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After this meeting, I got sick again, this time with bronchitis, and my cough hurt my lungsI still insist on going to work and take medicine at home on weekends to rest.

Y came to take care of me, very careful, stewed pear juice for me to drink, and packed and brought the old fire soup for lung fever.

"Why don't you even have an apron?"

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm afraid that the vegetable oil outside is not clean, I'll make some later, and you can bring food to work tomorrow."

"You can also cook?"

Y smiled embarrassedly: "The home cooking is okay." ”

In the past, when D came to eat, I bought vegetables and cooked, and he even struggled to make a start. I would never say these things to L.

I looked at his back as he was busy in the kitchen, and suddenly I remembered my mother.

Three stir-fried dishes, stir-fried shredded pork with bitter gourd, stir-fried lily with sausage and kale, and scrambled eggs with red snow. I was pleasantly surprised, he also knows how to fry lilies. "Now there are all kinds of recipes on the Internet," Y said a little shyly, "and anyone who reads it can become a chef." "I thought to myself: I have to take the initiative to become a chef after watching it, at least people like D and L, I never expected them to not fry the fish.

"How's it taste?" Y carefully clipped a chopstick to me.

"Not bad!" I appreciate it from the bottom of my heart.

"Let's have some soup." The spoon was taken for me, too.

I looked at him earnestly serving the patient, and I felt warm and funny&mdah;"It's a big fuss." I laughed inwardly.

"Hey, you're good at taking care of people." I complimented.

Y smiled and patted my head and said, "Actually, I'll order something else." ”

"Oh?"

Y smiled but didn't answer, ready to clean up the dishes and chopsticks.

"I'll do it!" I scrambled to my feet.

"You sit there." Y is not polite to me at all.

He sat for a while after the meal, and I peeled an apple for him, and he took a bite and said, "It's so sour." I looked at his pursed lips and squinted expression, and I thought it was very funny&mdah;y's appearance was very festive, his eyes were not big but very bright, like a kind little brother next door.

Y doesn't have L's sharp eyes, the corners of his lips with a wicked smile, his inscrutable heart, and the thoughts that make you crazy all the time, he is safe. His goodness is written in the quietest hall in his heart. After experiencing the thrill and excitement of being taken to the top of the roller coaster by L and sliding down in an instant, I was finally able to relax my body with peace of mind in the peach blossom paradise of Y, and I could rest and recover quietly when I closed my eyes. The adventure was pleasantly surprised, but also exhausting. I can't seem to be an explorer for the rest of my life.

Y looked down and studied where the apple came from. I looked at him intently, thinking it was cute, so I stretched out my arms and took the initiative to hug him. Y was a little stunned, he was quiet for a long time and said, "I knew I wouldn't eat apples." There is nowhere to put your hands. Then I noticed that he was hanging in the air with a green apple in one hand and propped up on the sofa with the other.

Both men laughed.

My relationship with Y was cautious in terms of physical contact. That's not what I've always done in the past. I attribute it to the feeling of alienation from each other in the early days of a "blind date" relationship&mdah; of course, there are other factors, but I don't want to mention them.

After sending Y away, I hummed a song and packed a love lunch, and my mood was as peaceful as the midnight sea level.

As a result, I still dreamed of L that night.

I woke up in the middle of the night, feeling thirsty, and it was hard to fall asleep.

I dreamed of a time when I first joined the company that I had never seen many years ago. He, a female colleague, and S were sitting with their backs to me, and I heard the voice and thought that the person in the middle was L, and then I saw the side and confirmed that it was him. The female colleague joked with L flirtatiously, poked L with her finger, and sat on the other side thinking about something else.

The setting is that l has never seen me. Then I was anxious to get his attention.

So I shook hands with other colleagues very loudly behind their backs and said hello. I didn't dare to look at L, and I didn't know if he noticed that I didn't. Then I came up with an even more brilliant trick, and I ran up and kicked S from behind (even if I could show that we knew each other well, but it was too hard)...... Then I ran away without looking back, and although I still didn't dare to look at L, I was sure that he would have noticed me in surprise this time......

I ran all the way to the toilet mirror to check my image, only to find myself wearing a school uniform.

The theme of this dream I can summarize in one sentence is: Jun was born and I was not born, and I was born and Jun was married.

I hadn't slept well all night, and I was conflicted about dreaming like this: irritable, childish, sweet and bitter.

During that time, my mental condition was very poor, but fortunately there were no major mistakes at work.

During the time when L and L were out of contact again, I was a little lost, and Y seemed to see that I was upset, but he didn't ask anything. He often accompanies me, and without saying anything, he accompanies me and does some trivial things together.

didn't move the world, as if the soup chicken was put on a cotton coat.

I felt the power of the warmth that Y gave. Commonly known as positive energy.

That's what l can't give, the power to be independent of man. It's something I've seen before, the broad support behind the excellent strong woman, the unrepentant motivation to work late at night, the life journey of growing up together hand in hand, and my mother's support group headed by my father. Living with Y is clear about the future, and although it lacks the mystery of passion and romanticism, it is firm and warm, and I am convinced that I can become a better woman&mdah;This woman lives for herself, not to please others. In front of L, I was always cowardly and helpless, always frightened, like a lost little girl who was led by him, and lost herself.

One rainy night, he drove me home, and before I parted with him, I suddenly kissed him. For the first time I was willing to be intimate with him, and it seemed that I had waited a long time for this day, and I was much more patient than he pursued me.

The kiss was firm and lingering, and Y quickly hugged me tightly with excitement, and we kissed for about three to five minutes.

I have no lust. But I really felt love. I'm glad I've made this progress.

I knew that he would not give up if he hadn't broken off with L, and that this sensitive, strong, and indecisive man would still come out of nowhere to harass me and disrupt my peaceful life. I don't want Y to know about him. So I secretly prepared a plan for the next negotiation with him, trying to be precise and make him completely withdraw from my life with one hit.

I know very well that the anxious son cannot bear my indifference and disobedience, and that the more he thinks about it, the more annoyed he becomes, and then he will find an opportunity to vent his anger on me; Of course, since I didn't make it clear last time, he might have other tentative ideas.

Sure enough, the day soon came.