1
Five years later, I was making a living by setting up a small booth in a night market tourist area.
I did manicures for tourists while selling some handmade trinkets on the side.
That night, it started drizzling. The lady at the neighboring stall called out to me as she was packing up: “Thea, why don’t you head home? It’s raining!”
I shook my head bitterly.
The truth was, I hadn’t made a single sale all day and didn’t want to leave empty–handed.
The lady tried to persuade me: “Honey, that’s not how you make money. You’ve barely eaten anything all day. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Just as she finished speaking, two people suddenly stopped in front of my booth – a picture–perfect couple.
“Hey, how much for a manicure?” The girl’s voice was sweet as she casually browsed the designs.
I habitually lowered my head, wiped the customer’s chair clean, and eagerly introduced my services: “Basic designs are
50
E o
e
C
U O
E
р
X
n
a
50,morecomplexonesare 100. If you’d like, I can also throw in a free plush toy – I make them myself.
6:33 PM
<
The girl didn’t even look at the toys. She randomly pointed at a trendy design.
“I’ll take this one. Skip the plush toy – I’m not interested in unlicensed products.”
The man beside her opened an umbrella and held it over her head, his tone full of affection.
“I can’t believe you still want to get dolled up in this rain.”
My hand froze as I was reaching for my tools.
Though I hadn’t heard that voice in years, I would recognize it anywhere till the day I died.
It was Sean Parker.
I snuck a glance and finally got a clear look at him now.
He had lost weight but become even more handsome.
In that moment, my heart felt like a fallen leaf tossed about by a gale, drifting aimlessly with no place to settle.
I mechanically reached out to gently hold the girl’s hand. I lowered my head to steady myself and slowly began painting her nails.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Sean pull up a chair and sit down, his hand holding the umbrella never wavering.⭑
It suddenly reminded me of our college days when he would always wait for me outside the dorm building whenever it rained. He always tilted the umbrella more towards my side.
But that favoritism no longer belonged to me.
Now, he stood beside another girl, shielding her from the wind and rain, giving her his undivided attention.
“Wait, take off everything you just did,” the girl suddenly pulled her hand back and held it up to her face, blowing on it gently.
My thoughts were abruptly pulled back to reality as I asked anxiously, “Miss, do you… not like it?”
She frowned and shook her head. “Your hands feel like they have thorns, it’s uncomfortable.”
“How can you do manicures for others with hands like that? Don’t you understand customer service?”
Only then did I notice how dry and cracked my own hands were.
Years of sewing and manual labor had left my fingertips covered in tiny, rough calluses.
In that moment, I felt my face burn with embarrassment, my chest tightening.
Sean suddenly laughed and ruffled the girl’s hair, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.
“Please help remove the polish for her. Keep the money!”
He finally looked at me.
That glance made his hand freeze mid–motion as he was taking out cash.
I watched as his expression gradually hardened, the muscles in his face twitching subtly.
Those eyes that were once gentle and mesmerizing slowly filled with hatred.
The girl took out some sanitizing wipes from her purse and started wiping her fingers one by one. She turned to ask, “What’s wrong? Do you know her?”
He suddenly smiled.
He pulled out a few more bills from his wallet and tossed them all at me unceremoniously.
<
“No, I don’t. She just looks pitiful.”
“Consider it charity for a beggar. Let’s go.”
Those two sentences were like sharp hooks, digging into my heart one by one.
He had recognized me.
At my most wretched state.
