Chapter 6:

"We go." Tom Hulce wrapped his arms around Mary Wickes' waist, constantly comforting her, but his hand on her back seemed in constant pain.

A hand pulled the corner of his shirt back, and he turned to see a pair of sad eyes.

He pursed his lips slightly, not saying a word.

"Tom, I'm in pain." Mary Wickes, crouched in his lap, said pitifully. Tom Hulce's eyes narrowed a little, remembering the other slap his arm used to let go of Demi Moore's hand.

"We don't have a relationship anymore." Letting go of her hand, he said ultimately, once again turned around and decided to leave.

Demi Moore's hand was still in the air, she moved her lips, but there was no sound.

The first time he pushed her away, she lost the baby, and this time went away, she lost her family.

She stared at their silhouettes, slowly turned around, and walked toward the house that no longer belonged to her. That's right, after today, that place won't be her home anymore.

Her family did not have one.

She opened the door to go in; a letter was falling from the gap in the door; she picked it up and held it in her hand but did not look at it once. There was only silence in the room now; everything was the same as two days ago; even the black underwear was still on the floor, making her heart feel like many knives were stabbing it.

They didn't come back either; she lost the baby for two days, was in a coma for two days, don't know where they were. Endless love? She lowered her head and breathed softly, seemingly unable to do anything other than this instinct.

She sat on the sofa, placed the letter on the table, and opened it, her fingers trembling a little. Inside was a divorce paper; the southern part was signed very well, and the handwriting was like a dragon flying and dancing; at this time, it was hurting her eyes again.

Holding the pen in her hand, she wanted to put it down a few times, but in the end, she still regretted it; she regretted it a lot; what to do now? She stood up, looking back at where she had been for two years, but now it was no longer her home. Opening the bedroom door, it was a mess inside, the bed was wrinkled and rumpled, but she also just stood and watched, not intending to clean it up.

'It's filthy.' She twitched her lips, but there was no voice.

She went in and took some clothes from the drawer, except for the clothes; she didn't want to bring anything else; everything in this place will not be hers.

Returning to the living room, she sat on the sofa, picked up the pen again, and signed it with trembling hands, making her signature extremely unsightly, different from the man's signature. She let go of the cell and looked at the ring she was wearing on her finger; her eyelashes blinked, and a tear welled up and fell on her finger.

No matter what nostalgia, more nostalgia will also change a turn of his head; he does not love her, does not love. Using force to remove the ring, the finger was painful, and a deep red line appeared. She never told him that her wedding ring was too small, which was very painful to wear, but she still wore it for two years… Putting the ring on the table, she stood up, looked at this place one last time,  after she took her suitcase and went out.

She has no relatives because she is an orphan, so she does not need other people to comfort her. Of course, there was also no one to comfort her… Closing her eyes, the wind outside sometimes blew on her face, drying her tears quickly; the divorce agreement said that this house would belong to her, he was generous, but she didn't want to dare to desire.

It takes courage to leave, even if it's just a turnaround. She went very fast, her heart ached a lot, but she couldn't care less about it, hurt, will it be too painful to feel pain anymore?

Putting down her suitcase, she sat on a stone bench by the roadside. The world is so big, but is there a hiding place for her? One night she hugged herself, her only friend was a suitcase on the street, the lights were on all night, and she didn't sleep all night.

Trying to pull her suitcase, she stood under an old, dilapidated house that seemed likely to collapse at any moment. Although it's a bit old, this place should be liveable, the rent is meager, and now she can only afford to rent it.

Most importantly, this place is far from the Hulce family.

She looked up at the dilapidated room. Sure enough, the inside was worse than the outside, but it was still livable, and it was better to be old than unclean. She likes cleanliness, determined not to stay in a dirty place.

From now on, she will be alone in this place, eating, sleeping, and crying. She has no relatives or friends, only a small suitcase with a few clothes; this is all her possessions; it seems the world is hers. Is this the beginning, or is it the end?

She has been here for many days and intends to stay; although it is ancient, it is pretty quiet, and usually, there is not much noise. She found a job as a translator. She used to do this too, but before, it was to kill time; now, it's to make a living. Fortunately, she still has this job, or she will die. She still wanted to live, no matter how painful that life was.

She wanted to see the world a little bit, see if it could get any darker, or instead, she was still trying to find some light in the dark, waiting for dawn to come, but it seemed she wouldn't get this chance.

This evening, without wind or rain, Demi Moore sat by the window, holding a cup of tea in her hand; the heat from the tea warmed her hands but did not warm her heart. The cold air was melting her heart, finally, into a bottomless abyss.

Whoever's heart has begun to become cold as ice may not be able to warm again.

Tom Hulce rubbed his eyelids and went inside; he frowned a little; the darkness inside made him not know how to go; he didn't like the dark like that. Turning on the light, too much light made him squint his eyes and slightly purse his lips, obviously a little unhappy.

He loosened his tie and sat down on the sofa.

"Demi, get me a glass of water." As he spoke these words, his fingers stiffened again; Demi, which was his wife's name.

He forgot about his divorce and that he was alone in this house. Bowing his head, he saw the divorce agreement on the table; two signatures were on the paper, so now they were no longer husband and wife.

When did she sign, and why did she sign so quickly? Shouldn't she be noisy or cry? How could he let go of her so fast? He also thought she would disagree, go mad to question him, maybe even cry and beg him… But all was not there, not even one thing; he didn't see her.

Divorce is not what you want; why is it so dazzling when looking at that signature? There is also an inexplicable loss in your heart; squinting your eyes, you take out cigarette leaves, one after another, the puff of smoke that blurs his face, even his heart.

He slammed his hand on the table, feeling a bit of pain when the finger was stabbed, he raised his hand, and his pupils shrank a little, staring at the ring on the table. Slightly smirking, he took it; his ring had not been worn for a long time because he didn't want Mary Wickes to be sad, always deliberately forgetting that he was married. But why did he think of all the previous things when he saw this ring?

The girl with a pure mint smile just walked out of his life. Didn't he still want to? Why did he suddenly feel nostalgic?

Cherish what, a nanny or a servant, or something else?

Loving the damn thing, he threw the ring out of his hand with all his strength, without making a sound, only seeing a small light flash and then fall; these two years of marriage had finally come to a point, Just like that ray of light that just lost, it will never come back.

Room is not needed, suitable, money is not required, excellent, Demi Moore, she is solid! He crumpled the divorce papers and smiled coldly. He wants to see how a person without relatives, without friends, will live; she will have to come back and beg him, saying that she did it to make him feel guilty, and she will pretend to be pitiful to make him agree, but unfortunately for her, he wouldn't.

Otherwise, how could he live so many years in this cruel marketplace?

His eyes were still staring at where the ring fell, not wanting to leave for a long time.

In the morning, sunlight penetrated through the pale blue window blinds and spread into the room, illuminating everything, including the black lingerie. It's been so many days; there's no female owner to clean it; it's still lying there, seemingly laughing at something.

Tom Hulce opened his eyes bewildered, rubbed his temples, and felt a slight headache. Since when did the bed he had slept in for more than two years become so complicated?