in front of our one-room flat. My buddies insisted that I carry her out
of the car in my arms. So I carried her into our home. She was then plump
and shy. I was a strong and happy bridegroom.
This was the scene of ten years ago.
The following days were as simple as a cup of pure water: we had a kid, I
went into business and tried to make more money. When the assets were
steadily increasing, the affections between us seemed to ebb. She was a
civil servant. Every morning we left home together and got home almost at
the same time. Our kid was studying in a boarding school.
Our marriage life seemed to be enviably happy. But the calm life was more
likely to be affected by unpredictable changes.
Dew came into my life.
It was a sunny day. I stood on a spacious balcony. Dew hugged me from
behind. My heart once again was immersed in her stream of love. This was
the apartment I bought for her.
Dew said, “You are the kind of man who best draws girls’ eyeballs. Her
words suddenly reminded me of my wife. When we just married, my wife
said, “Men like you, once successful, will be very attractive to girls.”
Thinking of this, I became somewhat hesitant. I knew I had betrayed my
wife. But I couldn’t help doing so.
I moved Dew’s hands aside and said,” You go to select some furniture,
O.K.? I’ve got something to do in the company.” Obviously she was
unhappy, because I had promised her to go and see with her. At the
moment, the idea of divorce became clearer in my mind although it used to
be something impossible to me.
However, I found it rather difficult to tell my wife about it. No matter
how mildly I mentioned it to her, she would be deeply hurt. Honestly, she
was a good wife. Every evening she was busy preparing dinner. I was
sitting in front of the TV. The dinner was ready soon. Then we watched TV
together. Or, I was lounging before the computer, visualizing Dew’s body.
This was the means of my entertainment.
One day I said to her in a slight joking way, “suppose we divorce, what
will you do?” She stared at me for a few seconds without a word.
Apparently she believed that ‘divorce’ was something too far away from
her. I couldn’t imagine how she would react once she got to know I was
serious.
When my wife went to my office, Dew had just stepped out. Almost all the
staff looked at my wife with a sympathetic eye and tried to hide
something while talking with her. She seemed to have got some hint. She
gently smiled at my subordinates. But I read some hurt in her eyes.
Once again, Dew said to me, “He Ning, divorce her, O.K.? Then we live
together.” I nodded. I knew I could not hesitate any more.
When my wife served the last dish, I held her hand. “I’ve got something
to tell you,” I said.
She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.
Suddenly I didn’t know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know
what I was thinking. “I want to divorce.” I raised a serious topic
calmly.
She didn’t seem to be much annoyed by my words, instead she asked me
softly, “why?”. “I’m serious.” I avoided her question. This so-called
answer turned her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me,
“you are not a man!”.
At that night, we didn’t talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she
wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly
give her a satisfactory answer, because my heart had gone to Dew.
With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated
that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She
glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. I felt a pain in my heart.
The woman who had been living ten years with me would become a stranger
one day. But I could not take back what I had said.
Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to
see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce
which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer.
A late night, I came back home after entertaining my clients. I saw her
writing something at the table. I fell asleep fast. When I woke up, I
found she was still there. I turned over and was asleep again.
She brought up her divorce conditions: she didn’t want anything from me,
but I was supposed to give her one month’s time before divorce, and in
the month’s time we must live as normal life as possible. Her reason was
simple: our son would finish his summer vacation a month later and she
didn’t want him to see our marriage was broken.
She passed me the agreement she drafted, and then asked me, “He Ning,
do you still remember how I entered our bridal room on the wedding day?”
This question suddenly brought back all those wonderful memories to me. I
nodded and said, “I remember”. “You carried me in your arms”, she
continued, “so, I have a requirement, that is, you carry me out in your
arms on the day when we divorce. From now to the end of this month, you
must carry me out from the bedroom to the door every morning.”
I accepted with a smile. I knew she missed those sweet days and wished to
end her marriage with a romantic form.
I told Dew about my wife’s divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and
thought it was absurd. “No matter what tricks she does, she has to face
the result of divorce,” she said scornfully. Her words more or less made
me feel uncomfortable.
My wife and I hadn’t had any body contact since my divorce intention was
explicitly expressed. We even treated each other as a stranger. So when I
carried her out for the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son
clapped behind us, “daddy is holding mummy in his arms.” His words
brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to
the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her
eyes and said softly, “Let us start from today, don’t tell our son.” I
nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went
to wait for bus, I drove to office.
On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my
chest. We were so close that I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I
realized that I hadn’t looked at this intimate woman carefully for a long
time. I found she was not young any more. There were some fine wrinkles
on her face.
On the third day, she whispered to me, “The outside garden is being
demolished. Be careful when you pass there.”
On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I seemed to feel that we were
still an intimate couple and I was holding my sweetheart in my arms. The
visualization of Dew became vaguer.
On the fifth and sixth day, she kept reminding me something, such as,
where she put the ironed shirts, I should be careful while cooking, etc.
I nodded. The sense of intimacy was even stronger.
I didn’t tell Dew about this.
I felt it was easier to carry her. Perhaps the everyday workout made me
stronger. I said to her, “It seems not difficult to carry you now.”
She was picking her dresses. I was waiting to carry her out. She tried
quite a few but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, “All my
dresses have grown fatter.” I smiled. But I suddenly realized that it was
because she was thinner that I could carry her more easily, not because I
was stronger. I knew she had buried all the bitterness in her heart.
Again, I felt a sense of pain. Subconsciously I reached out a hand to
touch her head.
Our son came in at the moment. “Dad, it’s time to carry mum out.” He
said. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had been an
essential part of his life. She gestured our son to come closer and
hugged him tightly. I turned my face because I was afraid I would change
my mind at the last minute. I held her in my arms, walking from the
bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my
neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly, as if we came back to
our wedding day. But her much lighter weight made me sad.
On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step.
Our son had gone to school. She said, “Actually I hope you will hold me
in your arms until we are old.”
I held her tightly and said, “Both you and I didn’t notice that our life
was lack of such intimacy.”
I jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid
any delay would make me change my decision. I walked upstairs. Dew opened
the door. I said to her, “Sorry, Dew, I won’t divorce. I’m serious.”
She looked at me, astonished. The she touched my forehead. “You got no
fever.” She said. I moved her hand off my head. “Sorry, Dew,” I said, “I
can only say sorry to you, I won’t divorce. My marriage life was boring
probably because she and I didn’t value the details of life, not because
we didn’t love each other any more. Now I understand that since I carried
her into the home, she gave birth to our child, I am supposed to hold her
until I am old. So I have to say sorry to you.”
Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed
the door and burst into cry. I walked downstairs and drove to the office.
When I passed the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet for my wife
which was her favorite. The salesgirl asked me to write the greeting
words on the card. I smiled and wrote, “I’ll carry you out every morning
until we are old.”
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