I walked over as if possessed and took a taste from the spoon he held out to my lips.
The flavor was very ordinary, but it warmed me up completely.
This soup was my mother's specialty, a taste of home I had mentioned to August many times.
"It's delicious," I heard myself say.
"That's wonderful!" he exclaimed with relief. "Wanda said she wanted this soup yesterday and I failed several times, almost disappointing her."
My body instantly turned cold and the soup I swallowed felt like a lump in my throat.
August was in high spirits, casually asking while sprinkling scallions, "Where's the child?"
I lowered my eyes. "At Grandma's."
Before he could say anything more, I had already walked away to get a document.
August raised an eyebrow. "Bringing up the child to ask for a reward again? What do you want to buy this time?"
"A burial plot," I said calmly. "Please sign this."
He paused, his tone unusually gentle. "So you know about your mother's passing? Where did you choose for the burial plot?"
As he spoke, he took the document and started to open it. I was about to stop him when his phone rang.
Later, Wanda's sweet, coquettish voice came through. "August, have you left yet?"
"Right away," August replied, a smile in his eyes. "Miss me?"
He flirted with her while mouthing, "We'll talk about it when I get back."
"No," I grabbed his wrist. "Sign it now."
August's face darkened. "Don't push your luck!"
He was always cautious, meticulously reviewing documents before signing and my insistence went against his principles.
In the past, I would have apologized immediately. But this time, I stubbornly refused to let go.
We locked eyes for a long moment until Wanda's voice sounded again. "August?"
Her single prompt made him compromise instantly. For the first time, he didn't read a single word and signed hastily.
"Satisfied?" that man sneered. He threw the document at me, packed up the soup and slammed the door as he left.
I clutched the document tightly and slowly crouched down. In truth, Julie had already helped me arrange my mother's funeral affairs. What he had just signed was our divorce agreement.
A long time later, my phone vibrated.
A post from Wanda popped up. [I just mentioned it casually and the next day, someone made it happen for me!]
The accompanying photo was that very bowl of soup. The first instant like came from August, someone who rarely checked social media and had never once liked any of my posts.
Just as I was about to swipe away, Julie's message popped up. [Eleanor, today is the day of the child's cremation. Do you need me to pick you up?]
I declined her offer and drove to the crematorium.
Seeing that I was alone, the old lady asked, "Where's August?"
I shook my head. "I didn't tell him."
The baby was my child and had nothing to do with August. In three days, I would also have no further connection to him.
The old lady was furious. "This is his child, too! Didn't he even ask about it once?"
She took out her phone to call August, but couldn't get through. Meanwhile, my phone buzzed.
August texted me. [Why is Grandma calling me? Did you complain to her again?]
In our chat history, which contained 19,277 messages I had sent him over five years, he had replied only 82 times. This was the first message he had ever initiated and it was to blame me.
Subsequently, his messages popped up one after another.
[If Grandma causes trouble for Wanda, I won't let you off the hook.]
[I was just helping Wanda out.]
[If you want soup, I'll make it for you later.]
[Stop making a scene.]
I pressed the power button quietly, expressionless.
Soon, a staff member walked over and asked, "Are the two of you ready?"
My throat felt tight, but I nodded.
The moment the child was placed into the cremation furnace, my phone suddenly began buzzing incessantly.
It was a call from August.
