After winning the National Creative Design Competition Award, I instinctively wanted to share it with Isaac Lucas.
I opened the chat window and saw what Isaac had said to me a week ago, [Anna, Alma's grandma is sick again, so I won't be home for the next couple of days.]
I didn't reply.
Isaac didn't ask.
I was busy with the competition and had almost forgotten what our last cold war was about.
Seeing there was no response made me feel empty and didn't want to share anymore.
I thought I suddenly stopped loving Isaac.
——
I exited the chat window, turned around and posted a message on my Instagram with the caption, [On the road to my dreams, I want to be my own star.]
The photo was I was holding the trophy, standing on the stage, seemingly surrounded by light and shadow, truly shining.
I looked at the increasing likes and comments on my Instagram.
Friends were praising me for being excellent and amazing and many envied me for achieving my dream.
While those comments made me happy, I saw a comment tagging Isaac.
It was Alma Bailey.
Alma said, [Isaac, look! Your wife is so amazing.]
Less than half a minute later, Isaac called. "Anna, what do you mean by this?!"
"You went to participate in such a big design competition and didn't even tell me! I had to find out through someone else that my girlfriend won first place. Do you even care about me?"
Actually, I hadn't received a call from Isaac in a long time. Hearing his voice made me feel a little dazed.
Isaac's furious voice came through the receiver. "Do you know how many people have congratulated me? I have no idea what they're congratulating me on!"
"If it weren't for Alma, I wouldn't even know you won an award!"
"If you don't tell me you won an award today, will I not even know who you are tomorrow?"
"Anna, what exactly are you trying to do?!"
After Isaac finished his anger, I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything, I heard a familiar, coquettish female voice calling out from the receiver, "Isaac, don't be in such a hurry, you'll scare Anna!"
Alma seemed to pat Isaac, then spoke to me like a mistress of the house. "Anna, don't be angry with Isaac. That's just his temper.”
“Actually, he's quite happy. He was even smug when he heard you won the award, saying he wanted to celebrate with you when you got back."
I listened to Isaac's dismissive retort, "Who wants to celebrate with her? She doesn't care about me at all. What's there to celebrate?!"
"Only you're kind enough to speak up for her. If you ask me, she deserves to be ignored—"
"Isaac." I suddenly interrupted Isaac.
Just like always, whenever Isaac was around, Alma was there too.
No matter how many times I had made a scene, no matter how many times I had argued, Isaac always sided with Alma, complaining that I was immature and narrow-minded.
Even though I loved taking photos and sharing them every day—especially with Isaac—the only one who ever responded was Alma.
And whenever I got upset and told Alma not to touch Isaac’s phone or invade our privacy, Isaac would snap at me, saying, “Can’t you stop thinking such filthy things?”
"Who wants to see the stuff you share?"
"Every day it's just pictures of flowers and grass, or stray cats and dogs on the street. Anna, can't you come up with something new?!”
“I'm getting so annoyed with you. I have important things to do every day, I don't have time to deal with you all the time!"
But that time, I seemed to have lost the energy to continue arguing with Isaac.
I only told him this when Isaac was waiting for me to back down.
