The Coat He Brought Back

My rented room was narrow, damp, and smelled faintly of old pipes.

After returning, I drank several cups of cold water before the burning in my stomach eased.

I was about to crawl into bed and mourn my dignity when someone knocked.

“Who is it?” I asked, opening the emergency call screen.

“Lina. It’s me.”

Victor’s voice.

I wiped my tears with the back of my hand and opened the door.

“You ran too fast,” he said. “You forgot your coat.”

My coat hung over his arm.

He stopped at the threshold, his suit and bearing completely out of place in the old stairwell.

At that moment, I thought again:

Between us lay a canyon.

He had entered business young and become famous almost immediately.

In a few years, he became the richest man in the city.

I, on the other hand, had been born into poverty and shame.

A gambling father.

A greedy mother.

Two spoiled younger brothers.

From childhood, I was taught to give way.

To work.

To pay.

During university, I studied while working part-time. Every month, I sent home seven thousand.

I once tried to escape.

But my mother destroyed that courage.

In sophomore year, I sent money three days late.

She took my two brothers and drank pesticide on video, sending the footage to my phone.

Her words still lived inside my bones.

Lina Lin, if you don’t earn money for this family, you are killing us. Your father, your brothers, and I will all die because of you.

Victor said my name.

“Lina.”

I returned to myself and took the coat.

“Thank you, Boss.”

He did not leave.

“If you feel unwell tomorrow, take a day off.”

A boss this considerate was rare.

No wonder everyone in the company respected him.

My head hurt.

The alcohol had not fully faded.

I had so few chances to be alone with him. My lips moved, wanting to say something.

But fear won.

Victor stood beneath the dim corridor light.

I could not see his expression clearly, but every word he spoke reached me.

“Lina, I thought carefully—”

“Boss, I’m going to sleep.”

My voice shook.

Thankfully, Victor did not continue.

I watched his back disappear down the stairs.

Only then did my body relax.

At midnight, my mother called.

She cursed me for being useless and letting such a rich man go.

Then her tone softened.

“Your brothers have spent their money. Transfer a few thousand tomorrow.”

“I don’t have money,” I said honestly. “I need what’s left for rent.”

“Rent?” Her voice became sharp. “Can rent be more important than your brothers? Big cities have shelters everywhere. You won’t freeze sleeping under a bridge.”

Something in me was already broken from tonight.

I asked,

“Mom, in your eyes, am I just a machine for making money?”

“What else?” she said. “Your father and I raised you for more than ten years. It’s time for you to repay us.”

I was too tired to argue.

She threatened again.

“If you don’t transfer the money in thirty minutes, we’ll marry you to Old Zhang.”

Then she told me something that turned my blood cold.

“I already discussed it with him. If you aren’t untouched, we’ll accept half the bride price.”

I knew my mother.

Whether I sent money or not, she would sell me.

My life had barely begun.

Twenty-four should have been an age of freedom.

But my flower had rotted from the root.

I transferred the rent money to my brothers.

Their gambling debts had drawn threats.

If I did not pay, someone would break their legs.

Without rent, my landlord kicked me out.

The city had no place for me.

For several nights, I slept in the company.

The office still carried traces of Victor.

Somehow, that made me feel safe.

My mother and Old Zhang set the wedding date for next month.

I avoided everything.

Until someone reported that I was living at the office.

Victor’s secretary, Rachel Xu, came to me personally.

“Mr. Fu wants to see you.”

I would rather disappear.

I was already humiliated enough.

How could I let Victor see me like this?

Rachel was furious when I refused.

No one in the company dared defy her.

That afternoon, HR issued my termination notice.

I called my only friend.

After hearing everything, she said she could not help.

I understood.

Her husband had a violent temper, yet she could not leave him. She had one daughter and was pregnant again.

“Lina,” she whispered, “maybe you should ask Victor Fu.”

I gripped the phone.

“I know you have pride,” she said carefully. “But you’ve reached the end. Didn’t you stay in this city because of him? Maybe this is a chance.”

I stared at the street.

A black Maybach stopped beside me, but I did not notice.

After a long silence, I said,

“This is the last dignity I have.”

My friend said nothing.

Her husband shouted in the background for her to cook.

Then a voice called my name.

“Lina.”

I thought I was hallucinating beneath the noon sun.

Then it came again.

“Lina.”

I looked up.

The driver opened the rear door.

Victor Fu stepped out in a black suit that probably cost more than my yearly salary.

He lowered his gaze to me.

“Why do you look like you lost your soul?”

I could not answer.

My mother kept calling, demanding I return to prepare for marriage.

My heart had died.

So perhaps I no longer cared.

She had been wrong about one thing.

Sleeping under a bridge was not warm.

It was hard.

And cold.