Chapter 3The Handshake

I work in HR at my unit.

When it comes to observing people and interpersonal relationships, I am relatively more experienced and thorough than others.

For example, I saw at a glance.

Ethan's abnormal behavior today stemmed from wanting to serve Sarah that bowl of soup.

Why would Ethan suddenly care so much about Sarah?

I couldn't help but think back to two months ago.

Tiger's father passed away. As a fellow townsman, Ethan went back to offer condolences and visit his parents by the way.

He was gone for 5 days, going and returning with Tiger and his wife.

Could something have happened during this period?

Professional sensitivity has taught me not to jump to conclusions easily.

After all, objectively speaking, Ethan treats me quite well.

We met by the artificial lake in college.

He was the earliest person to go for morning reading every day.

I was second.

We are extremely similar.

From small places, poor family backgrounds.

Three generations of support produced a model of family glory.

For all these years, pressure and honor have focused on us, running all the way without daring to slack off even a bit.

I felt like I finally found a companion.

Like walking alone on the dark ocean floor and discovering I wasn't alone.

I think my significance to him is the same...

Regarding the incident at the dinner table during the day.

I didn't say a word.

At night, he held me, desire hard to suppress.

"Grace, not yet?"

"Yeah, not three months yet, wait a bit longer."

He panted heavily, got out of bed, and said helplessly: "I'll go take a cold shower."

When I was sleeping groggily, he woke me up.

He frowned.

"Tiger is drunk and smashing things again, I'll go check."

"Who called you?" I asked.

"...His wife. She and the kid were crying on the phone, seems serious."

I checked my phone, past eleven.

"Too late, don't go. If there's really a problem, she can call the police. Besides, this is their family affair, you aren't related to them—"

"Grace!"

Ethan suddenly shouted at me harshly.

I was stunned by his shout.

His face was full of impatience, a trace of strange irony in his eyes.

"When did you become so selfish? Now that your life is good, you just watch your own kind suffer? You know Sarah's character, would she ask me for help if she had a choice? Grace, aren't you ashamed of saying such cold words to a friend?"

I looked at him in astonishment.

As if I didn't know him.

I haven't quarreled with anyone for a long time.

Whether colleagues, family, or Ethan.

Long ago, I realized that quarreling doesn't solve problems; it only turns dialogue into a collision of emotions while gradually losing reason.

Even if we quarrel, it is a means, not an end.

Anger hurts the body.

Hurts one's own body.

At this moment, I closed my eyes and asked him calmly:

"My current life is what I struggled for step by step. Why should I feel ashamed because of others' misfortunes?"

Ethan stood by the bed, looking at me coldly.

"I'm definitely going today."

I don't know when Ethan came back at night.

When I went to work, his shoes were by the door.

The door to the small bedroom was closed tight.

I had an organizational review meeting that day.

Very important.

Couldn't be dragged down by his emotions.