"When You Divorce Me, Carry Me Out in Your Arms"

On my wedding day, I carried my wife in my arms. The bridal car stopped in
front of our one-room flat. My buddies insisted that I carry her out of the
car in my arms. So I carried her into our home. She was then plump and shy.

I was a strong and happy bridegroom.

This was the scene ten years ago.

The following days were as simple as a cup of pure
water: we had a kid; I
went into business and tried to make more money. When the assets were
steadily increasing, the affection between us seemed to ebb. She was a civil
servant. Every morning we left home together and got home almost at the same
time. Our kid was studying in a boarding school.

Our marriage life seemed to be enviably happy. But the calm life was more
likely to be affected by unpredictable changes.


Dew came into my life.

It was a sunny day. I stood on a spacious balcony. Dew
hugged me from
behind. My heart once again was immersed in her stream
of love. This was the

apartment I bought for her.

Dew said, you are the kind of man who best draws
girls' eyeballs. Her words
suddenly reminded me of my wife. When we were just
married, my wife said,
Men like you, once successful, will be very attractive
to girls.


Thinking of this, I became somewhat hesitant. I knew I
had betrayed my wife.
But I couldn't help doing so.

I moved Dew's hands aside and said you go to select
some furniture, O.K.?
I've got something to do in the company. Obviously she
was unhappy, because

I had promised to do it together with her. At the
moment, the idea of
divorce became clearer in my mind although it used to
be something
impossible to me.

However, I found it rather difficult to tell my wife
about it. No matter how

mildly I mentioned it to her, she would be deeply
hurt.

Honestly, she was a good wife. Every evening she was
busy preparing dinner. I was sitting in front of the TV. The dinner was ready
soon. Then we watched

TV together. Or, I was lounging before the computer,
visualizing Dew's body.
This was the means of my entertainment.

One day I said to her in a slightly joking way,
suppose we divorce, what
will you do? She stared at me for a few seconds
without a word. Apparently

she believed that divorce was something too far away
from her. I couldn't imagine how she would react once she got to know I was
serious.

When my wife went to my office, Dew had just stepped
out. Almost all the staff looked at my wife with a sympathetic eye and
tried to hide something while talking to her. She seemed to have got some
hint. She gently smiled at my subordinates. But I read some hurt in her eyes.

Once again, Dew said to me, He Ning, divorce her,
O.K.? Then we live
together. I nodded. I knew I could not hesitate any
more.

When my wife served the last dish, I held her hand.
I've got something to
tell you, I said. She sat down and ate quietly. Again
I observed the hurt in

her eyes. Suddenly I didn't know how to open my mouth.
But I had to let her
know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised
the serious topic
calmly.

She didn't seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she
asked me softly, why?

I'm serious. I avoided her question. This so-called
answer made her angry.
She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you
are not a man!

That night, we didn't talk to each other. She was
weeping. I knew she wanted

to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I
could hardly give her a
satisfactory answer, because my heart had gone to Dew.

With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce
agreement which stated that

she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my
company. She glanced
at it and then tore it into pieces. I felt a pain in
my heart. The woman who
had been living ten years with me would become a
stranger one day. But I

could not take back what I had said.

Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was
what I had expected to
see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The
idea of divorce which
had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer
and clearer.


Late that night, I came back home after entertaining
my clients. I saw her
writing something at the table. I fall asleep fast.
When I woke up, I found
she was still there. I turned over and was asleep
again.


She brought up her divorce conditions: she didn't want
anything from me, but
I was supposed to give her one month s time before
divorce, and in the
month's time we must live as normal a life as
possible. Her reason was

simple: our son would finish his summer vacation a
month later and she
didn't want him to see our marriage was broken.

She passed me the agreement she drafted, and then
asked me, He Ning, do you
still remember how I entered our bridal room on the
wedding day? This

question suddenly brought back all those wonderful
memories to me. I nodded
and said, I remember. You carried me in your arms, she
continued, so, I have
a requirement, that is, you carry me out in your arms
on the day when we

divorce. From now to the end of this month, you must
carry me out from the
bedroom to the door every morning.

I accepted with a smile. I knew she missed those sweet
days and wished to
end her marriage romantically.


I told Dew about my wife s divorce conditions. She
laughed loudly and
thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she does,
she has to face the
result of divorce, she said scornfully. Her words more
or less made me feel

uncomfortable.

My wife and I hadn't had any body contact since my
divorce intention was
explicitly expressed. We even treated each other as a
stranger. So when I
carried her out on the first day, we both appeared
clumsy. Our son clapped

behind us, daddy is holding mummy in his arms. His
words brought me a sense
of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to
the door, I walked
over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her
eyes and said softly,

Let us start from today, don't tell our son. I nodded,
feeling somewhat
upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to
wait for a bus, I drove
to the office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily.
She leaned on my

chest. We were so close that I could smell the
fragrance of her blouse. I
realized that I hadn't looked at this intimate woman
carefully for a long
time. I found she was not young any more. There were
some fine wrinkles on

her face.

On the third day, she whispered to me, the outside
garden is being
demolished. Be careful when you pass there.

On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I seemed to
feel that we were still
an intimate couple and I was holding my sweetheart in
my arms. The
visualization of Dew became vague.

On the fifth and sixth day, she kept reminding me
something, such as, where
she put the ironed shirts, I should be careful while
cooking, etc. I nodded.

The sense of intimacy was even stronger. I didn't tell
Dew about this.

I felt it was easier to carry her. Perhaps the
everyday workout made me
stronger. I said to her, It seems not difficult to
carry you now. She was

picking her dresses. I was waiting to carry her out.
She tried quite a few
but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed,
all my dresses have
grown bigger. I smiled. But I suddenly realized that
it was because she was

thinner that I could carry her more easily, not
because I was stronger. I
knew she had buried all the bitterness in her heart.
Again, I felt a sense
of pain. Subconsciously I reached out a hand to touch
her head.


Our son came in at the moment. Dad, it's time to carry
mum out. He said. To
him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had
been an essential part of
his life. She gestured our son to come closer and
hugged him tightly. I

turned my face because I was afraid I would change my
mind at the last
minute. I held her in my arms, walking from the
bedroom, through the sitting
room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck
softly and naturally. I

held her body tightly, as if we came back to our
wedding day. But her much
lighter weight made me sad.

On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could
hardly move a step. Our
son had gone to school. She said, actually I hope you
will hold me in your

arms until we are old.

I held her tightly and said, both you and I didn't
notice that our life
lacked intimacy.

I jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the
door. I was afraid any
delay would make me change my decision. I walked
upstairs. Dew opened the

door. I said to her, Sorry, Dew, I won't divorce. I'm
serious.

She looked at me, astonished. The she touched my
forehead. You got no fever.
She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Dew, I
said, I can only say

sorry to you, I won't divorce. My marriage life was
boring probably because
she and I didn't value the details of life, not
because we didn't love each
other any more. Now I understand that since I carried
her into the home, she

gave birth to our child, I am supposed to hold her
until I am old. So I have
to say sorry to you.

Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud
slap and then slammed the
door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and
drove to the office.


When I passed the floral shop on the way, I ordered a
bouquet for my wife
which was her favorite. The salesgirl asked me what to
write on the card. I
smiled and wrote,
"I'll carry you out every morning
until we are old."



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