But the accumulation of these tiny transgressions had nurtured a greedy heart, one that grew and expanded, never knowing restraint. And what abyss lay at the peak of this mountain of sins? I didn’t dare imagine.
It’s time to stop. If I keep playing this game, it’ll end badly.
Wiping the last traces of makeup from my face, I told myself this in the mirror.
After packing my bags, Hao Yi walked me to the dormitory entrance. He fiddled with his phone to book a ride, explaining that this remote area didn’t have passing cabs and required app-based services. Watching his fingers swipe across the screen, his face lit with a vibrancy I’d never seen in Taiwan. It was as if, in this land, there was nothing his phone couldn’t solve.
But, Hao Yi, I thought as I screamed silently inside, this little screen can barely hold onto me anymore. Even I can barely control myself. Do you know that?
Of course, Hao Yi couldn’t hear my thoughts. He didn’t even look up at me, and the truths buried in my heart would never make it into his tiny screen.
Within minutes, a taxi arrived. We got in and sat shoulder-to-shoulder. Hao Yi used his phone to send work emails and manage tasks, while I leaned gently against his shoulder, wishing the road to the airport would never end.
But once I boarded that plane back to Taipei, would I fall into the same cycle as before? Swinging between right and wrong, clarity and intoxication, fleeing only to draw closer again?
I was tired. This trip had to bring about a change. If Hao Yi’s focus on work left him without thoughts of marriage, then it was up to me to take the initiative.
“Hao Yi,” I began, summoning my courage. “My parents are coming to Taipei this weekend. I was thinking, since you’ll also be back, maybe we could invite your parents to join us for lunch? It’d be a good chance to talk about the wedding.”
“This weekend?” Hao Yi finally looked up from his phone, his face showing unease. “But... I’m not going back this weekend...”
“What? Did I hear you correctly?”
“But you were planning to come back this weekend, weren’t you?” I asked, baffled.
“Since you’ve already come to see me, and the weekend is just two days away, I figured we didn’t need to meet again so soon. So, I canceled the ticket,” he said casually.
It felt like my entire head had been struck with a heavy blow. The world spun around me.
The Hao Yi standing before me, speaking so nonchalantly, seemed completely different from the one who had just said he feared losing me. Could this be a misunderstanding? The Hao Yi I knew wouldn’t let me down like this—not before, not now, not ever...
“But this is important for us...” I began, trying to reason with him.
“I know,” he said, cutting me off. “But didn’t we agree to wait until things were more stable here in Shanghai before bringing it up with them?”
“And when will things be stable?” I asked, my patience wearing thin. “Can you give me a time frame, at least?”
Hao Yi looked out the window, silent for what felt like an eternity. Finally, he muttered a vague and dismissive response: “I don’t know. I’ll be back next week—let’s talk about it then, okay?”
At that moment, as if prearranged, the road to the airport came to an abrupt end.
“I see.” I nodded, drained of the energy to argue any further.
Dragging my suitcase into the airport terminal, I glanced up at the massive departure board displaying flights to destinations around the globe. On time, delayed, canceled—each flight carried the promise of an unknown future. The landscapes awaiting passengers after landing were mysteries that only they could uncover.
And yet, I felt I had already glimpsed what awaited me after I crossed the strait back to Taipei: a cycle of oscillation, intoxication, guilt, and reunions after fleeting escapes.
Goodbye, Shanghai.
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