Chapter 26 He just missed her too much…
Vivian wasn't angry, nor did she turn away. She simply lowered her head, picked up the glasses, and handed them to Zhou Yue. She watched quietly as he put them on.
She slowly turned around, walked to the sofa, gently patted the back of the sofa with her fingers, and said in a flat tone, "Come and sit down."
Zhou Yue hesitated for a moment, but still walked over.
Vivian bent down and took out two cans of iced cola from the small refrigerator next to her. With a twist of her fingertips, the sound of the icy soda was particularly clear in the quiet room. She handed one can over.
"Have something cold to drink." Vivian's tone was unusually gentle, as if she were comforting someone on the verge of a midnight breakdown, rather than dealing with a misplaced desire that had been abruptly terminated.
Zhou Yue took the can, but didn't drink it. Her fingers gripped the can tightly. She leaned back on the sofa, turned her head to look at him, and her gaze lingered on his slightly trembling jawline.
After a few seconds, she slowly spoke: "If you don't want to, I can't force myself on you, can I?"
As soon as she finished speaking, she turned her head and gave him a half-smile, half-smile, "In the end... what you want isn't me, it's someone else, isn't it?"
Zhou Yue opened his mouth, wanting to explain, but every word that might come out seemed to land in the wrong place.
Vivian didn't press further, but simply chuckled softly and said in a low voice, "I guessed pretty accurately, didn't I?"
Then, she leaned back, sinking into the sofa and resting her head on the back cushion. "Actually, I'm the same," she said, her voice as soft as a sigh. "We're just like the pot calling the kettle black."
The light in her eyes slowly faded, revealing an untimely tenderness and frankness, as if the earlier tearing and heat were merely the afterglow of a storm.
Zhou Yue glanced at her sideways, his gaze indifferent, neither speaking nor showing any emotion.
Vivian seemed oblivious to his silence, continuing to speak in a light tone with a hint of mockery at the end: "You know what? When you first came in, I thought you'd be the kind of guy who's super greasy and arrogant, since you're in investment banking, you know what I mean."
She smiled, her eyes crinkling slightly, "I never expected this..."
She paused for a moment, her gaze sweeping lightly across his face, her voice low, "You can tell at a glance that he's the kind of person who hasn't had a good night's sleep in a long time."
Zhou Yue gave a low "hmm," which was neither a response nor a denial.
Vivian tilted her head to look at him, seemingly quite satisfied with his reaction: "I'm a PhD student in psychology, and you're exactly the same as my research subjects."
She spoke casually, yet her eyes revealed an all-knowing insight. Her seemingly casual conversation subtly touched a corner of his heart.
“Tired, depressed, anxious…” A harmless smile played on her lips. “And a slight sexual defense mechanism. Your muscles are too tense, and your reactions are a beat slower. This means you’re holding back something, either physically or emotionally.”
As soon as she finished speaking, she seemed to notice the discomfort and rejection in Zhou Yue's eyes, so she stopped smiling and asked in a calm tone, "Is she... very beautiful?"
This time, Zhou Yue did not dodge.
"Yes." He nodded, his voice low and husky. "She's beautiful. She's the older sister from next door, whom I grew up with. She's four years older than me... We've known each other for over ten years."
He paused, then slowly added, "She's very smart and capable. She can do everything herself and never likes to ask others for help."
As he spoke, his voice held a subtle undertone, each word imbued with tenderness, carrying with it long-held memories and a willing admiration.
Vivian didn't interrupt, but waited quietly for him to slowly peel out those things that had been buried in his heart for too long and were almost moldy and rotten.
She finally spoke, asking softly, "Then why did you let her go?"
Zhou Yue did not answer immediately. He lowered his head, one hand pressed against his temple, trying to suppress something churning inside.
He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, which were burning from fatigue and soreness. "...She left without saying goodbye, leaving me only a letter."
His tone was calm and even, yet it was heavier than any of his previous emotional outbursts. "She said we didn't break up, she just needed to calm down so I could... pretend nothing happened." He spoke that last sentence very slowly, as if each word had to be peeled from his chest before landing on his tongue.
Vivian spoke slowly, her voice soft yet carrying an unwavering certainty: "I guess... she said something else in her letter, like how she cares a lot about being four years older than you."
She looked at him, her eyes neither mocking nor defending her, but simply stating her position.
Zhou Yue was stunned for a moment; he hadn't expected Vivian to be able to guess the contents of the letter.
Vivian looked directly at him, her eyes calm: "I've seen many people take a step back when they love someone the most, because of age, stage of life, status, family... various reasons. It's not that they don't want to love, it's just that they are too clear about the consequences."
"Is she the same?" That question wasn't interrogative, but it was direct enough, as if it was telling him the truth that he himself was unwilling to admit.
