"We are innocent. Why do you always misinterpret us? People with a dirty mind see everything as dirty!"
Not a word about how I survived that dark night in the burning car.
I merely mentioned, "Chandler, I am injured too..."
"Are you crazy, imitating how others speak? Can't you stop being so boring?"
He impatiently hung up.
Six days later, with a steel plate in my thigh, I was discharged.
Chandler finally decided to unblock me.
"Where are you? Shall we have dinner together tonight?"
I knew the cold war was ending.
In our relationship, he always acted on his own whims - quarreling, cold shouldering, or reconciling when he pleased.
I was the humble one, never refusing, never saying "no."
But after this brush with death, I felt extremely tired and bored.
Usually when he initiated reconciliation, I was relieved and joyful.
But this time, I remained calm and simply replied,
"In hospital."
He finally called me, asked for the location, and insisted on picking me up.
It was a half-hour drive.
I was limping on one leg, running up and down to get discharged. Even the cleaning lady couldn't bear to watch and came to help me.