Love is most beautiful when it's ambiguous.

Author: Wu Danru
Publisher:
Publication Date: 2002-06-01
Features: Those childhood stories, where did the person who once promised to marry you go? Meeting in the most beautiful moment of this life, who knows if these encounters will end up in the corner of memory? Wu Danru is a very storytelling person. She can start from daily life and write many good stories. There are many people who can write articles, but not many can write novels well—she is a master of storytelling.
Excerpt: He might never understand how he fell in love with her. But if he could understand, it wouldn’t be love. It was like driving on an empty country road when eyes were already tired of monotonous scenery, suddenly being startled by a ghostly car rushing toward him at high speed. Then, a lot of questions came to his mind, such as, why did he marry so young? (Actually, he should have asked himself this question eight years ago. Actually, eight years ago wasn’t that early either.) And, would he have to live on the original dull track of his life? Despite having thought a million times to break out of the status quo, he still couldn’t help but hesitate. Yes, he couldn’t. He should be responsible not just for himself, but also for his family, he was a father to a little boy, had to pay frighteningly high mortgage and utility bills every month, had to deal with the ups and downs of workplace politics, had to save money for his retirement (though that was a long, long time away), and he had promised his wife that in thirty years, he would take her around the world. He was a man of his word—but he was also an ordinary person. He couldn’t make any decisions because he wasn’t sure if she would comply with his choices. She was too hard to control. If all the women he knew were like cats, she was a cloud leopard, rare and untamable. That was his only secret.
He returned to the United States from South America, and she returned to Taipei around the same time on a flight. The plane was delayed in New York due to heavy snow. He just finished a phone call, saying he would come home later.
“Snow is very heavy, the worst in the east coast of the U.S. in years. It’s terrible, I don’t know how long it will last. Give my kisses to the baby, and tell him I’ll bring a gift. OK? Sorry.” He hung up the phone and turned around. An Eastern woman stood behind him, asking for some coins to make a call. From her English, he could tell she had a Taiwanese accent, so he asked her, “You couldn’t take the flight either?” She smiled awkwardly, “Not only couldn’t take the flight, I also spent all my cash, and my card is almost maxed out. I didn’t expect it to snow so heavily just after changing planes here.”
He sympathetically waited for her to finish her call. The numbers she dialed didn’t seem to be answered. Dejectedly, she turned back to thank him. He noticed her delicate face had a melancholic beauty, and beautiful women always evoke compassion, especially when they are in trouble.
“Hungry?” he asked. She blushed and nodded.
“If no one is picking you up for now, would you like me to treat you to a meal? No need to be formal.”
The airport announced that all flights for the day had been canceled. So, he went out of the airport with her. He quickly found a hotel nearby. This decision was quick and clever because the receptionist soon looked apologetic at his back.
After the meal, he learned her name was Sheny, and her last name was Sun. She was pursuing a master’s degree in textiles and apparel and worked as a project buyer at a clothing chain store. She had a slightly tanned complexion, as warm as the sun, and a pair of nimble monolidded eyes that blended intelligence with cluelessness. Her slender body seemed to hold a wealth of energy. She kept apologizing for “freeing” him with a meal. She didn’t ask any personal questions about him. He only mentioned that he was an expert at an engineering company and often traveled alone abroad.
During dessert, she told him a joke about her experience on a flight in mainland China.
“I sat next to a Taiwanese businessman when I was drinking oolong tea. Suddenly, a glamorous flight attendant walked over to him with a cloying voice and asked, ‘Sir, do you need a companion?’ I was shocked, thinking even prostitution had made it to the sky. The businessman was also dumbfounded. The flight attendant then swayed her hips lightly and walked away, then came back. Can you guess what a companion is?”
He thought for a long time and shook his head. He was a simple person and rarely guessed correctly, but he was focused on her.
“Turns out, people in the mainland call ‘Coffee-mate’ coffee companion—it has no romantic meaning.” He nodded and smiled.
She said she had to make a phone call to try her luck. Two minutes later, when she returned, her expression revealed the result.
“I connected, but the snow was too heavy. My friends couldn’t risk their lives to pick me up.” He was stunned for a moment, then stammered, “If it doesn’t bother you to have a sofa in your hotel room, I can take the sofa bed so you can have the bed. You can be at ease, I never take advantage of others.”
“I don’t know how to thank you.” she said. After returning to Taipei, she would pay half of the hotel bill. He of course refused.
Though exhausted from the flight, he couldn’t sleep on the sofa. About half an hour later, he heard her faint voice, “Are you going to sleep over?” He sat up slightly in the dark, stealing a glance at her expression. The window showed falling snow, like cotton fluff. The sky was a deep blue, like egg tempera—was she dreaming? Her side face looked so calm, like snow. So, he burrowed back under the blanket, his heart burning like a furnace.
He closed his eyes for only a moment before a warm touch spread across his skin. It was a soft body. After years, he had lost that kind of thrill, the sudden explosion of sensation, the inexplicable heat. After years, when his marriage with his wife had become routine, this moment suddenly reminded him of the passion of his first time. She made no provocative moves—she just leaned against him.
He spoke again, “I’m married—I’ll always be at a disadvantage.” He was sure she heard, but she didn’t answer. He said it again, then heard her whisper close to his ear, “It doesn’t matter.”
After that, he experienced a night unlike any other. She melted in his arms like snow, and he was like an inexperienced teenager, repeatedly kissing her lips, her neck, every inch of her skin, her light scratches tickling his fine hair. The snow fell silently until dawn. The snow continued, but he remained awake. He didn’t want to leave her an inch. He didn’t know when he finally drifted off to sleep, drowsy and confused.
When he woke up, it seemed like nothing had happened. He was still on the sofa. The bed sheet hadn’t moved. If it weren’t for the note beside his pillow, he would have thought it was a dream.
Dear,
Meeting you was a wonderful thing.
Sherry
The snow seemed to have softened. He quickly got dressed and went to the airport to wait for a flight. He looked around everywhere, even searched the entire plane after boarding, but unfortunately, there was no sign of her. He forgot whether he told her his name, but he was sure he forgot to give her his business card. How he wished the snow would never stop.
A year later, he still thought about that night, that secret between only her and him. His wife didn’t notice. He sometimes gazed at the sky with a wistful look, but she wouldn’t notice, and so many questions lingered in his mind. He at least wanted to tell her: Falling in love with you was a wonderful thing.