blank.

A glaring expanse of white, like a giant, mocking mouth.

“Xiao Tong, we're going to fill every single page, until we're too old to walk and we can just sit in our rocking chairs and flip through it slowly.”

Her sweet words from that day echoed in my ears now like a curse, every syllable turning into the cruelest irony.

My heart felt like it had been plunged into ice water, growing completely cold, and sinking.

Outside, the rain had stopped at some point. A sliver of pale light appeared on the horizon.

A new day, and it had nothing to do with me.

I zipped up my suitcase. The *click* sounded unnaturally loud in the silent room.

At the door, I couldn't stop myself from looking back one last time.

This place I once thought would be my forever home now seemed like nothing more than a joke.

Reluctance? Resentment?

Both. But more than anything, there was the numbness of being hollowed out.

Just as I was about to turn and leave, another face flashed, unbidden, through my mind.

Not Zhou Chengyu, the man I’d just seen bare-chested.

It was the other man—the one from the restaurant, the one who had held Du Wanning with a steady arm, his eyes scrutinizing me.

*That* was the man she was engaged to.

So, who was Zhou Chengyu?

A huge, absurd mystery bloomed in the pit of my stomach, bringing with it a bone-deep chill. It felt as if I had never really known Du Wanning at all.