What Happened to the Girl Who Was Kept by Someone at a Young Age? Chapter 2

"Is it because I found another girl?" He took a sip of his drink and smiled. "So you've learned to be jealous?"

Just one drink.

With just one drink, he regained his composure. I guess I didn't matter much to him at all.

"You're right, you're 23 now. You've been sensible these past few years. Not like those girls who always dream of marrying me."

"Thank you, Mr. Thompson."

He sat down beside me, his large hand resting on my leg.

"What are your plans now?"

"I want... to travel."

"Alright. Since you've decided to leave, go to the housekeeper tomorrow for some money. I'll treat you to dinner in the evening."

I nodded. Indeed, I needed this "severance pay" from him.

He thought for a moment. "Do you need me to arrange a job for you?"

I shook my head.

"So... you'll stay in New York?"

Seeing I didn't answer, he added, "I don't mean anything by it. Just thought we might get together sometime in the future."

Of course, I didn't misunderstand his intention.

Get together anytime, for what? Just to book a room? What else was there between us?

I remained silent, neither refusing nor agreeing directly.

"Let's not talk about this. Get some sleep. I have a meeting early tomorrow. Don't forget to make me breakfast."

The next day, I moved out of Mr. Thompson's villa.

He gave me a generous severance package. Combined with what I'd saved over the years, I had about $250,000 - enough to live in this city for over a decade.

But not enough to settle down.

I guess that's why those "girls" Mr. Thompson mentioned wanted to marry him.

After being a mistress for years, I still couldn't stay.

I called Cindy and talked for a long time.

She said, "Did you really think being a mistress for a few years would let you settle down in a big city? Don't dream, girl. Our bodies and faces combined aren't worth as much as those plots of land. You've got to keep hustling."

"But don't worry, you don't have to hustle yourself. The urgent task is to find someone who can hustle for you. Get married."

03

Cindy was the bar owner where I worked part-time. She always looked out for me.

She said I didn't look like the type of girl who'd work in such a place. "Seeing you dressed like them makes me a bit sad."

She said she used to do this too, and was even more popular than me. In the era when internet images loaded slowly, bosses had few channels to find beautiful women, so someone like Cindy was especially precious. Bosses bought her jewelry and bags, took her traveling around the world.

But no one married her.

"You must get out of this life, as soon as possible," she told me after I broke up with Mr. Thompson. "Youth is the biggest capital for people like us. Every day you delay marriage, you lose a day of your worth."

"But getting married isn't hard, especially for us. So stop drinking at my place every day. You won't find good men here. You need to go out and fish."

Cindy suggested I travel abroad, to America or Europe, because the expensive flights and high living costs would at least filter out the poorest men.

Later, I set my sights on a small island called Tasmania in Australia.

A heart-shaped island.

Not just for the romance, but because it was far away.

The farther, the more I felt I could escape my past with Mr. Thompson.

In Tasmania, I met Jack.

04 - Jack

Lucy was the most perfect girlfriend I'd ever had.

I met her during my graduation trip to Australia.

The day we met was like a fairy tale.

There's an island in Australia called Tasmania, shaped like a heart. It's considered the holy grail of Australian tourist destinations.

I had been studying for my master's in Australia for over a year, too busy with coursework to date. So I was hoping for a bit of romance during the trip.

Luckily, Lucy was in the Chinese tour group I joined.

I was sitting in the back of the bus when I saw her board and take a seat in the third row by the aisle.

Just those few steps from the door to her seat were enough to make my heart skip a beat.

Her long hair fell over her shoulders, she wore a light camisole top and tight jeans, with a sliver of ankle visible between the jeans and her sneakers, so delicate it looked like you could encircle it with one hand. Her face was pure, with eyes reminiscent of the actress in that old TV series "Chinese Paladin" from over a decade ago.

I'm not a shy person. While the bus wasn't full yet, I counted down in my head - three, two, one - then got up and sat next to her.

We talked for the entire bus ride around the island.

Not just talking, of course. While making her laugh, I also casually probed for her basic information, and she seemed to play along.

