Seven Years of Winter Before Spring

Wendy did not go back to the hospital. She left and took a cab home.

By the time Miles pushed open the door that evening, Wendy had just finished packing her suitcase.

She did not look up. “Belinda broke three bowls again today. She said I’m not as thoughtful as Vivian.”

Miles loosened his tie. His voice was tinged with impatience. “She’s been bedridden for two years. Of course her temper’s foul. Just give her some space—what’s the big deal?”

“Space?” Wendy suddenly chuckled. She grabbed the dress stained with soup from earlier. “She did that on purpose this morning.”

“Enough!” Miles snatched the dress from her and tossed it onto the bed. “Wendy, you weren’t like this before!”

“Like what?” Wendy sprang to her feet. Her eyes burned with emotion. “Like getting up at five every morning to make breakfast for your mother? Or kneeling on the floor, scrubbing, while she called me a curse?”

Miles swallowed hard, turning his face away. “You know why my mother ended up bedridden.”

The room went silent.

Wendy’s fingers dug into her palms.

That phone call.

Two years ago that evening, barely moments after they had been together in bed, Miles’ mother called.

“Don’t answer it.” Wendy stood barefoot on the carpet, arms wrapped around his waist. “It’s our wedding anniversary tonight…”

Miles hesitated for a moment, then leaned down and kissed her. “Just for a minute.”

“You always say that!” snapped Wendy, grabbing the phone and throwing it to the floor. “How many times has she pretended to be sick? If you answer this call tonight, we’re done!”

She remembered the look in his eyes then. There was shock, helplessness, and finally, compromise.

He let out a sigh, picked up the phone, set it aside, and held her in his arms. “Okay. I won’t answer.”

However, the next day, they found out that Belinda had a sudden cerebral hemorrhage that night. No one answered her call, so the treatment was delayed, and she ended up paralyzed.

“Yes, I owe her,” Wendy admitted in a hoarse voice. “That’s why I’ve worked myself to the bone for the past two years. Do I deserve to have food thrown on me, and deserve to be treated like a servant by Vivian?”

Miles ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Vivian’s moving in tomorrow.”

“What?”

“My mom likes her.” Miles' tone softened, like he was coaxing a child. “Just for a few months, until her condition stabilizes, then Vivian will move out.”

Wendy interrupted in a soft voice, “Miles, I went to the civil affairs office today.”

His body stiffened.

“The staff told me we still have seven days left before our divorce is finalized.” She stared at his frozen expression. “The papers you had me sign a month ago were actually a divorce agreement?”

“So you know!” Miles grabbed her wrist. “But my mother forced me into it. I'm only doing it to keep her happy for now!”

“Without even telling me?” Wendy yanked her hand free. “Seven years together, and I didn’t even have the right to know?”

Miles flew into a rage. “Can you stop being so aggressive? Do you know how hard it is to be stuck in the middle?”

Wendy froze for a moment.

She remembered the first time he had brought her home to meet his family. His mother had thrown soup on her in front of him. “The Carter family’s daughter-in-law will only ever be Vivian.”

That night, Miles held her in his arms on the balcony and apologized. “My mom has a bad temper. Please bear with her. It’s hard for me to be in the middle.”

Later, when Belinda refused to attend the wedding, he held her hand and said, “She just can’t accept it yet. Let’s give her some time.”

When Belinda became paralyzed, he knelt and begged her to quit her job and take care of her. “Wendy, you’re the only one who can help me now.”

Each time, she gave in.

“Miles.” Wendy suddenly felt exhausted. “Do you still love me?”

Miles hesitated for a moment, then blurted out, “Of course I do!”

“Please don’t put me in a difficult position, Wendy.”

Wendy let out a sigh. Only seven days left anyway, she would just let it be.

She nodded silently.

“Vivian will sleep in the guest room,” Miles awkwardly changed the subject, “You should get some rest.”

Once the door was closed, Wendy sank onto the bed.

Moonlight streamed through the curtains, and she noticed the dusty photo frame on the nightstand.

In the photo, Miles was carrying her on the beach. Waves splashed her skirt as he turned and smiled, “Hold on tight, Mrs. Carter!”

Seven years of love were just like a bubble.

She pulled out her phone and sent a message: [Pick me up in seven days, as planned.]

No sooner had she pressed send than a deafening bang echoed from downstairs.