He Thought She’d Never Leave—Until She Did - Chapter 22

During all those years An He had lived in the Song family, she’d always smiled shyly whenever she saw Song Yu—never once had she looked at him with such cold fury.

Song Yu stared at her, memories flashing through his mind like knives carving at his chest. His voice came out hoarse and pained. “Do you really care that much about him?”

“Yes,” An He’s voice was icy. “I care about him.”

Those four words nearly killed Song Yu. He staggered backward, shaking his head again and again. “No. I don’t believe you. I don’t.”

An He didn’t care whether he believed her or not. “Song Yu, this is the first and the last time. If you ever dare to lay a hand on Tang Wei again, I won’t let you off!”

The past came rushing in like a flood. That year, after school, a few thugs had blocked Song Yu’s way, demanding protection money.

An He had happened to walk by. The moment she saw it, she ran straight over and stood in front of him, saying, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”

She had been terrified then, trembling all over—but she still threw herself in front of him without hesitation.

That was the moment Song Yu’s opinion of her began to change.

But now, though the memories remained, the person before him was unrecognizable. She still instinctively stepped forward to protect—but she no longer protected him.

A sharp pain stabbed through his chest. He pressed a hand over it, frowning. “Hehe, don’t treat me like this.”

It hurt. God, it hurt so much.

An He acted as if she didn’t see his anguish. She brushed aside the hand reaching for her and pulled Tang Wei along. “Let’s go. We’re going home.”

The two of them walked away together.

Song Yu rushed out after them, but all he saw were the retreating taillights—and through the car window, the man and woman sitting so close their bodies nearly merged into one silhouette.

He ran like a madman after the car, but no one could outrun a vehicle. Within seconds, they were gone.

Zhou Heng was in the middle of a date when Song Yu summoned him. The moment he walked in and saw him, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Pointing to the blood on Song Yu’s shirt, he blurted out, “Man, what the hell? You trying to kill yourself?”

Song Yu lifted a bottle of liquor, tilted his head back, and drank deeply before turning away unsteadily.

Zhou Heng followed him inside and froze when he saw the table covered with empty bottles. “You drank all that? Are you insane?”

He counted—five bottles. Not dead yet, but close.

“It’s just a woman, for God’s sake. Is it worth dying over?”

Song Yu sat down heavily on the carpet, legs sprawled out, giving him a scornful glance. “What do you know.”

Zhou Heng rubbed his nose. “Yeah, yeah, I don’t know anything. But if you’re so smart, why did you hurt her like that? Now she won’t even look at you, and you’re falling apart.”

Harsh but true.

“Forget her,” Zhou Heng said. He’d heard about An He and her business partner—and seen how they interacted. The man clearly liked her. And honestly, Zhou Heng thought that was good for her.

She’d suffered enough; she deserved someone who treated her right.

“I can’t forget her.” Just the mention of her name made Song Yu’s expression collapse. He gulped down another mouthful of alcohol.

Zhou Heng snatched the bottle from him. “That’s enough.”

But there were still more bottles on the floor. Song Yu leaned over to grab one. “I didn’t ask you here to talk. I asked you to drink.”

Zhou Heng frowned. “Look at yourself. No woman would like you like this—not even An He.”

“I don’t need anyone else to like me. I just need An He to like me.” Song Yu rubbed his face, voice raw with pain. “Help me, Zhou Heng. I think I’ve really lost her this time.”

Zhou Heng sighed helplessly. “You and An He just aren’t meant to be. Maybe you should let her go.”

“Who said we’re not meant to be?” Song Yu snapped. He clenched his fist so tightly his nails broke skin and blood welled out. “An He and I are meant for each other. Tang Wei isn’t.”

When a man lost his mind over love, it was terrifying. Zhou Heng shook his head. “Fine, fine. You two are meant to be.”

“Your hand’s bleeding. You need it bandaged. Should I take you to the hospital?”

“No.” Song Yu didn’t want to go anywhere. He just wanted to keep drinking.

Helpless, Zhou Heng called the family doctor. Half an hour later, the doctor arrived—but the treatment didn’t go smoothly.

Song Yu refused to cooperate, muttering, “Don’t treat me. Let me die.”

Zhou Heng had never met such a stubborn patient. To calm him down, he offered, “All right, all right. I’ll go get An He. You two can talk.”

Song Yu’s head snapped up. “You can really bring her here?”

“I’ll try,” Zhou Heng said. “I’ll do my best.”

On the way, he rehearsed what to say—running through several versions before settling on the most dramatic one.

“Hehe, it’s me—Zhou Heng. Remember me?”

Of course, An He remembered. Zhou Heng had always been close to Song Yu. They used to hang out together often. Her impression of him had been decent enough.

“Yes, I remember.”

Zhou Heng pressed his lips together. “It’s like this—Song Yu’s sick. Really sick. But he refuses to go to the hospital. I don’t know what else to do. Could you come see him?”

