We hugged without speaking for a long time.
Then I asked:
“What kind of life is this?”
He looked at the floor.
Then he whispered:
“Mom… I never really got married.”
I felt the world shatter.
The money wasn’t from a wife.
It wasn’t from a happy life.
He had given up ten years of his life to earn it.
He wasn’t a husband.
He wasn’t free.
He was a man trapped in a contract — and he still had two years left.
If he broke it early, he would have to pay back nearly a million dollars.
That was why he never came home.
That was why the house had no life in it.
That was why there were no photos.
That was why Li Mei’s belongings were nowhere to be found.
That was why his eyes had changed.
That night, we slept in the same house for the first time in ten years.
