The “Strawberry Juice” That Saved My Son Chapter 09

The “Strawberry Juice” That Saved My Son Chapter 09

The day of the cremation arrived.

Ethan personally opened the cardboard box that held my clothes.

Inside was a white dress.

The style was simple.

It was the dress he had bought for my twentieth birthday after saving three months of his allowance.

Back then, I had teased him for his old-fashioned taste.

But after that, I wore it on every important day.

He took the dress out slowly and gently, as if afraid of wrinkling it.

His hand was still wrapped in gauze.

Blood seeped through and stained the white fabric.

He lowered his head and looked at it.

His fingers tried clumsily to brush away the stain, but he only smeared it wider.

He gave up and began changing my clothes.

I floated beside him and watched.

This man, who could lift concrete slabs in the ruins with his bare hands, could not line up one tiny button

now.

His fingers shook badly.

He tried several times, and sweat covered his forehead.

At last, he managed to put the dress on me.

Then he opened my makeup bag and took out an eyebrow pencil and lipstick.

I had not used those things in a long time.

He held the eyebrow pencil and hovered over my brows for a long while, unable to make the first stroke.

“I haven’t watched you do this in so long. I forgot how.”

He spoke softly, as if explaining to me and to himself.

In the end, the brows he drew were crooked.

Then he dabbed lipstick onto his finger and slowly touched it to my lips.

When he finished, he took two steps back and looked at me.

“Now… you don’t look like sofueone who’s gone.”

I looked at the unfamiliar version of myself in the mirror.

I also looked at the red in his eyes.

Ethan, were you lying to yourself, or to me?

My mother led Noah into the room.

Noah held a carton of strawberry milk tightly in his hand.

It was his favorite kind.

He walked to my side and stood on his toes, trying hard to place the milk beside my pillow.

“Mommy, I won’t drink this anymore. This is for you.”

His voice was thick with tears. He sniffed hard.

“Can you wake up?”

Ethan turned away abruptly, his back facing us.

His shoulders shook hard.

He did not dare look at Noah.

He did not dare look at me again.

A staff member came over and signaled that it was time.

The coffin lid slowly closed.

With a soft thud, the last light was cut off.

My soul swayed.

I felt so light that I seemed about to float away.

Ethan did not let anyone help.

He pushed the small cart to the cremation room by himself.

Step by step, he walked with painful slowness.

My mother held Noah and turned her head away, unable to watch.

She reached out and covered Noah’s eyes.

The staff member pressed the start button.

I felt a great pull come from the mouth of the furnace.

My soul was dragged forward and grew thinner and thinner.

Everything around me began to blur.

Ethan’s kneeling figure became a twisted shadow.

It was time to go.

“Joy!”

“Next life! In the next life, don’t meet me again! Don’t love me again!”

My soul had become so transparent it was almost gone.

I floated to his side and took one last look at his face, twisted with pain.

I leaned close to his ear.

“Idiot. In the next life, just treat me better.”

My voice scattered into the air.

From the tall chimney, a thin line of pale smoke rose.

Soon, it disappeared into the wind.

There was no Joy left in this world.