Chapter 1
每一步经历都算数，每一次疼痛都是成长礼。”
“Nothing is wasted—every experience counts, and every ache becomes growth. ”
2026年3月15日，
凌晨6点
巴斯海峡的轮渡上。
一辆装满行李的车。
一个三十多岁的中国女人。手握着一杯冷透的咖啡。望向窗外。
她不知道未来会发生什么。
但她知道自己必须离开。
March 15, 2026.
6:00 a.m.
On a ferry crossing the Bass Strait.
A car loaded with everything she owned.
A Chinese woman in her thirties sat quietly by the window, an iced coffee growing warm in her hand as she stared out at the dark water.
She had no idea what awaited her on the other side.
But she knew one thing with absolute certainty:
She had to leave.
第一章 塔斯马尼亚精神号
雨，从夜里下到清早，我的头脑异常冷静。
我轻轻从Geo的臂弯里抽出身体，收起地上凌乱的衣服，迅速穿上，手机，钥匙。发动汽车。驶向德文港码头。
一个月前，孩子们已经去了布里斯班，跟着他们的爸爸生活。而我搬进Geo的家里。
偏偏那段时间，他们轮流生病。
前夫病的起不来床，儿子又开始发烧腹泻。女儿成了那个照顾他们的小护士！
每天的视频电话里都是孩子的哭声和疲惫的大人。
我远在两千多公里之外，什么也做不了。
那种无力感像火一样烧着我。
我多想马上去见孩子们！
Chapter One: Spirit of Tasmania
Rain had fallen through the night and into the early morning.
My mind was unusually calm.
Carefully, I slipped out of Geo’s arms, gathered my clothes from the floor, dressed quickly, phone, keys. Then started the car.
I headed for the Devonport ferry terminal.
A month earlier, the children had already moved to Brisbane to live with their father.
I had moved into Geo’s house.
Then, as if fate had a sense of timing, they all started taking turns getting sick.
My ex-husband was so ill he could barely get out of bed. My son came down with a fever and diarrhoea.
My daughter became the little nurse, looking after them both.
Every video call was filled with the sound of crying children and exhausted adults.
More than two thousand kilometres away, there was nothing I could do.
The helplessness burned inside me like fire.
More than anything, I wanted to see my children.
而另一边，我和Geo的关系也走到了尽头。
曾经那个让我心动的人，如今让我越来越疲惫。
争吵。
质问。
指责。
深夜，让我搬走。
第一次听见的时候，我震惊。
第二次，我难过。
第三次，我忽然平静了。
因为我知道，这段关系已经走到了终点。
我买下船票的时候，并没有太多迟疑。
我的理智告诉我，和他没有未来了。
孩子们的爸爸——我的前夫，知道我的状况后也主动向我伸出了援手。
我们早已不再是恋人，也不再拥有共同的未来。
可二十多年的相识，从童年时代一路走来的情分，却没有因为分手而消失。
他甚至有些心疼和惋惜。
他说：“你可以先过来住，我这里有房间。孩子们也想你。。后面的事情慢慢再想。”
那一刻我忽然意识到，有些人做不成夫妻，却依然可以成为家人。
爱情结束了。情义还在。
Meanwhile, my relationship with Geo was coming to an end.
The man who had once made my heart race was now leaving me more and more exhausted.
Arguments.
Interrogations.
Criticism.
Late at night, he would tell me to move out.
The first time I heard it, I was shocked.
The second time, I was hurt.
The third time, I felt strangely calm.
Because by then, I already knew.
Our relationship had reached its end.
When I bought the ferry ticket, I didn’t hesitate for long.
Reason told me there was no future for us.
The father of my children—my ex-husband—reached out when he learned what I was going through.
We were no longer lovers.
We no longer shared a future.
But twenty years of history, a bond that stretched all the way back to childhood, had not disappeared simply because our marriage had ended.
In fact, he seemed genuinely saddened by what had happened to me.
Perhaps even a little heartbroken on my behalf.
He said,
“You can come stay here for a while. Kids missed you. There’s a room for you. You can figure out the rest later.”
In that moment, I realized something.
Some people may not be meant to remain husband and wife.
Yet they can still become family.
Love had ended.
