Chapter 127
George can't stand the strong, pungent smell of spices in Thai food.
I remember it clearly. Not long after we got married, I really wanted Thai food one time and worked up the courage to invite him along.
He didn't say anything then, just went with me.
But the moment we walked into the restaurant, the smell of spices hit us, and his brow immediately furrowed. His face turned awful.
He didn't even sit down. He just coldly said "eat by yourself" and turned around and walked right out of the restaurant, leaving me alone facing a table full of dishes.
That meal tasted like cardboard. Every bite was mixed with hurt.
The sour and spicy flavors of the Thai food all seemed to turn bitter.
I thought, given how much George hated that smell, he would definitely refuse.
But George just went silent for a moment, then, facing Sarah's expectant look, gently nodded, "Okay."
Two simple words, but they hit my heart like a dull hammer.
So he could tolerate that smell after all.
He just couldn't tolerate it with me.
When it was me, even a smell became an unforgivable sin.
When it was Sarah, he could compromise on anything, endure anything.
The crushing irony and sharp pain grabbed hold of me instantly.
I felt like I couldn't breathe, and everything seemed to go dark for a moment.
Emily immediately noticed something was wrong with me.
Because I unconsciously tightened my grip on her hand, my nails almost digging into her skin.
"Grace." Emily called my name softly, gasping at the pain in her wrist. "Grace, that hurts, let go..."
I snapped back to reality and quickly let go like I'd been burned.
Seeing the red marks I'd left on Emily's wrist, guilt and panic welled up inside me, "I'm sorry, Emily, I didn't mean to... I..."
"It's okay," Emily quickly rubbed her wrist and turned to comfort me instead. Looking at my face, her eyes were full of concern. "I know. Let's go, okay? Let's get out of here."
I pulled at the corners of my mouth, trying to smile at her, but found my facial muscles were too stiff. I could only manage something that looked worse than crying, "...Okay."
We turned and walked quickly toward the elevator, almost like we were running away.
Behind us, I could still feel George and Sarah's eyes on us, and Sarah's barely suppressed laughter.
Down in the basement, the light was dim and the air stuffy.
Emily rushed ahead to the driver's side and opened the door, "I'll drive."
I shook my head, trying to make my voice sound normal, "I'll drive. Sorry about just now, I hurt you."
"Let me do it," Emily insisted. She looked at me, her eyes full of undisguised sympathy. "Grace, I'm worried about you. Take a moment."
"I'm fine." I instinctively protested, but my voice caught.
Emily didn't say anything more, just looked at me quietly.
In the dim light, the composure I'd been forcing finally cracked a little.
I lowered my head, my voice soft, with a hint of self-mocking choke, "I'm not upset. I just think my old self was such a huge joke."
All that careful trying to please, all that hopeful reaching out, all that stubborn persistence even after being coldly rejected again and again...
Looking back now, every moment was filled with stupidity.
"I just feel a bit bitter about it." I heard my own voice, thick with tears.
Tears suddenly rolled down my face, spreading into small dark spots.
I hurriedly raised my hand to wipe them, but found the more I wiped, the more came.
Emily panicked. She quickly walked around the car, fumbling for tissues, "Grace, don't cry. He's not worth it, really."
I took the tissue she handed me and roughly wiped my face, then got into the passenger seat, my voice muffled, "I'm not crying for him, Emily."
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the sourness churning in my chest, "I'm crying for myself, for the Grace who was stupid for so many years."
"But it won't happen again, because I'm about to get the divorce papers."
"After that, George will be a complete stranger, and I won't shed another tear for him."
Emily got into the driver's seat, buckled her seatbelt, let out a heavy sigh, and started the car.
The car pulled out of the basement and merged into the afternoon traffic.
"Grace," Emily said softly while driving, "I know you're holding in a lot, a lot of hurt. If you're not okay, don't force yourself."
"I've cursed them out for you so many times, but I know that no matter how harsh the words, it only helps for a moment. The key is for you to really let go, to really move on."
I nodded, "I know. For my own sake, and for Milly's, I have to move forward. I can't look back, and I can't stay stuck feeling sorry for myself."
"Right, exactly." Emily's voice perked up a bit. "You can't keep numbing yourself with work. You need to really move on, see the world. Besides George's mess, there are so many beautiful things, so many people and things worth being happy about."
She glanced at me and suggested, "Come on, let's get something good for lunch. What do you want? Steak? Or Mexican food?"
I thought for a moment and said, "Mexican food."
"Okay, which place?"
"Make it extra spicy." I added, my voice carrying a hint of determination.
Emily paused, then laughed, her smile full of understanding and companionship, "Of course. Spicy enough to make us cry."
We found a Mexican restaurant known for being spicy.
As soon as the food arrived, the intense spicy aroma instantly overwhelmed all our senses.
Emily and I rolled up our sleeves and put the food in our mouths. Instantly, a burning spiciness exploded from our tongues and shot straight to our heads.
"So spicy!" Emily gasped for air, tears immediately streaming down.
I was burning up too, tears flowing uncontrollably, my nose tip red, fine beads of sweat forming on my forehead.
But strangely, this purely physical sensation somehow opened a crack in the gloom that had been stuck in my heart.
We looked at each other's equally miserable state and couldn't help but laugh.
At first it was suppressed laughter mixed with tears, then we just let go, laughing so hard we doubled over, slapping the table.
We cried and laughed at the same time, like crazy people.
Customers at nearby tables looked over curiously, but we didn't care.