I Said “None of Your Business” to the Man I Loved. Then He Moved Out.

The Door

Friday, 9 p.m. Only two people were left in the office.

Xiao Zhao poked his head out from his cubicle. “Sister Anning, finish this spreadsheet for me. I have plans.”

Xu Anning had already turned off her computer. She turned her phone face down and set it on the desk. “I have plans today.”

Xiao Zhao froze. She hadn’t said that in three years. Xu Anning put on her bag. She zipped it halfway, then zipped it back. She stepped into the elevator and pressed 1. Her fingers trembled in the mirror. She put her hands in her pockets.

At the convenience store downstairs, she bought a tea egg. It was hot. She tossed it between her hands twice, didn’t peel it, and walked two blocks.

Saturday, her mother’s house.

Her mother set the fish on the table. “You’re thirty-two.” Xu Anning picked up a piece of fish and put it in her mother’s bowl. “Mom, eat fish.” Her mother kept going. “Aunt Liu’s son. One year younger than you. He works at a bank.” Xu Anning stood up and went to the kitchen to wash dishes. The water ran loud. Her mother’s voice followed from the living room. “Did you hear me?” She turned off the water, dried her hands, walked back to the table. “I’m not going.”

Her mother said nothing. Chopsticks rested on the rim of the bowl. Xu Anning went downstairs to buy soy sauce. She sat on a bench in the compound for ten minutes. She didn’t buy soy sauce. When she came home, her mother had reheated the fish a second time.

Monday noon, Ahe sent a message. “Have you changed? You weren’t like this before.”

Xu Anning typed: “I haven’t changed.” Deleted it. Typed again: “If you need help, tell me the specific thing. If you need me to prove we’re friends, I won’t.” Ahe didn’t reply.

She put the phone in her pocket and went to the convenience store for water. The freezer door was cold. She took a bottle, put it back, and chose a room-temperature one.

That night, Lu Chen was cooking noodles in the kitchen. Xu Anning stood beside him, changing the water for the pothos. He said, “My parents want to meet you. I told them yes. This weekend.”

She carried the pothos to the windowsill. Water dripped from the bottom of the pot onto the floor. She said, “You said yes. You go.”

Lu Chen frowned. “What do you mean?”

She wiped the windowsill with a rag. “I mean, it counts only if I say yes myself.”

He didn’t speak. The noodles rolled in the pot. He turned down the heat and put the lid on.

Wednesday night, Lu Chen cooked noodles again. The kitchen was narrow. He came close and put his hand on the back of her neck. She didn’t pull away. He lowered his head. The phone rang.

Her mother.

She declined it. He came close again. The phone rang again. She looked at the screen. He said, “Answer it.”

She answered. Her mother said, “Aunt Liu’s son…” She said, “Mom, I’m eating.” Hung up.

Lu Chen had already turned away. The noodles were soggy. He dumped them in the trash.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Soggy.”

The faucet wasn’t closed tight. Drip. Drip. She reached over and turned it off, all the way. Her hand was wet.

Friday, Lu Chen put a registration form on the table. “I signed you up for yoga. You’ve been too tense lately.”

Xu Anning looked at the form. She pushed it back. The edge of the paper cut his finger. He pulled his hand back. A bead of blood appeared.

He said, “I was only trying to help.”

She said, “None of your business.”

He stood there, finger bleeding. He pressed a tissue to it. The tissue turned red in one spot.

“Then decide for yourself,” he said.

He went into the bedroom and closed the door. The latch clicked.

Xu Anning stood in the living room. The TV was off. Her face reflected in the black screen. She walked over, raised her hand, wanted to knock. Her hand stopped in midair. She lowered it. She took her keys and went out.

She walked three laps downstairs. When she came back, the bedroom door was locked. She slept on the sofa. The blanket smelled of laundry detergent. She lay awake until dawn.

Lu Chen moved out on a sunny day.

He packed boxes. The tape tore loudly. She stood at the door and didn’t help. When he left, he said, “Take care.” She said, “You too.” The door closed.

The water dispenser was empty. She changed the jug. It was too heavy. Water spilled. She wiped it with a rag. Halfway through, the rag stopped on the floor. She didn’t cry. She kept wiping.

That night she ordered takeout. One chopstick broke. She used the other. A leaf on the pothos turned yellow. She cut it off. There was dust under the keyboard cover. She lifted it and wiped it clean. The phone rang. Ahe: “You there?” She didn’t reply. The TV turned on, then off. The fridge hummed.

A month later, Xu Anning went to the building where Lu Chen worked.

She held two cups of soy milk. He came out and saw her. She held one out. He didn’t take it.

“Why are you here?”

“That day I pushed you away because I was afraid you’d decide for me,” she said. “Now I want to ask you. What do you still need me to do?”

He took the soy milk. Condensation covered the cup. He wiped it once.

“What should I do?” he asked.

“You ask me.”

He looked at her. “Will you come meet my parents this weekend?”

“I will,” she said. “But I have to say yes myself.”

He nodded. Red light. They stood at the intersection. The green light came on. He walked first. She followed. They didn’t hold hands.

Sunday, her mother’s house. Her mother said, “Aunt Liu’s son…”

Xu Anning picked up a piece of fish and put it in her mother’s bowl. “Mom, eat fish.”

Her mother picked it up and ate. Xu Anning ate too. A fish bone stuck in her throat. She drank vinegar. Her mother said, “Slow down.”

She nodded. Outside the window, a child ran past.