In the last month, he still chose his first love
Chapter 3
I screamed like a madwoman.
“Chase, tell them to stop. Now!”
But they would not listen to me.
I tried to chase after him, to grab hold of him.
Yet his eyes and heart held only Emma. As he carried her out, his elbow slammed hard into me.
I fell to the ground. My forehead struck the corner of the table.
Tears fell, one by one, onto the cold screen.
Too late.
It was already too late.
On camera, the ashes were poured down from the ship.
Against the biting sea wind, they scattered, little by little, vanishing into the surging waves.
In that instant, my heart felt as if it were torn apart alive.
My mother had always been afraid of the cold.
She hated the freezing sea more than anything.
And now, not only had she died there, she would be trapped there forever.
“Mom, I’m sorry…”
I cried until I broke down completely.
At that moment, regret consumed me.
I regretted falling in love with Chase.
I regretted marrying him.
I drafted the divorce agreement. It would take effect soon.
Just after finishing it, my phone vibrated. A text from the hospital reminded me that I had an upcoming prenatal checkup.
This would most likely be my last one.
When I stepped outside, I saw the doorway piled high with packages.
Large and small, stacked neatly.
I glanced at them casually.
Cement, steel bars, timber.
At a glance, it was obvious they were materials for building an underground bunker for the so called apocalypse.
I suddenly felt like laughing.
He moved fast.
So fast that it made me suspect he had long been eager to build this so called love nest with Joyce.
I did not even dare imagine what a Peking University astronomy professor would look like, sleeves rolled up, hauling bricks and laying stones.
But not long after, I actually saw it.
Joyce posted another update, without the slightest restraint.
“Little bunker. Our home after finding our way back to each other.”
In the video, Chase looked nothing like the meticulous man I remembered, the one who would press every crease out of his shirts.
His face was smeared with dirt, his hair a mess, squatting inside a pit and digging.
As he dug, he spoke to her gently.
“Joyce, don’t be afraid.”
“When the world really ends in one month later, we won’t die either.”
In that moment, I finally understood what blinding pain meant.
Beside him, Felix struggled to pass him bricks.
Father and son, one squatting, one bent over, the scene absurd and ridiculous.
I watched and watched, and somehow started laughing.
But as I laughed, my face slowly grew wet.
So he really was willing.
For Joyce, he would give everything.
Even at the end of the world, he would still give her a home.
And I had nothing.
When I filled out the divorce agreement, it was not that I had never thought about it.
About taking every last bit of the modest income in the accounts and leaving him with nothing.
But after calming down, it felt unnecessary.
Aside from the title of Peking University astronomy professor, all Chase really had left was his self righteous pride and foul temper.
If I truly left him with nothing, he probably would not even be able to raise our son.
The car was provided by the university.
The furniture was secondhand.
The house was rented.
Back when our relationship was at its best, it was not that I had never suggested buying a home.
I had even planned it seriously.
Little by little, personally building a place that belonged to the three of us.
“I can pay in full.”
“The deed can have only your name on it.”
But he always thought I was joking.
He would even lecture me in that utterly natural tone of his.
“Don’t let yourself be tied down by worldly things.”
“A house is just a place to sleep. There’s no need to obsess over it.”
He never understood.
Money had never been a problem for me.
Across the capital’s elite circles, the properties my grandfather had arranged for me were so many that even I could not remember them all.
What I wanted was never a house.
What I wanted was a small home that had something to do with him.
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