By the time I got back to my old place, it was almost 2 pm. After paying the cabbie, I headed toward the building I used to live in. I wasn't in a hurry since it was the weekend. I'd just be a little late. Still, I had a pounding headache thinking about the $4,016 I owed Betsy. Even if I sold myself, I couldn't come up with that kind of dough.

When I got to the building, I was stunned. My luggage had been moved into the hallway. Some pieces couldn't fit and got soaked in the rain, including a pair of black leather shoes Jessica gave me ages ago.  

I tossed my umbrella aside, fished out my keys, and raced upstairs.  

I unlocked the door, kicked it open, and shouted angrily in the living room, "You bitch! Come out here!"

After cursing three times with no response, I kicked open the door to her room. It was empty.  

Seeing the spotless room and remembering my luggage getting rained on outside, I was fuming. I grabbed the blanket on her bed and threw it on the floor. Still upset, I flipped the mattress. Pillows and quilts were strewn all over the place.   

...   

After venting, I lit a cigarette in Betsy's room to calm down.  

Betsy suddenly appeared at the door, holding a mop and plastic bag full of groceries. She must have gone shopping.  

She glared at me. I grabbed the front of her shirt and yanked her into the room. I was so forceful she dropped the bag and mop, spilling more stuff on the floor. The once spotless room was instantly trashed because of my anger.  

I dragged her to the window and opened it so she could see my luggage getting soaked in the rain. "Are you out of your mind? Why did you throw my stuff out in the rain?"

Betsy broke free and said coldly, "You didn't show up, so I had someone move your stuff out. Got a problem?"  

"I was held up by something else. What's wrong with being a little late?"  

"You said you'd be here by a certain time." Betsy refused to budge, staring at me resolutely.  

"You're freaking unreasonable!" I was even angrier and raised my hand as if to hit her. 

I thought she'd instinctively dodge or close her eyes. But she just looked at me coldly without blinking.  

I put my hand down and glared at her. "Get my stuff back up here now, and I'll pretend this never happened."  

"I won't do it," Betsy said firmly, her pretty eyes glistening with tears.  

I nodded. "Not gonna do it, huh? ..."  

No sooner had I spoken than I threw the blankets and quilts out the window in a fit of anger and vengeance.  

In the wind and rain, the falling bedding looked lonely and innocent but also like deep or shallow scars ruthlessly torn open. I stared blankly, feeling some regret. I shouldn't have been so impulsive or treated this stubborn woman like that. Maybe those black leather shoes in the rain had provoked me. My heart twitched as I seemed to see my dead love for Jessica in the fading image of the shoes in the rainwater.   

...  

The bedding finally landed on the ground after alternating up and down. I said awkwardly to Betsy, "Now we're even!"  

Tears rolled down Betsy's fair face as she bit her lip and looked at me.  

Seeing the ravaged room, guilt suddenly filled me. But I still glared at Betsy and said, "I know you don't like or respect me. Yeah, I'm poor and useless. But that's absolutely no reason for you to disrespect me and my stuff. You're a woman. Today I'll show you some chivalry. I only threw your bedding out. Next time I'll throw you out too!"   

I took out the bank card she had given me yesterday and put it on the table. "I withdrew a total of $4,016 from the card. I've no money to pay you back now, but I'll figure out a way to return it as soon as possible."   

Tears swirled in Betsy's eyes. "You bastard, you're all liars who don't keep your word..."   

I was surprised to see her reaction. For a long moment, I couldn't figure out how I felt. Finally, I said, "I'm leaving. I'll pay you back the money I owe you, though it'll be late. But it's not like you said that I don't keep my promises."  

Betsy didn't respond and just looked at me resentfully.  

...

I left without knowing if Betsy was still crying. But I knew staying in that messy room I had trashed must have been unpleasant for her.  

Just as she had cursed me, I was indeed a jerk and beast, as Lea had called me. I was a beast who refused to control my emotions and a jerk who acted on impulse!

I flagged down a cab and moved my luggage to a sheltered bus stop. For now, I didn't know where to go. I didn't have enough money left for rent or a hotel, and borrowing money from David, the only person I was willing to ask, was out of the question. He was annoyed with me for not listening to him yesterday and refused to contact me for now.  

Yes, over the years, I had only borrowed money from David. I treated him as a confidant and didn't mind showing him my difficulties and destitution, but I wouldn't show others.  

It seemed I had suddenly been abandoned by the world!  

...  

I lit a cigarette and sat on the stone bench in the shelter, staring blankly at the passing vehicles.  

My life shouldn't have been like this. But for the past two years, I had lived as lonely and helpless as the silent buildings in this city. It was all because of that woman. I knew I would never have a chance to hold her hand again in this lifetime, yet I stubbornly couldn't get out of her tenderness or leave it behind.

The wind was chilly. I found a scarf in my bag and wrapped it around my neck, finally blocking the endless cold wind pouring into my chest.  

For the next hour, I just sat in the shelter, alternating between zoning out and smoking, two trivial things, until it got dark, and I truly felt the desire to be saved.  

The sudden ringing of my phone startled me. I wiped my face and took out my phone. The call was from Oldschool Dad.   

Oldschool Dad was my dad, stiff and taciturn. He had worked in the procurement department of a small to mid-sized state-owned enterprise for 15 years. In his first year, he became the deputy section chief. Fifteen years later, shockingly, he hadn't managed to drop the "deputy" title. That wasn't all. Although procurement was a department where people could get kickbacks, in 15 years, Dad astonishingly hadn't taken a single gift or penny. His incorruptible integrity earned him the nickname "Section Chief" from his colleagues, who finally got rid of the deputy title. So when I was 17, I called him Oldschool Dad to keep up with the times, though he always thought I was calling him "my old man."

When I answered the phone, I heard Oldschool Dad's wooden, emotionless voice. He said, "Sunny, I'm arriving in Suzhou soon. I have an exhibition to attend tomorrow morning, so I'm staying at your place tonight."  

I felt depressed. This cursed weekend kept getting worse. Speak of the devil, and he appears. I absolutely couldn't let Oldschool Dad know I was penniless and homeless! Although old-fashioned, he had a temper.  

I quickly thought up an excuse. "Oldschool Dad, why don't you find a hotel near the station? I'm having dinner with colleagues tonight, and it'll definitely run late."  

"You eat. Don't you keep your keys under the doorframe? I can get in."  

"Not recently. There have been too many thieves."

Oldschool Dad insisted, "Then I'll wait for you. Don't stay out late playing after dinner. Come back early."

"Oldschool Dad, you must be exhausted after sitting for so long. Just find a nearby hotel. You'll have trouble squeezing onto public transit during rush hour to get to my place!"  

No matter how I tried to put him off, Oldschool Dad didn't get impatient. Finally, he said, "Your mom knitted you a sweater. I'm bringing it over."  

...  

Hearing the beep as he hung up, I was stunned for a moment. Then I reacted, immediately shouldering my luggage bags and dragging my suitcase to the roadside to flag down a cab. I had to stay at Betsy's place tonight, even if she didn't want me to. I had no choice. If Oldschool Dad found out my current situation, he'd get so upset he might have a stroke.