Half a Life of Misplaced Love

After my divorce, I married the woman I had cheated with. She was gentle and considerate, the kind of woman who always knew how to make me feel valued. Her only drawback was that she came with a son. But that was all right. I had promised to love her, and I would love her child too. As for my ex-wife, apart from the three thousand yuan I sent in child support every month, we had nothing more to do with each other. Until the day I saw a hanging chair at a friend’s house—a chair that had once belonged to me.