Chapter 7

As the weather turned colder, Shanghai began its relentless autumn rain. Jessica, who was always chilled easily and disliked rainy days, found her workload increasing dramatically. The financial sector's "Golden September and Silver October" brought new targets from the company, adding pressure on her as a key team member.

Meanwhile, Daniel entered his final year of university, hastily preparing for graduation. The imminent thrust into society left him bewildered on all fronts: academics, career, and emotions. He wasn't ready to grow up but was forced to make decisions alone, like a man. He had no answers or solutions and knew he didn't want to move to Shanghai.

The pressure made Jessica more fragile and Daniel less patient. She cried out in frustration, "Where are you when I need you the most? Do you know I walk alone every day, my feet are sore, I've been ill, I've been bullied at work—where are you then?"

Daniel increasingly avoided confronting his tearful girlfriend, leading to daily arguments. He became reticent, a stark contrast to his previous joy in their conversations. Now, he preferred solitude, gaming, and sleep, finding even a single word too exhausting to utter.

Both were nearing their breaking points.

One day, Jessica, burdened with her heavy, document-filled leather bag and carrying gifts for clients in both hands, struggled in the rain without a free hand for an umbrella. Her shoulders bruised from the straps, her high heels and lower legs splattered with mud. The damp shoes chilled her, entwining her body with discomfort. She started to feel stomach pains.

"Ten orders to complete today, keep going," she told herself.

Hiding in the restroom, she tidied her disheveled appearance, dried her white shirt with a hand dryer, cleaned the smeared mascara, reapplied her lipstick, and, with a smile, entered the client's office.

Order after order was signed, lightening her physical and metaphorical load, allowing her a moment to check her phone while walking. But the disappointment was palpable—no message from him. As evening approached, she realized she knew nothing of his day—his wake-up time, what he had for lunch, his worries, or joys. She had traversed half of Shanghai, securing deals with three companies through her expertise and effort. Exhausted, her smile stiffened, her feet ached, yet she felt a sense of accomplishment. She had grown accustomed to the perennial chill and dampness of her attire, to the pain in her feet countered by the assertive click of her heels on the ground. She relished the sound of confidence those steps invoked. However, she couldn't get used to the loneliness of having no one to share these moments with.

Finally, one evening, worn out and enveloped in Shanghai's clingy, detestable rain, she said, "Let's break up."

Unexpectedly, he didn't protest. His text simply read, "Okay."

His calm response unleashed a tumultuous wave of emotions within her. Her grievances poured out as she wept bitterly, launching into a tirade of accusations, complaints, and questions.

"Do you still love me?" she asked softly after crying herself out.

After a long silence, he replied, "I don't know what love is anymore."

Despairingly, she turned off her phone, her pride preventing any further communication.