Chapter 2: The First Crack

Ye Qingyu’s small apartment, eleven at night.

He sat at his computer, the screen showing a list of cancer hospitals in Germany, Singapore, and the United States. His phone rang. It was his mother.

“Hello, Mom.”

“Son, Dr. Lin just called me.” Her voice trembled over the line. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long were you planning to hide this from me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the chair.

“How could I not worry! You’re my only son!” She burst into tears. “And Ruoyi? How long are you going to hide it from her? She’s about to become your wife. You have no right to keep this from her!”

“It’s exactly because she’s about to become my wife,” Ye Qingyu replied, his voice catching, “that I can’t let her know. You know what Ruoyi is like. If she finds out, she’ll drop everything to be with me. She’ll nurse me through every round of chemo and watch me fall apart day by day. And if… if I don’t make it, she’ll have lost the best years of her life for a dying man.”

“You…”

“Mom, I’ve made up my mind.” He cut her off, his voice firm. “I’m going to Germany for treatment. Alone. I’ll find a way to make Ruoyi leave me of her own accord, so she doesn’t have to wait without hope, so she can go on living her own life.”

“You’ve lost your mind!” his mother cried into the phone. “You think that’s good for her? You think she’ll thank you for lying to her?”

“I don’t need her to thank me,” he said, tears falling silently. “I only need her to be happy, even if I’m not part of that happiness.”

The call ended with his old mother’s choked sobs. Ye Qingyu sat motionless in the dark, gripping his phone, staring at the screen that was still lit, where a flight itinerary to Frankfurt showed a departure three weeks away.

The next morning, at their usual café.

“What did you want to see me about?” Ruoyi sat down, taking in Ye Qingyu’s unusually serious expression.

He slid a folder toward her. “The company’s sending me to the German branch. Two years. I’ve decided to accept.”

Ruoyi froze. “Two years? Why didn’t you talk to me before you decided?”

“It’s a good opportunity for my career,” he said, keeping his voice even. “I thought you’d understand.”

“I understand your career matters,” Ruoyi said, her voice beginning to shake, “but we were planning to get married at the end of this year. Now you’re telling me you’re leaving for two years. What about us?”

“Maybe,” Ye Qingyu took a deep breath, bracing himself for the words he knew would shatter his own heart, “we should take a break. I don’t want you waiting two years for someone far away, not knowing when he’ll come back or what the future holds.”

Ruoyi stared at him, her eyes slowly turning red. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“I think it’s the best choice for both of us.” He avoided her eyes, his hands clenched under the table so tightly his nails dug into his palms.

“Ye Qingyu, look at me.” Ruoyi took his hand on the table, her voice choked. “Look me in the eye and say that again, if you really mean it.”

He raised his head and looked into her tear-filled eyes. It was the hardest moment of his life, harder than hearing the diagnosis, harder than facing the death that might be waiting ahead.

“We should break up, Ruoyi,” he said, each word a knife in his heart. “I don’t think my feelings are strong enough anymore to keep up a long-distance relationship like that.”

It was the cruelest lie he had ever told.

Ruoyi pulled her hand back as if she’d been burned, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You’re… you’re lying. I don’t believe you. Three years together. I know how much you love me. Those feelings can’t just disappear because of two years apart.”

“People change, Ruoyi.” He kept his voice as cold as he could, even though every word made him want to collapse. “Maybe I’ve changed.”

She stood up, her hands trembling as she picked up her bag. “Fine. If that’s what you want, I won’t hold on.” She turned and walked away, but at the door she stopped. Without turning around, she said softly, “But I will never believe that the last three years were a lie, Ye Qingyu. Never.”

The café door closed. Ye Qingyu sat alone and finally let the tears fall, soaking the flight documents to Germany on the table.