Love Lost, Found Again

As I pushed open the door, the sharp scent of disinfectant mixed with the sweet aroma of baby formula washed over me. Instinctively, I drew my trench coat tighter and scanned the shelves, only to unexpectedly meet a pair of familiar eyes. David Shawn stood in the stroller aisle; his profile remained sharp, though faint lines had begun to trace his temples. The woman beside him pressed her swollen pregnant belly forward, her hand firmly linked with his arm, pride unmistakably written across her face. It was Viola Morgan, my former personal assistant. She recognized me first, a sneer curling at the corner of her mouth: "Oh, isn't this Wendy Scott? What, here to pick out gifts for someone else's child?" The provocation in her tone was like needles, lightly pricking the skin. David Shawn's expression immediately turned awkward; he released Viola Morgan's hand and stepped forward half a pace: "Wendy, long time no see." Viola instantly hooked her arm around his, her belly protruding defiantly: "David, do you know her? This is your so-called ex-wife who spent five years with you but couldn't have children." "Viola Morgan!" David Shawn called sharply, though without real admonishment. He drew a black card from his wallet and held it out to me. "Wendy, this is my apology. Take it—buy whatever you want." I looked at the card, its cold gleam catching the light, and suddenly smiled. "David Shawn, I, Wendy Scott, will never live off my ex-husband's compensation." Having said that, I turned and walked to the other side of the shelf, deliberately avoiding them. From behind came Viola Morgan's faint laugh: "Stop putting on airs. You were abandoned for being unable to have children..." I clenched the shopping basket tightly in my hands, my nails digging into my palms, but I didn't look back. Five years have passed, and in the end, he has become exactly the man I dislike most. Stepping out of the maternity shop, the cool autumn wind blew away the heat pressing on my chest and opened the floodgates of memory. Twelve years ago, David Shawn and I squeezed into a tiny rented room in an urban village, its walls peeling and rats scurrying around. Back then, he had just quit his job to start a business, with only a few thousand dollars in his pocket and no assurance of next month's rent. "Wendy, just wait a little longer. Once the company turns a profit, I promise I'll get you a bigger house." When he said this, his eyes shone like stars. He was holding a second-hand computer, its keyboard paint completely worn off. I took a bank card from the drawer and slipped it into his hand. "This is an inheritance from my parents, two hundred thousand. Take it as seed money." David Shawn was stunned, his eyes instantly reddening. "Wendy, I can't accept this; it's your parents' hard-earned money." "We're husband and wife." I stood on my tiptoes and gently kissed his forehead. "I believe in you." In those days, we ate instant noodles together and stayed up late revising plans. He went out running business errands, while I stayed in the rental, cooking for him and organizing materials, often waiting until midnight to hear the sound of his door opening. Once, he came back drenched in rain but held up a contract, smiling like a child: "Wendy, we've landed our first order!" I hurried to find clean clothes for him and made ginger tea, watching him drink it heartily, my heart full of quiet happiness. At that time, our eyes were only for each other; we believed that as long as we worked hard, we could be together like this forever. Three years later, Sun Technology had begun to make a name for itself in the industry. The company had moved into a downtown office building, and David Shawn had become the young and accomplished "Mr. Shawn" everyone talked about. He grew increasingly busy, attending more and more social engagements, and coming home later and later. "Wendy, the company is at a critical stage right now. I might not be able to pay much attention to things at home; please show some understandings." He held me, his tone full of guilt, but I smiled and shook my head: "Don't worry—I’ll take care of our family." I voluntarily stepped down from the company's management team to focus on the household, becoming the woman behind him. Friends all said I was foolish—giving up a promising career just to revolve around the family.