No wonder Shirley was so furious, so mad that she had slapped Bonnie.
Lawrence thought to himself, if he and Bonnie ever had a daughter who gave up her pride and dignity for a man, he would probably feel the same anger, frustrated that she wouldn’t stand up for herself.
He lit another cigarette and only put it out when it burned his fingertips.
He sat and watched the couple on the bench. The guy looked familiar, enough that when he came running over, Lawrence felt sure he’d seen him somewhere before, but just couldn’t remember where.
Bonnie was never short on admirers. No one understood that better than Lawrence. Sometimes she’d just be in an elective class and some guy would be asking for her WeChat. Seniors, freshmen, guys from campus, guys from other schools... Lawrence had been jealous so many times he’d lost count.
But he’d never actually worried about them.
Bonnie never gave those guys the time of day. She was always cool with everyone, barely even smiled at them.
She only ever smiled at him, tipping her head with that sly little grin, teasing him about getting jealous again, saying he was ridiculous.
But now, in this empty little park corner, Lawrence couldn't shake off this heavy feeling of unease. The weather wasn’t even cold and the midday sun was shining, but he still felt a chill. He felt so alone.
He watched the man run his fingers through Bonnie’s hair, watched him lean in, focused on her as he handed her a tissue and whispered something that made Bonnie squint her eyes in laughter.
Lawrence saw Bonnie heft a bag onto her lap and take things out one by one, showing them to the guy, the two of them leaning their heads together, talking and laughing so easily.
The jealousy inside Lawrence was almost painful, hot and raw, bubbling up and burning him with feelings he hated to admit—envy, possessiveness, all mixed together.
He realized he just couldn’t let Bonnie go. He couldn’t hand her over to someone else.
Even if... even if he was the one who had messed up.
He hadn’t done it on purpose.
...


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