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墨書 Inktalez
"They... they said that Xiaoming is the son of a bankrupt boss, that they isolate him and bully him..." He paused, his voice choking, "I... I am sorry for him..."
I fell silent.
I could feel his emotions at this moment—the helplessness and despair that had once tormented me deeply.
The autumn sunlight fell on him, yet it could not warm his lonely figure.
Green vines climbed the walls of the kindergarten, gently swaying in the autumn breeze.
"I want... I want to make amends..." He looked up, his eyes filled with a hint of pleading. "I want to see Jiajia. I want to... make up for what I owe her..."
I looked at him, my heart filled with conflict.
I knew he owed Jiajia a lot, but how could I face him, face this broken marriage?
"I... I'll think about it." In the end, I still did not give him a clear answer.
Zhang Cheng nodded and said nothing more.
He turned and left, his footsteps heavy, his back desolate.
Watching him walk away, my heart ached.
When I returned home, I handed the picture book to Jiajia.
Jiajia curiously took the book and flipped through it, a naive smile spreading across her face.
"Mom, is this from Dad?" she asked, looking up at me.
I nodded, stroking her hair, my heart filled with mixed emotions.
A few days later, I received a call from Zhang Cheng.
He requested to meet with me, saying he had something very important to tell me.
I hesitated for a long time, but in the end, I agreed.
We arranged to meet at a café. Zhang Cheng looked even more haggard than the last time we met; his face was pale, and his eyes were sunken.
He ordered a cup of coffee but didn’t take a single sip. Instead, he kept stirring the coffee in his cup, the aroma wafting through the air.
Soft music played in the café, yet it couldn’t mask the anxiety that filled him.
“Jiajia… is she okay?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse.
“She’s fine,” I replied.
He fell silent for a moment, then looked up at me, his eyes filled with guilt and self-reproach.
“I… I want to make up for what I owe you both…”
I stared at him without saying a word.
“I know I’ve done many wrong things in the past…” he continued, “I abandoned you, abandoned Jiajia… I’m sorry for what I did…” He lowered his head, his hands tightly clasped together, knuckles turning white.
Outside the café’s floor-to-ceiling windows, cars rushed by and people came and went.
Sunlight streamed through the glass, illuminating Zhang Cheng’s face and accentuating his worn appearance.
“I want… I want to start over…” He raised his head to look at me, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “I want to make up for what I owe Jiajia…”
I took a deep breath, looking at him with calm determination. “Zhang Cheng, it’s over between us. There’s no way I can start again with you.”
His face turned pale, and the hope in his eyes shattered instantly.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end, nothing came out.
He lowered his head, remaining silent for a long time, then stood up and left the café.
I knew he wanted to make amends, but some wounds can never be healed.
A few days later, I took Jiajia to the mall to buy clothes when we unexpectedly ran into Zhang Cheng.
He looked even more haggard than the last time we met, with unshaven stubble and wrinkled clothes.
"Wen Jing..." he called out to me, his voice hoarse.
Jiajia instinctively hid behind me upon seeing him, clutching my shirt tightly.
Zhang Cheng noticed Jiajia's reaction, and a flash of pain crossed his eyes.
He took a deep breath and stepped in front of me. "Wen Jing, I... I'm at my wit's end." As he spoke, he suddenly knelt down with a thud. The bustling crowd in the mall paused to watch.
I was taken aback, the murmurs around me buzzing like a swarm of bees in my ears.
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