Waking up, I found two husbands in my bed.

Waking up, I found two husbands in my bed.

18-year-old Jake, with a sparkle in his eyes, said, "So, can I call you my wife now?"

I glanced at 28-year-old Jake, who was still pretending to be asleep, and shook my head.

"Nope, we're getting divorced soon."

1

The scar on 18-year-old Jake’s face was still pretty noticeable. Looking at it, the first thing I remembered was him, face covered in blood, grinning like a fool at the hospital, holding out a crushed bouquet of flowers as he confessed his feelings for me.

But now…

The divorce papers had been sitting in my drawer for two months already.

The noise of me and 18-year-old Jake waking up wasn’t exactly subtle.

I’d been startled by him, and he’d been startled by 28-year-old Jake.

28-year-old Jake still hadn’t opened his eyes. I wasn't sure if he was too tired to wake up, or if he was just avoiding me.

So, I took 18-year-old Jake into the living room and explained the situation.

"This is the house of 28-year-old me and you?"

18-year-old Jake stared at me for a long while, then hurried back into the bedroom.

He studied 28-year-old Jake’s face, then grabbed his phone, used his fingerprint to unlock it, and checked the time.

After that, he came out, his eyes shining.

"Hey, Amy, his phone has our wedding photo on the lock screen! How long have we been married?”

"Six years."

“So…so…can I call you my wife now?”

I looked at his hopeful face.

My heart felt like a barren wasteland.

Things that were hard for me to say to 28-year-old Jake, I suddenly could say to 18-year-old Jake.

Maybe it’s because, at this age, he still loved me.

I paused, then said, “No.”

“Because we're getting divorced soon.”

18-year-old Jake stared at me in disbelief, his eyes showing confusion and hurt.

But in the end, he just asked, cautiously, "Amy, did I do something wrong?"

I looked into his eyes.

They were still so bright, so full of hope.

My divorce papers had been printed out for ages.

But I hadn't been able to bring myself to pull them out.

Because I knew very well that it wasn't just 28-year-old Jake that I’d be letting go of.

There was also 22-year-old Jake, kneeling down at the company entrance to propose to me; 20-year-old Jake, skipping classes to take me stargazing; 18-year-old Jake, taking a knife for me and getting that scar; 12-year-old Jake, protecting me; 8-year-old Jake, huddling together with me to keep warm, singing me to sleep…

My life was so short, only 28 years.

For a whole 25 years, I had been tangled up with him.

Letting him go was like tearing off a piece of my own flesh.

I just couldn’t.

So, I decided to pass the problem on to him.

At this moment, 28-year-old Jake finally woke up. He tidied himself up, came into the living room, and kissed me on the forehead.

He completely ignored 18-year-old Jake, probably because he literally couldn’t see him.

"Amy, I'm off to work. You're off today, right? Stay home and get some rest. I’ll order us that Cantonese place you like for lun...