The Journey That Is Getting Further and Further Away (Part 7)

That day, Meng told me a lot. She said she had tried to forget me, didn't want to affect my family, and didn't want to hurt another woman, so she played with that person in the game, trying to use him to divert her feelings for me.
I said, "Aren't you afraid you'll fall in love with him and hurt someone else?"
She said, "Do you really think I'm promiscuous? How could I fall in love with someone so quickly?"
She said, "I just wanted you to give up, and to give up myself."
But in the end, neither she nor I could completely give up!
I know that such feelings are not noble, and even somewhat sinful. But what is love? Who can truly understand it?
It's just that outsiders see things more clearly.
Extramarital affairs are like poison; they taste sweet and delicious, but they break your heart.
Only those involved know that they can't cut it off, and it's a tangled mess.
After the Spring Festival of 2010, I used the excuse of starting construction on a natural gas station to leave home and board a train to a distant place.
After more than thirty hours of bumpy travel, I finally stood in this icy and snowy northern Xinjiang.
Stepping off the platform, I saw Meng standing in the biting wind, her light purple coat concealing a pair of over-the-knee boots.
She was still so slender, still remarkably graceful.
Meng and I took a taxi to her home. The heating in her apartment complex was excellent; the indoor temperature was a world apart from the minus thirty degrees Celsius outside.
Meng's daughter wasn't home; she was at her mother's.
We took off our coats and immediately embraced, our tongues mingling, both of us almost desperately kissing.
In moments, we were completely naked.
She sucked on my cheek, urgently saying, "Fuck me, quick, fuck me, I've missed you so much!"
I entered her body; deep inside, she was warm and soft, tight and trembling.
We were like birds starving for days, faced with a delicious feast, no longer caring about anything else, only wanting to devour everything before us, even if it meant we were stuffed and breathless.
We entwined, clashed, surged and undulated, from the bed to the corner, from the corner to the wall, until, in a frenzied contraction, convulsion, trembling, and groaning, we reached the other shore of spring warmth and blossoming flowers, sinking into a gentle paradise.

I stayed at Meng's house for seven days, during which time she introduced me to her family, but concealed the most important point: I was a married man.

That May Day, Meng came to visit me again, and we stayed together for five days.

Two months after Meng returned home, she told me she was pregnant.
I broke out in a cold sweat.
After helping her with everything, I calmed down and thought for a long time.
That day, I sat quietly in the car, repeatedly asking myself, could I give her a home? Could I give her a future?
Of course not!
I love her, yes, I love this woman! But what can I give her?
I have a virtuous wife at home, yet I walk on the edge of fire and water, one wrong step and I'm doomed.
Suddenly, a song I'd never heard before came on the radio, Wang Feng's "When I Think of You"...
That day, I strolled in the sunset and
saw a couple embracing each other.
At that moment, memories flooded back,
and tears streamed down my face.
Last night, I stood frozen in the rain,
staring at the motionless figure across the street.
That moment felt like stepping back in time,
and tears welled up again.
The song played slowly and lingeringly, and without realizing it, a few tears slipped from the corners of my eyes. At that moment, I thought of so many things—the difficult years I'd spent with my wife, and how I'd told myself I would treat this woman well for the rest of my life.
I finally decided to bury this ill-fated relationship deep in my heart, and from that moment on, never again to frivolously live my life.

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The Journey That Is Getting Further and Further Away (Part 7)

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