4: 4
I froze for a second, watching the blood drip onto the cutting board.
The strange thing was, it didn't hurt at all.
Maybe everything else hurt so much that a little cut like this didn't even register.
I walked out of the kitchen to get a bandage from the bedroom.
But the moment Tamara saw me come out bleeding, she let out a dainty little cry. “Ow, that hurts!”
Elijah was the first to rush over, cupping her hand anxiously. “What is it? Did you get a splinter?”
He stared at Tamara's slightly reddened finger, pained, then whipped around and yelled at me,
“Paula! When you handed her the chopsticks, couldn't you have rubbed off the splinters first?”
“Tammy has soft, delicate skin. She's not tough and thick-skinned like you.”
Only after he finished shouting did he notice my hand, covered in blood.
He frowned, irritated. “How are you so clumsy? Cutting vegetables and you managed to cut your own hand?”
“Go deal with it, quick. Don't let blood drop into the dumpling filling, or how is everyone supposed to eat?”
I looked at him.
His attention had already gone back to Tamara's finger,
and the friends were crowding around her too, one passing her tissues, another blowing on the spot.
I found a bandage, wrapped it on however it went, and turned back into the kitchen.
They ate that meal in high spirits.
After dinner, they sprawled across the couch, and someone tossed out the idea,
“Now that we're all full, Eli, how about we help you remember some old times again?”
Tamara giggled. “Yes, yes! Who goes first?”
Ervin shot me a look first, then deliberately raised his voice,
“I'll go!”
“Eli, you don't know this, but the other day I saw a video of your wife online.”
“Know why you've got amnesia and your wife's still willing to stay married to you? Because she was out messing around with other guys, and you, poor idiot, never had a clue!”
They went one after another, the laughter getting louder and louder, all of them turning to look at Elijah in unison.
This game had started out as Elijah and Tamara ganging up on me.
But little by little, they seemed to have discovered a new way to play it.
In the rules of the game, after all, Elijah had amnesia.
So they could use the excuse of curing him to insult and slander me in a joking tone.
If I cried, if I got angry, they'd laugh and call me petty. It was only a joke. The doctor said stimulus therapy like this was good for Elijah.
Back then I never doubted it, because Elijah himself was a doctor.
I would force myself to swallow the humiliation, keep smiling, play dumb.
But now, I didn't want to endure it anymore.
I stood up, my voice calm. “I don't feel well, I'm going to bed. You all help him remember.”
Seeing me refuse to play along, Ervin slammed the table.
“Going to bed? Everyone's having a good time, and you're pulling a long face at us?”
“Don't think we all have to go easy on you just because you're pregnant. Maybe if you popped one out for each of the guys, that'd be a different story. Hahahahaha.”
Elijah felt he'd lost face, and joined in scolding me. :
“Paula, did you take the wrong pills today or something? Sit down!”
“The baby's three months along, past the danger period already. I studied medicine. You think I don't know that?”
I looked at this face I had once loved so deeply,
and simply took a surgical consent form out of my bag, laying it flat on the coffee table.
Under everyone's stunned eyes, I looked at Elijah.
“The baby is gone.”
“When I said surgery, I meant a miscarriage. It was the procedure to end the pregnancy.”
“Elijah, let's get a divorce.”