“Something is very wrong with you right now.” She looked at him, her voice still calm. “You’ve never said anything like ‘she left me’ from beginning to end. You said, ‘She left me a letter,’ ‘She left without saying goodbye.’”
Her tone remained gentle, her words precise: "This shows that you subconsciously don't want to admit that she really left you. You've pushed everything onto her decision, as if that way you don't have to make a choice or bear any consequences."
Zhou Yue's Adam's apple bobbed, as if he wanted to retort, but his lips were pressed tightly together, and he ultimately remained silent. Vivian shifted her posture, resting one elbow on the sofa armrest, her gaze fixed on the window. Her voice softened: "I'm not blaming you. On the contrary, I think you're too cautious. You try so hard to accommodate others, to give them space, leeway, and dignity, but you've never once asked yourself if you deserve to be accommodated too."
At this point, she slowly turned her head, her gaze meeting his directly, gentler than before, yet carrying an unavoidable sharpness: "Before she left, did she also mention that you had a bright future? That you had a broader life ahead of you and shouldn't stop here because of her?"
After a long silence, Zhou Yue finally spoke in a low voice: "...She didn't say it explicitly, but I know it."
“Hmm.” Vivian’s reaction was as calm as if she had expected it. “Look, she’s so smart and strong, she even left decisively, and her reasons sounded very noble. But she forgot that you’re not without judgment either.”
She paused, her gaze softening for a moment, but beneath that softness lay a sharper edge: "She deprived you of your right to participate in this decision."
Her voice was so soft it was almost a whisper, close to his breath: "This is what hurts you the most, isn't it?"
Zhou Yue raised his head, his eyes filled with a thin mist of confusion, as if he had finally heard a voice that had been buried for a long time but which he had never dared to listen to closely.
“I don’t know what happened to her…” he said slowly, his voice low and hoarse, as if he was spitting it out from deep in his chest. “She quit her job and came to New York alone without explaining it to me.”
He lowered his eyes. "I asked her, but she wouldn't tell me. Every time I asked, she said she just wanted a change of scenery."
He paused, his gaze drifting to the window, as if he were back on that night when he had asked countless questions but never received an answer.
“She’s always been like this,” he murmured. “She shoulders everything by herself, and she never talks about what happens to her… She never lets me get involved.”
He slowly raised his hand to cover his forehead, his voice so low it was almost buried between his fingers: "I actually knew a long time ago that something might have happened to her, or at least, that she had encountered something... more important than me."
"But since she wouldn't say, I could only pretend not to ask."
"I thought that if I acted more relaxed, she would be willing to come back."
"In the end, she left."
Vivian continued, "She was afraid she wouldn't be able to make the decision, and you couldn't bear to let go, so she simply made the decision on her own."
She stood up, her tone suddenly becoming as if she were talking to herself: "Most people who leave without saying goodbye aren't actually heartless... they just don't believe they're worth the other person staying for."
Then she looked at him, her tone no longer like analyzing a pathology, but like a gentle yet cruel reminder: "What you really want to ask is never 'Why did she leave?' but... 'What was wrong with me that made her not believe I could stay with her?' right?"
The moment those words fell, Zhou Yue finally closed his eyes, as if the secret he had kept hidden in his heart had been silently revealed by her, leaving him nowhere to hide.
He didn't cry, nor did he show any overt emotional fluctuations, but he slowly collapsed, sinking into a silent abyss.
Vivian said softly, “You don’t need to get better right now… but at least stop lying to yourself that you’re okay.” She paused, her gaze lingering on him. “You’re in trouble, and it’s serious.”
Zhou Yue was silent for a moment, then slowly raised his head. "She has pink hair," he suddenly said. "When you smile... you look a bit like her."
Vivian raised an eyebrow slightly, a hint of sarcasm in her lips, but no blame in her eyes: "So that's why you came to me?" She asked calmly, without anger or self-deprecation, as if confirming something she already knew.
Zhou Yue did not deny it. He nodded, his tone almost cruelly decisive: "Yes."
There was no guilt in his eyes, only an indescribable clarity and exhaustion, as if he had finally shed a certain disguise.
A few seconds later, he spoke again, this time in an even lower voice: "But you are not her." He turned his head and looked at her directly for the first time, his eyes clear enough to make one's heart pound: "I know."
As he finished speaking, there was no confusion or longing in his eyes, only an admission that he had been trapped in that departing figure for too long, and finally understood that that person would never come back, and that the person in front of him was never anyone's substitute from the very beginning.
Vivian stared at him for a few seconds, then slowly smiled: "You're much more clear-headed than most people."
"I have another question for you." Her voice remained light, carrying a restrained gentleness. "You did have a physical reaction, but later, it was as if you were suddenly relieved... What was your state at that time?"