But devotion, trust and nearly thirty years of shared history were still there
登船以后，我找了个靠窗的位置坐下。给自己点了一杯咖啡。透过玻璃，看着港口越来越远。
就在这时，手机开始不停弹出信息。
是Geo。
“宝贝，别离开我。”
“我在岸边。”
“你能到甲板上来吗？”
“我想最后看看你。”
“求你了。”
“我现在就去买机票。”
“今晚飞墨尔本见你好不好？”
“我们再谈一次。”
……
我还是走到了甲板上，面对一个那么真诚得爱过我的男人，我怎么忍心！
“回去吧！宝贝！我们回不去了！”我只回复了几个字。
船最终离港了。
窗外的海面越来越宽。
而我的人生，也正在一点一点驶向另一个方向。
我知道他爱我。
甚至爱得很深。
可有些事情，并不是爱就能够解决。
有些路，一旦决定出发，就不能回头。
After boarding, I found a seat by the window and ordered myself a coffee.
Through the glass, I watched the harbour slowly recede into the distance.
Then my phone began lighting up with messages.
One after another.
They were from Geo.
“Baby, don’t leave me.”
“I’m at the terminal.”
“Can you come up to the deck?”
“I want to see you one last time.”
“Please.”
“I’ll book a flight right now.”
“What if I fly to Melbourne tonight and meet you there?”
“Let’s talk one more time.”
…
In the end, I walked out onto the deck.
How could I refuse a man who had loved me so sincerely?
The wind was cold.
The distance between us was growing with every passing minute.
I looked at him one last time.
Then I sent a reply.
“Go home, baby.”
“We can’t go back anymore.”
Just a few words.
The ferry finally pulled away from the harbour.
The water stretched wider and wider beyond the window.
And my life, too, was slowly setting course toward a different horizon.
I knew he loved me.
Perhaps he loved me deeply.
But there are some things that love alone cannot fix.
And there are some journeys that, once begun, cannot be turned back from.
海风很大，带着雨。
吹得人几乎睁不开眼。
我望向逐渐远去的岸边。
那里的人群已经变成模糊的小点。
我不知道他是不是还站在那里。
也不知道他是否真的准备买机票追来。
我只知道，我们都已经尽力了。
而尽力，并不总能换来一个圆满的结局。
渡轮缓缓驶向海峡中央。
塔斯马尼亚的海岸线一点一点后退。
那里有我生活过的三年。
有工作，有把我当做家人的客户。
有朋友。
有成长。
有失望。
有爱。
有眼泪。
也有一个曾经真诚得爱过我，拼命挽留过我的男人。
我看着逐渐消失的陆地，突然意识到，我已经没有退路了。
前方两千多公里。
新的城市。
新的生活。
两个正在等我的孩子。
以及一个必须重新开始的人生。
那一年，我三十八岁。
塔斯马尼亚精神号，带着我和我的车，全部家当，从澳大利亚最南端的岛屿出发。驶向未知。
我不知道未来会发生什么。
但我知道，我必须离开。
The wind off the ocean was fierce, carrying rain with it.
It stung my face and made it difficult to keep my eyes open.
I looked back toward the shoreline.
The people gathered there had already become tiny, blurred figures in the distance.
I didn’t know whether he was still standing there.
I didn’t know whether he truly intended to buy a plane ticket and follow me.
All I knew was that we had both done everything we could.
And sometimes, even your very best is not enough to create a happy ending.
The ferry moved steadily toward the middle of the strait.
Tasmania’s coastline slowly retreated behind me.
Three years of my life were there.
My work. The clients who had become family.
My friends.
My growth.
My disappointments.
My love.
My tears.
And a man who had once loved me sincerely and fought desperately to keep me.
As I watched the land gradually disappear into the horizon, a sudden realization washed over me.
There was no turning back.
More than two thousand kilometres lay ahead.
A new city.
A new life.
Two children waiting for me.
And a life that would have to be built all over again.
That year, I was thirty-eight years old.
The Spirit of Tasmania pulled away from Devonport, carrying me, my car, and everything I owned toward an uncertain future.
Heading toward the unknown.
I had no idea what the future would bring.
But I knew one thing with absolute certainty:
I had to leave.
