Over the weekend, Lin Zhou went shopping with her best friend, Chen Xi. Chen Xi was her college roommate and the only person who knew the entire story of her and Shen Che.
Sitting in a cafe, Chen Xi looked at Lin Zhou's somewhat haggard face and couldn't help but ask, "Zhou Zhou, be honest with me. Are you overthinking things again?"
Lin Zhou stirred her coffee, hesitated for a moment, and then told her about hearing the guitar melody a few nights ago.
Chen Xi's expression turned to one of "I knew it." She reached out and felt Lin Zhou's forehead. "No fever. My dear Miss Lin, are you so lovesick that you're having auditory hallucinations? It was just a similar tune. What does that prove?"
"But the way he played, it was so similar," Lin Zhou argued.
"There are so many guitar players in the world. It's normal for a few to have similar habits," Chen Xi said, mercilessly bursting her bubble. "And let's say, for argument's sake, it really was Shen Che. Have you thought about what that would mean?"
Lin Zhou fell silent.
"It would mean he never went abroad! He lied to you! He'd rather hide upstairs like a 'ghost' than come down and see you! Zhou Zhou, if that's the case, why would you even want a man like that?!" Chen Xi grew more agitated, her voice rising.
People nearby cast curious glances their way. Lin Zhou tugged at her sleeve. "Keep your voice down."
Chen Xi took a deep breath and lowered her voice. "I just feel so bad for you. It's been three years, without a single phone call or a single letter in reply. And you're still waiting here like a fool, deceiving yourself over some phantom guitar tune. Look at you now. You're turning into a statue."
Lin Zhou knew her friend meant well, but the words still stung like needles. "He explained. The research institute is very strict; it's not convenient to contact anyone."
"Not convenient, or doesn't want to?" Chen Xi said sharply. "What century are we in? Even people on expeditions in Antarctica can send an email once in a while. What kind of research institute is he at, the White House?"
Lin Zhou was speechless. In truth, she had had her own doubts and wavered over the years. But whenever that happened, the image of Shen Che's smiling face at the airport would appear in her mind, and his beautiful promises would echo in her ears, giving her the strength to keep waiting.
"Listen to me," Chen Xi said, her tone softening as she took Lin Zhou's hand. "Forget Shen Che. You're only 26. You have your whole life ahead of you. That programmer from my company I told you about last week, he's a really nice guy—honest, reliable, and decent-looking. Why don't you just meet him?"
"I…" Lin Zhou wanted to refuse.
"Just for my sake, please? Just meet him, have a meal, okay?" Chen Xi pleaded. "If you keep going on like this, I'm really worried you're going to wither away. Even if it's not for a relationship, it's good to make a new friend."
Looking at her friend's worried eyes, Lin Zhou couldn't refuse any longer. She nodded in agreement.
But she knew in her heart that it was already full, occupied by a man named Shen Che. There was no room for anyone else. That door had been locked from the inside the day he left three years ago.