The loud slam of the door slammed shut woke me. Trembling, I walked to the pile of shards, but no matter how I pieced them together, I couldn't reconstruct my mother's face. I knelt there all night, clutching the pile of scraps.
Until my phone screen lit up along with the sun.
Caleb: [3 PM, see you at the City Hall.]
University: [Your application to study abroad has been approved. You'll depart next Tuesday.]
Although I hadn't slept a wink all night and my gait was unsteady, I still arrived fifteen minutes early, standing by the roadside in front of the City Hall, waiting.
Because Caleb was an extremely punctual person. Once, I was stuck in traffic and was two minutes late for a date. He impatiently abandoned me and went home alone. From then on, I always arrived early for dates with him.
Sure enough, just as 3 PM arrived, Caleb appeared in my sight, carrying a large bag of things. I looked closely and saw that it contained some mangoes.
He noticed my gaze, casually pulled one from the bag and handed it to me, "Want some?"
His tone was calm, even somewhat gentle. It was as if we weren't there for a divorce, but as a couple getting married. My heart suddenly ached.
I waved my hand and turned to walk towards the City Hall, "Thank you, but I'm allergic to mangoes."
He froze, as if he were seeing me for the first time.
When we reached the door, we realized it was a holiday and the City Hall was closed. I even faintly heard Caleb sigh with relief, even though his brows were furrowed. He must have been hallucinating from staying up all night.
I said weakly, "Maybe next time, I'll go back now."
He responded softly, "Okay, next time there definitely won't be any mistakes."
Then he turned to leave. I felt a tightness in my chest; his words made it seem as if I hadn't checked the time and wasn't prepared.
The already gloomy sky couldn't hold back any longer and within moments, large raindrops began to fall. We were frozen in place by this sudden turn of events.
Luckily, I always carry an umbrella. He knew that too and looked at me. In that instant our eyes met, memories flooded back. The image of that thinly dressed boy, soaked by the rain, turning to look at me, overlapped with my own now.
Overwhelmed by emotion, I blurted out, "Remember when we first met...?"
"I lent you my umbrella. I told Michele I'd take her out to play at four o'clock."