We reached the apartment without speaking a single word.
The umbrella stayed open until the last possible second. Wen Xiao shook the water off it in the entryway while I toed off my soaked shoes. My clothes clung to my skin. The mark on my neck pulsed under the damp collar of my shirt. I walked straight past her toward the hallway, intending to lock myself in the bathroom and stay there until morning.
“Linling.”
Her voice stopped me.
I turned around slowly. She stood near the kitchen counter, still holding the wet umbrella, rain still darkening the shoulders of her jacket. Her expression was calm in the way that always made my temper rise faster.
“What?” I asked.
She set the umbrella down. “Can we talk?”
“About what?”
“This morning.”
I laughed once, short and sharp. “There is nothing to talk about.”
“You walked out without saying a word. You ignored me on campus. You barely looked at me under the umbrella. Something is wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong.”
“You are angry.”
“I am tired.”
“That is not the same thing.”
I dropped my bag on the floor hard enough to make a dull sound. Water dripped from my sleeves onto the wood. The apartment felt too small. Her scent still lingered in the air from last night and it made the back of my throat tight.
“Why does it matter to you?” I asked.
Wen Xiao’s brows drew together. “Because we live together. Because last night happened. Because you left like I had done something unforgivable by making breakfast.”
“You acted like nothing happened.”
“Exactly.”
She stared at me. “I do not understand what you wanted me to say.”
“Of course you do not.”
“Then explain it.”
I crossed my arms. The movement pulled at the sore muscles in my shoulders and reminded me again of how she had held me up against the shower wall. The memory made my face heat. I hated that it still affected me.
“You were normal,” I said. “Completely normal. Like it was just another night. Like it did not mean anything.”
Wen Xiao’s voice stayed even. “I was trying to take care of you. You were still recovering. I thought food would help.”
“I did not ask for care.”
“You asked for help last night.”
The words landed between us like a stone. I felt my pulse jump in my throat. She had not raised her voice, but the reminder was enough to make my skin feel too tight again.
“That was different,” I said.
“How?”
“It just was.”
Wen Xiao took a step closer. “You are allowed to be upset. You are allowed to need space. But walking out and then pretending I do not exist all day is not space. It is punishment.”
“Maybe you deserve it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “For what? For doing what you asked me to do?”
“For treating it like it was casual.”
“Then you have a strange way of showing it.”
Silence stretched. Rain still tapped against the windows. My wet clothes felt heavier with every second I stood there. Wen Xiao’s jaw worked once before she spoke again.
“I woke up early because I could not sleep. I made food because I wanted you to eat something warm. I said good morning because I did not know what else was safe to say after the way you looked at me last night. If that was wrong, tell me what the correct version was supposed to be.”
I hated how reasonable she sounded. I hated that part of me wanted to believe her. The other part, the part that still felt the absence of her on the other side of the bed that morning, refused.
“How many people have you had sex with?” I asked.
The question came out flat and ugly. I watched it hit her.
Wen Xiao went completely still. The calm she had been holding cracked for the first time. Her eyes darkened.
“What did you just say?”
“You heard me.” My voice stayed steady even though my hands had started to tremble. “How many people have you slept with before last night? Was I just another one on the list? Is that why it was so easy for you to act normal this morning?”
She moved before I could step back.
The slap cracked across my cheek hard enough to turn my head. Heat bloomed instantly under the skin. The sound echoed in the quiet apartment. I tasted the sharp edge of shock more than pain.
Wen Xiao’s hand stayed raised for a second longer before she lowered it. Her breathing had gone rough. When she spoke, her voice was low and final.
“That is my limit.”
I touched my cheek. The skin stung. I could still feel the shape of her palm.
We stared at each other across the small distance. Something irreversible sat between us now. I could see it in the way her shoulders had locked and in the way my own throat had closed.
I did not say anything else.
I turned around, walked into the bedroom, and shut the door behind me. The click of the latch sounded too loud. I sat down on the edge of the bed in my wet clothes and pressed my fingers to the hot mark on my face.
Outside the door the apartment stayed silent.
I lay down without changing and stared at the ceiling until the sting in my cheek faded into a dull throb. Sleep did not come for a long time.