The Beauty Mark

It is said that people with a tear-shaped birthmark are destined to be trapped by emotions and weighed down by love throughout their lives. And I have one. I've never liked it and wanted to get rid of it. But Arlon insisted it was a creator's favor towards me, and he liked it very much, so I decided to keep it. We knew each other for over a decade, loved each other for six years, but our marriage lasted only one day. "Vicky, you're disgusting." That's how Arlon, whom I loved for six years, described me. Ever since Arlon and I registered our marriage on the 6th and finalized our divorce on the 7th, we became the topic of discussion in our university class group. The 6th was supposed to be our sixth anniversary. And after the 7th, we haven't seen each other for two years. "Vicky, are you coming to the class reunion tomorrow night?" I had just returned from a night shift at the convenience store and was about to sleep when I saw the message in the group. I was exhausted and didn't want to respond. But they were persistent, and my phone kept buzzing, so I half-closed my eyes and replied, "Working, no time, not going." "Come on, everyone misses you." "You're not afraid of seeing Arlon, are you? Don't worry, he's not in this group, he won't be there." Arlon's name made my eyes snap open, and my heart trembled. "I haven't done anything wrong, what am I afraid of? I'll be there on time tomorrow, I won't leave until I'm thoroughly drunk." I was a bit annoyed with myself, just a name, and it could unsettle me. I frowned and drifted into sleep. In my dream, I saw Arlon at 20. He used his first scholarship to buy me a ring, and I joked that it was too early. He said it wasn't, that he would marry no one but me. Marry no one but me. We tried hard, but it was like moths drawn to a flame. At the reunion, I drank a lot, and seeing me tipsy, a few classmates started probing me. "Vicky, tell us, what's the deal with you and Arlon? You two were like one person back then, how did it turn into enemies now?" "Yeah, did that guy find someone better and ditch you?" I chuckled foolishly, defiantly, "I was the one who ditched him, okay!" Just as they were about to ask more, the door to the private room was suddenly pushed open, and the noise stopped abruptly when they saw who it was. Arlon stood at the door with a sullen face, holding a suitcase, as if he had just rushed back from somewhere. And there I was, holding a wine glass in one hand, with my arm around a male classmate. It was a scene of being caught red-handed, just like back then. "Arlon... you... why are you here?" The class monitor instinctively withdrew his hand from my shoulder. I glared at him, "Why are you stammering? You sound guilty." "I just happened to hear about it, so I came." Arlon's voice was still as magnetic as ever. The class rep hurried over to find him a seat. Fueled by the alcohol, I couldn't help sneaking a few glances at him, but he just kept eating without even looking up. He probably didn't want to see me anyway. After the meal, I turned down my classmates' offer to walk me home. They glanced at Arlon, who stood like a guardian not far behind me, and didn't insist, leaving one by one. I resisted the urge to look back and raised my hand to hail a taxi. Just as I was about to open the car door, Arlon grabbed my arm. "Sit in the back." Arlon smoothly pushed me into the back seat, then hesitated before taking the front passenger seat. "Where to?" asked the driver. Arlon smoothly gave his address. As the driver shifted gears, Arlon stayed silent, so I had to break the silence. "Arlon, I don't live at your place now." I saw Arlon's shoulders tremble, his body stiffening. "Where do you live now?" he asked, his voice deep. I didn't expect him to get out of the car with me. Arlon looked at the dilapidated apartment building in front of us and spoke disdainfully: "You live here after leaving me?" "Yes." I didn't want to argue, just wanted to leave quickly. Though I used to be lively, being alone with him now always made me feel oppressed. "Karma," Arlon said, clearly not ready to let it go. I stopped in my tracks, turning back angrily. "Arlon, enough! Did you come here today just to humiliate me? You've seen it now, are you satisfied? I have nothing to do with your family anymore. I'm not the poor student your mom sponsored, and I'm not your wife anymore!" Anger flickered on Arlon's face, "So what! If I hadn't come today, I wouldn't have heard your brazen reasons for our breakup!" "What? Is your lover waiting upstairs? Should I go up and meet him too?" "Slap— I hit him hard across the face." "Arlon, you weren't like this before." "Vicky, I didn't expect you to be like this either." "Arlon, just leave." Tears in my eyes, I told him to leave. Watching him walk away, I couldn't help but worry. His heart's always been weak; I shouldn't have argued with him. I lay on the bed, tears