Zhou Yue was silent for a few seconds, struggling to extract words from that vague state: "I'm not holding back." He finally spoke, his voice low and hoarse, "I... really, I don't feel anything anymore."
As he spoke, his eyes seemed to veer off-focus, and he was lost in a state of persistent, detached chaos. His body sat there, but his soul had already retreated to a very distant place.
“I know my body is reacting, really, but it’s like…” He looked down at his fingers, slowly opening and closing them, as if confirming whether they truly belonged to him.
"It's like I'm watching someone else do something for me."
“I was watching him take off his clothes, kiss, get close… but I felt like I wasn’t really there at all.”
In the last few words, his voice almost dissipated into a wisp of mist, as if even he himself was unsure whether those actions were actually commands he had given.
Vivian tilted her head slightly, her gaze slowly settling on his face. Her tone was as light as smoke, yet it struck at the heart of the matter the instant it landed, "What are you running away from?"
She didn't wait for an answer, but slowly sat up straight, leaned back in her chair, and sighed softly.
“Your behavior actually falls under the category of anxiety disorder.” Her voice carried the unwavering certainty of a professional assessment.
"Is it also accompanied by insomnia?" She raised an eyebrow, her tone carrying a hint of tentative certainty. "I guess... it's been at least two weeks, right?"
Zhou Yue wasn't surprised; he simply nodded, his voice so hoarse it was almost inaudible: "It's been more than two weeks."
She raised her eyebrows even more slightly. Suddenly, the corners of her lips curved into a smile, and she introduced herself: "Oh, by the way, we've been chatting for so long, but I haven't told you my Chinese name yet. My name is Lu Zhiwei, the 'Zhiwei' from 'seeing the small to know the great,' isn't that fitting?"
Zhou Yue looked up, paused when he heard the name, then chuckled softly, but the laugh was bitter: "...Damn, you two even have one character in your names that you share."
"Her name is Xia Zhiyao."
“Xia Zhiyao…” She gently savored the name, as if carefully placing it into her memory.
She looked at the traces of light and weariness mingled in his eyes, blinked, and smiled, a smile that wasn't sharp, but even carried a hint of genuine admiration: "I definitely want to meet this young lady sometime."
"I want to see what kind of person could turn you into this."
After saying that, she picked up her phone, swiped her finger across the screen a few times, then looked up at him, tilted her head, and waved the phone screen at him: "I've given you my WeChat. Contact me if you need anything, whether it's seeing a psychologist or... anything else."
Her smile deepened, ending with the playful banter typical of the night: "A handsome guy like you, I don't want to let him go easily."
She winked playfully, her tone superficial, but her next sentence became more serious, dropping the lightness and joke and taking on a professional yet gentle seriousness: "In my experience, you really should see a psychologist in this state."
Her eyes were calm and clear, as if they could penetrate the undercurrents and cracks behind his layers of rationality. "Your anxiety has already shown obvious physical manifestations."
She said softly, "Especially the irritation, detachment, insomnia... if left untreated, they can easily develop into clinical anxiety disorder."
She paused, as if considering her words or confirming whether he was listening, then slowly spoke, her tone firm yet deliberate: "Whether she comes back or not is her choice. But you, you still have to live well."
After saying that, she walked to the door, then turned back as if remembering something, a subtle smile playing on her lips: "I'll send you some over-the-counter sleeping pills. Try them first. At least get a good night's sleep. If they don't work, see a doctor. I'll recommend some reliable ones."
The door closed, and the room fell silent once more.
He leaned back on the sofa, still holding the half-finished can of Coke in his hand. The bubbles rose gently from the can's opening, and the soft popping sound was exceptionally clear in the darkness, like the only thing still moving and alive in this long night.
Lu Zhiwei wasn't Xia Zhiyao, but she sat there and said so much to him, finally giving him an outlet for the words that had been choking him. That alone was enough to keep Zhou Yue from completely collapsing that night.
The room was completely dark; he turned off all the lights. Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes, as if trying to temporarily shut down all his senses through the darkness.
The more she tried to block it out, the more her body acted like a traitor, uncontrollably remembering her scent, the way her eyes lifted slightly when she spoke, her departing figure... Those details, like fine needles, were sewn inch by inch into her bones and blood. The slightest movement would cause pain throughout her body, making it impossible to move an inch.
He even began to hate this physiological reaction, hating its brevity and numbness, like a painkiller that comes on quickly and goes away even faster, while it is powerless to reach the truly torn areas.
He sat on the hotel sofa, covering his face with his hands. Between his palms was suffocated breathing, stinging eyes, and a heart pounding with suppressed alcohol, almost bursting with excitement.
He didn't want anything; he just missed her so much, he was going crazy with longing, every nerve in his body was taut in the night, and the slightest touch would cause excruciating pain.
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