On my wedding day, I carried my wife in my arms.
The bridal car stopped in front of our one-room flat. My
buddies insisted that I carry her out of the car in my
arms. So I carried her into our home. She was then
plump and shy. I was a strong and happy bridegroom.
This was the scene of ten years ago.
The following days were as simple as a cup of pure
water:we had a kid, I went into business and tried to make
more money. When the assets were steadily increasing,
the affections between us seemed to ebb. She was a
civil servant. Every morning we left home together and
got home almost at the same time. Our kid was studying
in a boarding school.
Our marriage life seemed to be enviably happy. But the
calm life was more likely to be affected by
unpredictable changes. Dew came into my life.
It was a sunny day. I stood on a spacious balcony. Dew
hugged me from behind. My heart once again was
immersed in her stream of love. This was the apartment
I bought for her.
Dew said, "You are the kind of man who best draws
girls' eyeballs. Her words suddenly reminded me of my
wife. When we just married, my wife said, "Men like
you, once successful, will be very attractive to
girls." Thinking of this, I became somewhat hesitant.
I knew I had betrayed my wife. But I couldn't help
doing so.
I moved Dew's hands aside and said," You go to select
some furniture, O.K.? I've got something to do in the
company." Obviously she was unhappy, because I had
promised her to go and see with her. At the moment,
the idea of divorce became clearer in my mind although
it used to be something impossible to me.
However, I found it rather difficult to tell my wife
about it. No matter how mildly I mentioned it to her,
she would be deeply hurt. Honestly, she was a good
wife. Every evening she was busy preparing dinner.
I was sitting in front of the TV. The dinner was ready
soon. Then we watched TV together. Or, I was lounging
before the computer, visualizing Dew's body. This was
the means of my entertainment.
One day I said to her in a slight joking way, "Suppose
we divorce, what will you do?" She stared at me for a
few seconds without a word. Apparently she believed
that 'divorce' was something too far away from her. I
couldn't imagine how she would react once she got to
know I was serious.
When my wife went to my office, Dew had just stepped
out. Almost all the staff looked at my wife with a
sympathetic eye and tried to hide something while
talking with her. She seemed to have got some hint.
She gently smiled at my subordinates. But I read some
hurt in her eyes.
Once again, Dew said to me, "He Ning, divorce her,
O.K.? Then we live together." I nodded. I knew I could
not hesitate any more. When my wife served the last
dish, I held her hand. "I've got something to tell
you," I said.
She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the
hurt in her eyes. Suddenly I didn't know how to open
my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was
thinking. "I want to divorce." I raised a serious
topic calmly.
She didn't seem to be much annoyed by my words,
instead she asked me softly, "why?". "I'm serious." I
avoided her question. This so-called answer turned her
angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at
me, "you are not a man!".
At that night, we didn't talk to each other. She was
weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had
happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her
a satisfactory answer, because my heart had gone to
Dew.
With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce
agreement which stated that she could own our house,
our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at
it and then tore it into pieces. I felt a pain in my
heart. The woman who had been living ten years with me
would become a stranger one day. But I could not take
back what I had said.
Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was
what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually
a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had
obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and
clearer.
A late night, I came back home after entertaining my
clients. I saw her writing something at the table. I
fell asleep fast. When I woke up, I found she was
still there. I turned over and was asleep again. She
brought up her divorce conditions: she didn't want
anything from me, but I was supposed to give her one
month's time before divorce, and in the month's time
we must live as normal life as possible. Her reason
was simple: our son would finish his summer vacation a
month later and she didn't want him to see our
marriage was broken.
She passed me the agreement she drafted, and then
asked me, "He Ning, do you still remember how I
entered our bridal room on the wedding day?" This
question suddenly brought back all those wonderful
memories to me. I nodded and said, "I remember". "You
carried me in your arms", she continued, "so, I have a
requirement, that is, you carry me out in your arms on
the day when we divorce. From now to the end of this
month, you must carry me out from the bedroom to the
door every morning." I accepted with a smile. I knew
she missed those sweet days and wished to end her
marriage with a romantic form.
I told Dew about my wife's divorce conditions. She
laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. "No matter
what tricks she does, she has to face the result of
divorce," she said scornfully. Her words more or less
made me feel uncomfortable.
My wife and I hadn't had any body contact since my
divorce intention was explicitly expressed. We even
treated each other as a stranger. So when I carried
her out for the first day, we both appeared clumsy.
Our son clapped behind us, "daddy is holding mummy in
his arms." His words brought me a sense of pain. From
the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I
walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed
her eyes and said softly, "Let us start from today, don't tell our son."
I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door.
She went to wait for bus, I drove to office.
On the second day, both of us acted much more easily.
She leaned on my chest. We were so close that I could
smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I
hadn't looked at this intimate woman carefully for a
long time. I found she was not young any more. There
were some fine wrinkles on her face.
On the third day, she whispered to me, "The outside
garden is being demolished. Be careful when you pass
there." On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I
seemed to feel that we were still an intimate couple
and I was holding my sweetheart in my arms. The
visualization of Dew became vaguer.
On the fifth and sixth day, she kept reminding me
something, such as, where she put the ironed shirts, I
should be careful while cooking, etc. I nodded. The
sense of intimacy was even stronger.
I didn't tell Dew about this.
I felt it was easier to carry her. Perhaps the
everyday workout made me stronger. I said to her, "It
seems not difficult to carry you now."
She was picking her dresses. I was waiting to carry
her out. She tried quite a few but could not find a
suitable one. Then she sighed, "All my dresses have
grown fatter." I smiled. But I suddenly realized that
it was because she was thinner that I could carry her
more easily, not because I was stronger. I knew she
had buried all the bitterness in her heart. Again, I
felt a sense of pain. Subconsciously I reached out a
hand to touch her head.
Our son came in at the moment. "Dad, it's time to
carry mum out." He said. To him, seeing his father
carrying his mother out had been an essential part of
his life. She gestured our son to come closer and
hugged him tightly. I turned my face because I was
afraid I would change my mind at the last minute. I
held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through
the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded
my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly,
as if we came back to our wedding day. But her much
lighter weight made me sad.
On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could
hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. She
said, "Actually I hope you will hold me in your arms
until we are old."
I held her tightly and said, "Both you and I didn't
notice that our life was lack of such intimacy." I
jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the
door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my
decision. I walked upstairs. Dew opened the door. I
said to her, "Sorry, Dew, I won't divorce. I'm
serious."
She looked at me, astonished. The she touched my
forehead. "You got no fever." She said. I moved her
hand off my head. "Sorry, Dew," I said, "I can only
say sorry to you, I won't divorce. My marriage life
was boring probably because she and I didn't value the
details of life, not because we didn't love each other
any more. Now I understand that since I carried her
into the home, she gave birth to our child, I am
supposed to hold her until I am old. So I have to say
sorry to you."
Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud
slap and then slammed the door and burst into cry. I
walked downstairs and drove to the office.
When I passed the floral shop on the way, I ordered a
bouquet for my wife which was her favorite. The
salesgirl asked me to write the greeting words on the
card. I smiled and wrote, "I'll carry you out every
morning until we are old."