streaming uncontrollably from my eyes. I still remember the first time I met Arlon. He was just a teenager, wearing an oversized school uniform, his face a little pale. His mother introduced me to him, saying she had brought me back from the orphanage and that I would be living with them, and she would always support my education. I was two years younger than him, and he said he would protect me. But as a wealthy young master with poor health, he often didn't fit in and was bullied by classmates. I was always the one standing up for him, often ending up with bruises myself. He said that once he recovered, he would definitely protect me from being bullied by anyone. The more I thought about it, the more wronged I felt. Arlon, even you're treating me unfairly. I closed my eyes, feeling increasingly drowsy, eventually throwing up twice, but my stomach only hurt more. "Damn it, I shouldn't have drunk." For the past two years, I've been working during the day and doing part-time jobs at night, which has resulted in severe gastritis. After taking painkillers to no avail, I had to go to the emergency room. Seeing Arlon leaning back in the chair with his eyes closed, I thought I was still drunk. The nurse put me on an IV drip, and after struggling for a few minutes, I quietly moved to sit two seats away from him. "Are you okay..." I asked him softly. I knew he was definitely awake; he always slept lightly. "Not dying." He said coldly, "You... what's wrong?" "Gastritis, nothing serious." I said nonchalantly. He didn't say anything more. The atmosphere was a bit awkward, so I closed my eyes too, feeling a bit sleepy, and my stomach gradually stopped hurting. I didn't know when I fell asleep. When I woke up, the needle had been removed, and Arlon was gone, but his coat was draped over me. The faint smell of smoke on the coat was strangely comforting. I decided not to return it to him; he wouldn't miss one piece of clothing. Who would have thought I'd see Arlon again after work the next day. He was leaning against the mottled wall, completely out of place with the dilapidated apartment building behind him. "I'm here to get my coat." It felt like seeing a ghost. "Have you eaten?" I asked, watching Arlon as he looked around my tiny room, which was only a few square meters. "No." "Oh." I took some vegetables and meat from the fridge and prepared three dishes and a soup. When the food was served, he still hadn't left. The place was too small, with no room for chairs. I usually ate sitting on the edge of the bed, but with Arlon sitting, there was no space for me. "You eat first, I'm not hungry." I looked at the small space, still not having the courage to sit next to him. Arlon moved in a bit, "Join me, unless you want your stomach to ache again?" I hesitated for a moment and sat down, trying to avoid touching Arlon. "Have some soup." He ladled a bowl of soup and pushed it towards me. If it weren't for his slightly stiff tone, I might have felt like I was slipping back into the past. I never really liked soup, but Arlon loved it. He would always smile and serve me a bowl, and gradually, I couldn't do without it. I dared not reminisce, for each memory brought a sharp pang, like a heavy hammer striking my chest. Worried Arlon might notice something was wrong, I hurriedly gulped down the soup, trying to quell the unease in my heart. Unexpectedly, he served me another bowl. "Arlon, what's this supposed to mean?" I finally couldn't hold back. He didn't look at me, "Let's eat first." Considering his health, I didn't say more. After the meal, I returned his coat to him, "Goodbye." Arlon clutched his coat, silent, then slowly got up and walked to the door. Just as I was about to close the door, I heard his hoarse voice. "Do you still want to see me again?" My heart seemed to skip a beat. "Arlon, have you lost your memory?" I forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. "Two years ago, wasn't it you who said you never wanted to see me again, wasn't it you who said I was disgusting?" Arlon finally looked at me, his eyes brimming with complex emotions. "Arlon, I no longer accept your family's charity. We ended completely two years ago." I said through gritted teeth. I could feel my hands turning cold, trembling uncontrollably. "Vicky, you're just as heartless as you were two years ago." Arlon's expression slowly darkened, seemingly dissatisfied with my response. I let out a bitter laugh, "Yeah, didn't you catch me with someone else?" He seemed a bit angry, rushing over to grip my shoulders. "Vicky, I don't believe it! I don't believe it! We were together for six years." I saw his face filled with anger, yet his voice trembled. I bit my lip hard, unable to stop the tears from flowing. His words were like a dull knife, cutting into my heart bit by bit. He doesn't believe it. I looked up into his eyes, "I don't believe you. Arlon, why didn't you say this two years ago?"