My ex-wife is a teacher.

We reconnected one day last month, chatting like friends. That same day, we drove out with our kids and met up naturally.

There was no awkwardness, no formality; we shared our life experiences. When the conversation drifted to my flirting and casual sex, and hers about being pursued by someone, we both fell silent.

Men always have to take the initiative. While our son happily played on the bumper cars at the amusement park, I leaned on the railing and asked her, with a touch of melancholy, if after all this time and through several men, there was anyone suitable to spend the rest of her life with. She

lowered her head and remained silent for a long time, without answering, a hint of sadness in her eyes. I seemed to understand something.

My ex-wife was a math teacher, working at a school since graduation, simple and healthy.

She said a divorced teacher from another school was pursuing her, but she wasn't satisfied with several things, mainly his age and his refusal to let her take care of her child. I forced a smile. Although I'd rationally analyzed the past and future over the years, hearing this still left a bitter taste in my mouth. Although I had a girlfriend a decade younger than me before the new year, I truly couldn't commit to her anymore. Taking advantage of the fact that neither of us had fully developed feelings, I deliberately broke up with her, acting like a complete scumbag. My last shred of conscience told me I couldn't continue. In this society, whoever falls in love first dies.

Watching my child run over, sweaty and looking for water from my ex-wife, saying, "It's so much fun playing with Mommy and Daddy,"

I was overwhelmed with emotion… Watching my ex-wife holding my child's hand, walking slowly along the forest path, her tall figure with shoulder-length hair, chatting kindly with the child, I just wanted to freeze that warm moment. Suddenly, she turned around and asked me very seriously that she didn't like that man, that after everything, she still loved me.

I was completely stunned. Many thoughts flashed through my mind in a short time—rational analysis of interests, emotional analysis of feelings… Did I love her? So much had happened; it was impossible to pretend it didn't exist, but it was still half responsibility and half emotion. Yes, I still love her, but not nearly as much as before… That night, she was like she was when we first fell in love, back to the kind of person I'd want to protect from the storms of life. No longer strong or domineering, only the tender charm of a little woman remained. (I'm being a bit of a jerk here.) After dinner, we dropped our son off at his grandparents', and walked silently side-by-side along a secluded path in the neighborhood. She stopped, grabbed my hand tightly, and cried, saying many things about how much she missed me. I looked at her tear-streaked face, still delicate, more weathered and haggard than when we parted. Then I hugged her tightly and kissed her.

The night was long, but for us, it was short. We returned to where it all began and ended, entangled in a frenzy. From the doorway to the bedroom floor, scattered clothes seemed to point to our final destination.

Having not tasted flesh for months, I frantically and wantonly fucked the soft body beneath me, releasing the longing I dared not and did not want to think about in my daily life. The cries and screams pulled me back to reality. Looking at her beautiful, tear-streaked face, I apologetically smoothed her sweat-dampened hair, slowly thrusting into her as I whispered in her ear, "Baby, you know I'll never forget you, no matter what."

She clung to me tightly, her voice trembling with sobs, "Fuck me, fuck me hard! Fuck my cunt!" Like an insatiable beast, she spread her legs, demanding every deep thrust.

...Bringing her to her third orgasm, I couldn't hold back either, thrusting hard into her cervix a few times, like a farewell kiss, quickly pulling out and ejaculating all over her face, just like before. Her mouth enveloped and sucked my gushing glans. (During her fertile period, there was no other way.) We both collapsed onto the bed, our breaths rising and falling, signifying the end of this phase of the battle. I don't know if it was sex that outweighed love, or love that outweighed sex; I only wanted the beauty in my arms to never leave me again for the rest of my life. I had already let go of the past and let go of myself, so now I could peacefully enjoy the happiness that belonged only to me.

We both let down our guard, just like the naked fusion we had just shared, revealing our innermost feelings. When feelings run deep, they inevitably intensify. As we talked, we began a second round. She sat on top of me, her face flushed, staring intently at me, her hips moving up and down, occasionally turning her body to let me penetrate her deeply, grinding against that hard lump deep inside. Our lower bodies kissed tightly… Before I knew it, we were both exhausted and asleep. When I woke up, it was just dawn. I looked at the beautiful woman holding me tightly in my arms, her eyes seemingly smiling as she pressed her face close to my heart—was she trying to hear my heart? I gently kissed her forehead. I didn't know what lay ahead, nor did I care what others thought. I was a man, a father, a husband who had once deeply loved her. And now? What was I? A friend with benefits?…

[The End]

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