“Bless you?” Chen Qiao Luo laughed bitterly, his voice filled with despair. “Do you know how many years I’ve loved her? For all these years, I’ve dreamed of being with her. And you—Xu Xuan—you were the brother I admired the most, but what have you done? You took away the person I love most and now you want me to bless you?”
His voice grew louder, like a roar, each word crashing down on me with unbearable weight. I felt a stabbing pain in my stomach and instinctively gripped Xu Xuan’s hand. Just as I was about to speak, my vision went dark, and I lost consciousness. In that moment, I thought I heard someone calling me—from somewhere far away.
When I woke up, I was staring at the white ceiling of a hospital room. Looking around, I saw that the room was empty. My throat felt parched, and I struggled to sit up to reach for the cup on the cabinet, accidentally knocking over some other items.
The clatter brought both Chen Qiao Luo and Xu Xuan rushing in from outside. When they saw me sitting up, they hurried over, asking anxiously, “Yun Hao, are you okay?”
I shook my head.
Xu Xuan stepped back and glanced at Chen Qiao Luo before saying, “You two should talk.”
From his demeanor, I understood that Chen Qiao Luo now knew about my illness.
After Xu Xuan left, the room fell into a heavy silence.
After what felt like forever, Chen Qiao Luo finally spoke, his voice slow and measured: “Xu Xuan just told me. So, that’s why you didn’t come to the train station that day—you were sick.”
I said nothing, remaining silent.
He gave a bitter smile, reached out to take my left hand, and held it in his palm. “I really am such a fool. Back then, I could already sense your feelings, but my own insecurities made me doubt them. And in the end, I let all this time slip by.”
He continued, his voice trembling: “Yun Hao, it’s all my fault. I can’t even imagine how you managed to endure everything on your own all this time. There are things I’ve never told you until now. In front of you, I’ve always felt small. Maybe that’s what it means to love someone—to constantly second-guess yourself. Before confessing my feelings, I was terrified that telling you would ruin our friendship. But after confessing, I regretted it, thinking that staying friends might have let me stay by your side forever.
“While I was away from you, I thought about so many things. In the dead of night, I would always see your smile in my mind—it’s so beautiful.
“All this time, I wondered if I wasn’t good enough for you, and that’s why you didn’t like me. So I worked hard to become better, telling myself that the next time I saw you, I’d be someone worthy of you. But fate loves to play cruel jokes. When Xu Xuan told me about your illness, that you left me because you loved me, I realized how foolish I’ve been. I spent so much time trying to change myself, but I forgot to be there for you.”
His tears fell, one after another, onto the back of my hand, and a wave of unbearable pain surged in my heart. I sniffled, trying to hold back my own tears, but in the end, I couldn’t stop myself. I threw my arms around him and sobbed uncontrollably.
Chen Qiao Luo sobbed, repeatedly whispering, “I’m sorry.”
We clung to each other like drowning people grasping at a piece of driftwood, neither willing to let go.
In the end, I didn’t go to the United States. Seeing the sadness in my father’s eyes, I called my mother to tell her my decision. After spending a few more days in the hospital, I returned home.
During this time, Chen Qiao Luo and I laid our feelings bare. Neither of us brought up being in a relationship, but somehow, that no longer seemed important.
0 Comments