A girl from the South, 22 years old, graduated from an Ivy League school, Gemini, likes Japanese hot pot, works in administration in New York.

Recently single.

Romance happens quickly when traveling.

That evening, on this heart-shaped island of Tasmania, we - two people who had known each other for less than 5 hours - stood barefoot where the sea met the sand and held hands.

She had changed into a white dress, wearing a cute straw hat and small white flip-flops. The sea breeze lifted her skirt, outlining her slender, beautiful figure in the moonlight, like the final frame of a Japanese anime ending.

She seemed too good to be just 20 years old.

After Tasmania, we traveled to many places in Australia together. Lucy always arranged all the itineraries in advance, researching every attraction, booking flights, hotels, or Airbnbs.

She considered whether we'd get enough sleep each day, if we were eating enough vegetables, scolded me for wearing my jacket to bed, and ordered me to sleep early.

She always woke up before me.

The sight of her making breakfast in her nightgown was incredibly alluring.

I thought she was the girl I liked, someone I could spend my life with.

I thought, if our relationship could stabilize, even for just half a year, I wouldn't be able to resist proposing to her.

But the day before we were to return home, she suddenly said to me: "Let's get married."

I was stunned, feeling a mix of happiness and panic. "Marriage?"

Lucy nodded, "Marry me."

"Are you serious? We've only known each other for 20 days."

"17 days and 7 hours, but I think it's enough. I can marry you. I'll give you two months to think about it. If you agree, bring me to meet your parents."

The next day, Lucy returned home alone.

Since she had booked all the tickets and itineraries, I didn't have a return ticket.

For the next two months, Lucy didn't let me see her again.

But the less I saw her, the more I remembered all the good things she did for me.

Every moment of our time together was vivid in my memory.

We watched the sunrise together at the easternmost point of Australia, posed like in the "Titanic" poster, went diving at the Great Barrier Reef where she took off her oxygen mask 20 meters underwater to kiss me, visited the glow worm caves where she made me sing surrounded by tens of thousands of "stars" in the enclosed cave.

"What should I sing? 'Fireflies'?" I asked her.

She pointed, "Look at their country's glow worms, not a single one flying. That song doesn't fit the scene."

"Then what should I sing?"

She thought for a while, "Let's go with 'Fireflies' after all."

"Didn't you say it doesn't fit?"

"I suddenly want to hear you sing it."

I thought, I'd never find a girl more wonderful than her.

After waiting anxiously for two months, we met again at the agreed place.

I bought a $25,000 diamond ring, got down on one knee and said: "Marry me."

She started crying, suddenly kneeling down too and hugging me so tight I could barely breathe. She said to sell the ring, she didn't need it.

"As long as you love me, that's enough. I have someone who loves me now, I have someone who loves me."

05

It was just around Christmas time. I brought Lucy to my family home up north for the holiday dinner.

Everyone loved her.

She was beautiful, had a lovely voice, and carried herself with grace in everything she did. She helped my mom make dumplings, rolling out the wrappers more skillfully than my mom. At the dinner table, she didn't drink but kept smiling and listening to everyone's drunken ramblings, then cleaned up afterwards, washing dishes and doing all the chores as if she were already the woman of the house.

My mom said, "Such a beautiful girl who can do all this, what more could you ask for, son?"

My aunt said, "Where are you two settling down? If you need help buying a house, let your uncle chip in!"

My uncle said, "Hurry up and find a job to support your family. With such a good wife, you better be able to provide for her."

And my brothers and sisters, while their words were full of jealousy and resentment, I'm sure in their hearts they all adored Lucy.

It was the happiest Christmas I'd ever had.

"But I feel like I've seen your girlfriend somewhere before," my cousin, the oldest of us younger folks, said. "Where does she work?"

"In New York," I answered for Lucy.

"I work in New York too, as an executive assistant. What do you do?"

Lucy hesitated for a moment, "Oh, I work in administration."

"Carrying that kind of bag, you must earn quite a bit." My cousin took a sip of her drink. "Thompson Group, Mr. Thompson, do you know him?"