“Harry, the Hattie who used to yell about wanting to be a doctor and chase after you is long dead, destroyed little by little by you! Now I’m just a convict, a string of living numbers. It makes me sick to even call you my brother!” Hattie’s disgust towards Harry was not just empty words; she truly hated him to the core.
Harry thought he didn’t care. They were meant to torment each other, the lives between them. He had taken in the young Hattie, but it was only for revenge. She was just a plaything to him, and there shouldn’t have been any extra feelings. But now, a suffocating pain pierced his chest.
“Harry, I’ve lost everything. My dreams, my pride. I have nothing to be proud of. You must be pleased with how I look now. After all, the fish you raised is finally drowning in the water.”
Hattie’s body was as stiff as a puppet. She looked at Harry with disdain, her eyes like an endless ink sea.
“As someone like me, to you, is nothing more than nothing. It wouldn’t matter if I die, right?”
“No, it’s not…” Harry reflexively retorted.
He admitted that at first, he had wanted to torment her for his own selfish desires. But slowly, he realized that he missed Hattie when she was in prison. He even started to regret it.
He used to say that Hattie was just a plaything. But if she was truly just that, why couldn’t he forget about her? Day and night, he missed her more and more. Unfortunately, he realized it too late.
The sudden ringing of a phone startled him. It was Hattie’s phone. She located it on the bedside table, and the contact read “Micah.”
Harry knew Micah, the doctor Hattie was often seen with. He had always been against Hattie being with Micah, feeling like he had ulterior motives.
As Hattie answered the phone, Harry heard every word. He felt uneasy but didn’t know what to do, so he just kept his gaze fixed on Hattie’s response.
The room was quiet. “I finished work early today. I bought some groceries and will make soup tonight. When do you finish work?” Micah said over the phone. It was clear Harry could hear the conversation too.
Hattie glanced at the time. “Alright, I’ll come back early.”
“What kind of soup do you like?” Micah asked.
“Anything is fine.”
“Let’s make crucian carp and tofu soup. It’s good for your health. You also like fish, and I’ll pick out the bones for you later.”
From their conversation, it seemed like they were living together. After Hattie was released from prison, the first person she went to was not him, but Micah.
Harry watched Hattie’s face, and the gentle Hattie he knew seemed to have returned. But her tenderness wasn’t for him, it was for Micah. She spoke with a sweet voice, and her smile was serene.
The more Harry listened, the darker his face became. He felt jealous and furious. In his mind, Hattie still belonged to him. He didn’t want to give her to anyone, not even in a gaze, a breath, or a heartbeat.
With Harry by her side, Hattie didn’t dare to talk much with Micah. She spoke a few words and then ended the call.
Harry couldn’t hold back his disdain. “Have you been living with him since you got out?”
“Otherwise, I would have to come and talk to the person responsible for my troubles,” Hattie lifted her head, and her eyes were filled with ice.
“When will you leave?”
Hattie’s sudden change in demeanor, from gentle and submissive to bitter and vengeful, caught Harry off guard.
“I brought you to the hospital,” he said, a hint of irony in his voice.
“What? Do you want me to kneel and thank you?”
Harry’s voice was tense, and he felt extremely unsatisfied with Hattie’s different treatment towards him. “Have you forgotten about breaking my flowers?”
“I haven’t forgotten. I can’t compensate you. You sent me to prison, not the other way around.”
“You want to continue suffering in prison?”
“What’s it to you? I’m used to it.”
The word ‘used’ could replace all the grievances and resentments. How much effort and sacrifice did it take to be accustomed to pain and bitterness?
“Harry, sometimes I’d rather stay in prison than look at you for another moment.” Hattie looked at the IV above her. The cold fluids flowed into her veins, making her left hand feel cold.
“What if I insist on going back?”
“I remember Micah is planning to open a hospital soon,” Harry said casually, his eyes filled with an obvious threat.
Hattie’s eyes turned fierce, and she sat up, raising her hand.
With a loud “smack,” she slapped Harry hard.
Harry didn’t flinch, but his hair was a bit disheveled. Hattie, on the other hand, was panting. Her movement had caused the needle to slip, and the blood flowed back into her vein.
“Harry, are you only satisfied if I die in front of you?”
“Even if you die, you’re still mine. Be obedient and come home with me.”
“I have no home!” Hattie’s voice was strained. She struggled in front of Harry, like a desperate clown. “Since the Mason family went bankrupt, I have no home! I overheard the doctor talking to you while I was unconscious. He said my life has been shortened, and I could die at any time. My body tells me more than anyone else… Harry, I’m a person with a short life.”
Harry’s face paled, and his fingertips trembled. The sudden pain overwhelmed him.
He looked at the back of Hattie’s hand and saw blood oozing out. It glided down her hand and fell silently onto the plain white sheets, glaringly conspicuous.
He grabbed a few tissues and rang for the doctor. He gently pushed Hattie back onto the bed and wiped away the blood from her hand.
The wound was small, but the blood wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t let go, or else it would start bleeding again.
“Stay by my side and take care of your health. Then you won’t die early,” he said, partly to Hattie and partly to comfort himself.
Hattie would surely live a long life, and they would grow old together.
Then, Harry noticed some white hairs in Hattie’s hair.
Hattie had turned prematurely gray.
Hattie allowed Harry to hold her hand and wipe away the blood. She seemed to sense his thoughts and spoke slowly, “When the body is sick, it can be cured. But if the heart dies, what good does it do?”
In that moment, Harry understood Hattie’s meaning. He abruptly let go of her hand. Hattie’s hatred might be manageable, but the thought of her becoming indifferent was unbearable.