After She Is Dumped

The first time I saw Shirley Scott was in the winter of our senior year. The cold wind swept snowflakes against my face, stinging sharply. She was curled up at the alley behind the school building, her school jacket wrapped tightly around her, still clutching a hot water bottle to her chest. I thought she was waiting for a friend until I saw her secretly wiping away tears. It was only later that I learned she had just used the pocket money she had saved for three months to buy a pregnancy test. Two red lines, like a bolt of thunder, shattered her seventeen-year-old life. The father of the child was a boy from the neighboring class with dyed blue hair, named Eric Carter. The day after Eric Carter found out, he packed his bags and left with his parents for another city. Leaving Shirley Scott alone to face this mess. Shirley and I weren't close—we were just classmates at best. But watching her sit in the classroom, staring blankly at the blackboard, it felt like something was choking me inside. That day after school, I called out to her. "Do you need any help?" She froze for a moment, then tears streamed down like broken strings of pearls. I went with her to the hospital. Outside the operating room, she gripped the hem of my shirt, her palms slick with sweat. "Yale Lincoln, I'm scared." I gently patted the back of her hand, trying to keep my voice steady. "Don't be afraid. I'll be waiting for you outside." That one hour was more nerve-wracking than the College Entrance Examination. It wasn't until the nurse came out and said the surgery had gone very well that I finally felt relieved. After Shirley Scott was discharged, she didn't dare to go home. Her parents had divorced long ago and each had formed new families; no one was willing to look after her. I took her back to my house. At that time, my parents were away on business, so I was living alone. I prepared the guest room for her and bought her favorite strawberries. "Stay here for now. When you've made up your mind, we'll talk again." She nodded, though her eyes still glistened with tears. After the College Entrance Examination, I was admitted to a local university, but Shirley Scott did not pass. She stayed at home all day, neither going out nor speaking. Feeling heartbroken, I gently suggested, "Why don't you try learning something new?" After a moment's thought, she said she wanted to learn baking. I immediately enrolled her in a training class and helped her find a part-time job near the school. Slowly, smiles began to reappear on her face. The year I graduated from university, I proposed to Shirley Scott. There was no grand ceremony—just a ring I had been saving for a long time to buy. "Shirley, I know you've been through a lot in the past." "But I want to give you a home, a stable home." She nodded tearfully and said, "Yale, I am willing." Our wedding was very simple; we invited a few friends and relatives. Everyone says I'm a good person; Shirley Scott is lucky to have met me. After we got married, I treated Shirley Scott like a princess. I do my best to satisfy whatever she likes. When she didn't want to work, I said, "It's okay, I'll take care of you." She keeps the house spotless, and every day when I come home from work, I can smell the comforting aroma of home-cooked food. At that time, I thought we would be happy like this forever. To give Shirley Scott a better life, I worked desperately hard. I often worked overtime late into the night, and sometimes I even went on business trips. Before every business trip, Shirley would help me pack my luggage and remind me to be careful. I thought she truly loved me—until I came back from that business trip.