An He neither moved nor spoke.

Zhou Heng continued, “I know Song Yu was a bastard—he hurt you. But he really loves you, I swear. Please, just see him once. If you don’t, he’s going to die.”

“He’s that sick?” An He asked quietly.

“Very. Keeps talking nonsense, calling your name. He even coughed up blood.” Zhou Heng exaggerated, desperate. “Hehe, please. Go see him, just once. You can’t be that heartless.”

“We were together once, right? Just go see him one time. I’m begging you.”

When he saw her hesitation, he pushed harder. “You don’t know how hard these past five years have been for him. He’s never stopped thinking about you—not for a single moment. He said his biggest regret was not loving you properly. Hehe, listen to me—just go, okay?”

The old An He might have gone. But the woman standing before him now…

Her face remained blank. “Whether he lives or dies has nothing to do with me. If he wants to die, let him. Sorry—I’m busy.”

She moved to close the door, but Zhou Heng blocked it with his foot. “Hehe, can’t you just see him once?”

“I can’t.” She glanced inside the house. “I have a guest.”

“A guest? What kind?” Zhou Heng craned his neck—and saw a pair of men’s shoes by the sofa. A man was sitting there, though An He’s figure blocked his face.

He immediately assumed it was Tang Wei. Seriously? They’re living together now?

Everyone knew their marriage was fake—but now it didn’t seem fake at all. It looked real.

“It won’t take long, I promise. Just a few minutes.”

“Sorry. I’m really busy.”

“Is it your guest who doesn’t want you to go? I can talk to him,” Zhou Heng offered, wanting to put Tang Wei in his place—to remind him that An He belonged to Song Yu.

But An He didn’t give him the chance. “It’s late. Please leave.”

She shut the door firmly in his face.

Zhou Heng almost hit his nose on the door. He stood there a moment, then sighed. He’d done his best—but she hadn’t given him an inch.

Song Yu waited for hours, but An He never came. Eventually, he turned back to the bottle. His laughter was uglier than tears.

Zhou Heng could only try again. “Since An He’s moved on, maybe you should too.”

“I’m not moving on. I only want her.” Song Yu’s drunken voice slurred.

“It’s not about what you want anymore,” Zhou Heng snapped. “She doesn’t want you. You brought this on yourself.”

Song Yu knew it too—he deserved it. But what could he do? Time didn’t go backward. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t return to the past.

“Hehe… Hehe… Hehe…” He drank and called her name, again and again.

Unable to stop him, Zhou Heng ended up drinking with him. The night ended with Song Yu vomiting blood and being rushed to the hospital.

It took two hours to save his life.

Panicked, Zhou Heng called An He. “Hehe, Song Yu’s in the hospital with stomach bleeding. Could you come see him?”

There was a rustling sound on the other end, then after a long pause, she said, “Sorry. I don’t have time.”

“No time? What are you so busy with?”

The phone changed hands. A man’s voice came through. “We’re in bed.”

Zhou Heng: “……”

He recognized Tang Wei’s voice immediately. Before he could curse, the call disconnected. When he dialed again, the phone was off.

An He was in bed with another man, while Song Yu lay half-dead in a hospital bed. The more Zhou Heng thought about it, the angrier he got. He decided that once Song Yu woke up, he’d tell him the truth—maybe that would finally break him.

But he underestimated how deep Song Yu’s obsession ran.

The moment he heard, Song Yu tore out his IV and stormed out of the hospital to find her.

Zhou Heng tried to stop him but lost him almost immediately.

It was a cold night. Song Yu, wearing nothing but a thin dress shirt, appeared at An He’s door and pounded on it. “Hehe! Open the door! Open up!”

An He woke from sleep, threw on a coat, and went to answer. When she saw who it was, she instinctively tried to close the door—but his hand shot out to stop it.

“Hehe, I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to listen.”

Seeing her resolute expression, he forced down his pain. “It won’t take long. I’ll leave right after.”

“And if I still don’t want to hear it?”

“Then I’ll wait—until you do. But I have to say it tonight.”

The noise drew the attention of a neighbor across the hall. The woman poked her head out. “It’s the middle of the night! What’s all this racket?”

An He murmured an apology and stepped aside, letting Song Yu in.

It was his first time in her home. He didn’t say a word—just turned and pulled her into his arms. “Hehe, I miss you. I miss you so much.”

So much he thought he might die of it.

An He struggled hard but couldn’t break free. “Let go!”

“No, I won’t.” He clung to her desperately, terrified that if he let go, he’d never touch her again. “Can I just stay like this for a while?”

“No.” She kicked him hard in the leg.

He cried out in pain and released her. She stepped back and pointed to the door. “If you’re not here to talk sense, get out.”

“No. I have to talk.” Song Yu’s voice broke as he nearly dropped to his knees. “Hehe, please… don’t push me away.”