When I Stopped Loving, I Stopped CryingChapter 1
On May Day, during a self-driving tour, I drove recklessly at night, causing the car to overturn and catch fire.
Chandler ignored me trapped in the backseat with my thigh stuck in the door, seriously injured.
He hurriedly rescued his scratched childhood sweetheart, hailed a car, and left me behind.
The next day, after waking up from surgery, I saw his childhood sweetheart’s post on her social media.
"Who says childhood sweethearts can't compete with new romances? I will always be the first in his heart!"
Everyone aware of the situation was waiting to see if I, the real girlfriend, would make a scene and embarrass myself.
I replied indifferently, "Congratulations, the leash is off, and you don't have to sneak around eating shit anymore!"
——
The day after the accident, Chandler finally remembered me, his girlfriend.
But he didn't ask about my whereabouts or injuries.
Instead, he came questioning me, seeking justice for his childhood sweetheart, Lily.
"Yasmine, how can you talk like that? Lily is my junior sister. She got hurt, and I can't just watch!"
"We are innocent. Why do you always misinterpret us? People with a dirty mind see everything as dirty!"
Not a word about how I survived that dark night in the burning car.
I merely mentioned, "Chandler, I am injured too..."
"Are you crazy, imitating how others speak? Can't you stop being so boring?"
He impatiently hung up.
Six days later, with a steel plate in my thigh, I was discharged.
Chandler finally decided to unblock me.
"Where are you? Shall we have dinner together tonight?"
I knew the cold war was ending.
In our relationship, he always acted on his own whims - quarreling, cold shouldering, or reconciling when he pleased.
I was the humble one, never refusing, never saying "no."
But after this brush with death, I felt extremely tired and bored.
Usually when he initiated reconciliation, I was relieved and joyful.
But this time, I remained calm and simply replied,
"In hospital."
He finally called me, asked for the location, and insisted on picking me up.
It was a half-hour drive.
I was limping on one leg, running up and down to get discharged. Even the cleaning lady couldn't bear to watch and came to help me.
Finally, everything was done. I waited at the hospital entrance with my bag in hand from morning to sunset.
I never saw him, nor received another call.