I thought I had moved on from Xiao Jue, but seeing him again brought back the most painful memories. I couldn’t accept it, especially seeing him so happy.
Gao Hai Ming remained quiet the entire time.
“Let’s go. I need to get back to work,” I said.
He accompanied me to the elevator.
“You’ve never really forgotten him,” he said.
“I hate him,” I replied.
“You have to have loved someone deeply to hate them this much.”
I said nothing.
“You’ve never loved me,” he said.
“Nonsense!” I protested.
“Why can’t you let him go?” he asked sorrowfully.
“Yes, I can’t let him go. He was my first,” I said.
“That’s the only reason?”
“Isn’t that enough? If not, let me tell you—he was my everything.”
He gazed at me, heartbroken.
“You’re right. Love is like drinking poison with a smile, and I’d rather drink this cup of poison,” I said stubbornly.
“He doesn’t love you anymore.”
“Who are you to say that? What does this have to do with you?” I blurted out.
“I thought I was your boyfriend,” he said bitterly.
“You and I together wouldn’t create the bright blue you dream of. We’re two incompatible substances. Let’s end this,” I said.
The elevator arrived. I stepped out while he stayed inside, looking at me dejectedly.
“Am I really that bad?” he asked, leaning against the elevator door.
“I’m the one who can’t match you. I’m sorry. I can’t love you,” I said.
“I understand.”
“I’m sorry,” I said as I turned to leave.
“Goodbye,” I heard him say.
“Goodbye,” I replied without looking back.
A few days passed, and he didn’t call again.
Did he ever understand that it was a relationship spanning ten years?
That night, while organizing my drawer, I found the 32 jars of “air” and the Christmas stocking he had given me.
I called him, but his housekeeper said he had left Hong Kong. Why hadn’t he told me?
“Do you know where he went?” I asked.
“Mr. Gao didn’t say,” she replied.
I called Le’er in Japan. She said he hadn’t contacted her.
“If he does, call me immediately,” I told her.
“Big sister, did you and Brother Hai Ming have a fight?” Le’er asked.
“We didn’t fight,” I said.
Days later, I called Le’er again.
“He hasn’t been here. Maybe he didn’t go to Japan,” Le’er said.
Where had he gone? Why had he left without a word?
A week later, I called his secretary.
“Mr. Gao hasn’t returned. He won’t be coming back anytime soon,” she said.
I froze. “Why?”
“He’s resigned as president,” she replied.
What had happened? I kept paging him and calling his home, but I couldn’t reach him.
Where had he gone?
I shouldn’t have treated him like that that day, but he should have given me a chance to apologize.
A week later, late at night, I finally received a call from him.
“Where have you been?” I asked.
“I’m not coming back,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t love me.”
“I do love you.”
“Don’t lie to yourself.”
“Come back, and we can talk—”
“You never loved me, not even for a moment.”
I fell silent.
“I can’t bear to look at you anymore,” he said with a sigh.
“You’re just like him. In the end, you’ve abandoned me too,” I said angrily.
“You know I’m not like that. Take care of yourself while I’m gone,” he replied.
Then he hung up.
And just like that, he was gone. He never called again.
“He loves me. He’ll come back soon,” I reassured myself. He was my lifeline; he couldn’t leave me at a time like this.
I went to his house, and his Filipino maid let me in.
“Mr. Gao hasn’t been home for a long time,” she said.
“Can I take a look at his room?” I asked.
“Please, feel free,” she said.
I walked into Gao Hai Ming’s bedroom. The Wild Weasel fighter jet model was still on his bedside table—he hadn’t taken it with him.
The ten models I had built were neatly arranged on the shelf, from the first one to the most recent, completed just last month.
His own models, however, were nowhere to be found.
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