by Helen Hoang
Quan gave him a weighted look. “And?”
Khai ignored the question and started walking toward the street. Maybe she was sitting on a bench over there, waiting for him. Maybe she’d gotten over her momentary anger, thought things over, and wanted to change her answer.
“And what, Khai?” Quan insisted, falling in step beside him.
He tucked his jacket under his arm and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I told her the truth.”
“Which is . . . ?”
He walked faster, leaving the sand for the pavement, and stared at the late evening Santa Cruz street. There was a bench next to a lonely streetlight, but it was empty. He peered at the parking lot where his car was. No signs of life.
She was nowhere to be seen.
Quan grabbed his arm with a firm hold. “Khai, what did you tell her? Why was she crying?”
He tried to swallow. It didn’t work the first try, or the second, but he remembered how on the third attempt. “I told her I don’t love her back.”
“That’s bullshit,” Quan exploded. “What the fuck?”
“I said it because it’s true,” he said.
“You’re crazy in love with her. Just look at you,” Quan said, waving his hands at Khai like it was obvious.
“I. Am. Not,” Khai bit out.
“The fuck you’re not. You’re an all-or-nothing guy, so we knew the first girl to catch your attention would be the one. Esme is your ‘one,’ Khai.”
“I don’t have a ‘one.’ I don’t do relationships.” He walked down the sidewalk a block, looking all around. Where was she?
Shit, was she safe? This didn’t look like a shady area, but that wasn’t any kind of guarantee. Adrenaline spiked, and his heart crashed against his ribs as he dug his phone out and tried her number again.
Straight to voice mail again.
Dammit.
“Why won’t she pick up?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone.
Quan answered anyway. “She doesn’t want to talk to you. You don’t tell a girl you don’t love her and then ask her to marry you. I don’t know what you were thinking.”
Khai crammed his phone back in his pocket impatiently. “She needs a green card. I can give her one. It’s that simple. I even told her I’d be willing to give her a divorce as soon as everything was official. She should have been happy. She shouldn’t have said no and run.”
Instead of speaking right away, Quan exhaled and rubbed a hand over his face as he shook his head. “Shiiiiit.”
At least they were in agreement about something. This situation was exactly shit.
“Why are you willing to do all that for her if you’re not into relationships?” Quan asked with narrowed eyes.
Khai looked away from his brother and shrugged. “I’m used to her, and it’s okay living together. Why not?”
Quan threw his hands up in the air. “Great reasons for marriage. I’m gonna go back to the wedding. If you hear from her, let me know.”
As Quan stomped back to the wedding tent, Khai returned to his car and got inside. Her high heels lay on the passenger side at uneven angles, and he searched the interior of the car in excitement. Until he remembered she’d left them here before going in.
He drove around aimlessly, searching the streets, sidewalks, benches, and shop fronts for a woman in a loose black dress and no shoes. He didn’t see her anywhere.
When he stopped in front of the same traffic light for the fourth time, he acknowledged it was time to give up. She had her phone and purse and knew how to take care of herself. If she didn’t want to be found, there was no point in looking. Even so, he’d stay close just in case.
He pulled his car into a random parking spot by the beach, cranked the brake, and turned off the engine. Then he sat and waited, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he stared up at the darkened sky.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Bright light pooled on top of Esme’s eyelids, and she winced and rubbed at her face, scattering little bottles from the minibar onto the floor. The TV was still on, and the hotel room’s ceiling wouldn’t stop spinning.
Or maybe she was the one spinning.
She pushed herself up, and bile surged up her throat as the room tilted. Oh no. She panic-ran to the bathroom, and her knees hit the cold tile just as she threw up in the toilet.
Over and over, until it felt like her eyes were exploding. When it finally stopped, she rinsed out her mouth and gazed blearily at her face in the mirror. She’d vomited so hard she’d left little red dots on her upper cheeks and around her eyes. On top of that, her hair was a tangled mess, she still wore the black dress from yesterday, and she smelled horrible. If her mom and grandma could see her now, they’d be so disappointed.
They’d tell her to crawl back to Khải’s where it was safe, thank him for offering to marry her, and get the marriage certificate signed before he changed his mind. Jade needed him.
But a one-sided love would destroy Esme, not to mention set a horrid example for her daughter to follow. Esme was not going back.
She found her phone, located Phil Schumacher’s phone number, and called him again. It rang several times before it disconnected without going to voice mail. So she called again. Halfway through the first ring, a recording played. “The person you are trying to reach is unavailable.”
What did that mean?
She tried again. And again, halfway through the first ring, the message came on, “The person you are trying to reach is unavailable.”
He must have blocked her number. He might be her dad, and he’d blocked her. It made her stomach drop and her pride hurt, but she told herself that was fine.
She didn’t need him.
She didn’t need anyone.
Maybe she was still drunk off minibar drinks, and maybe she was being overly emotional, but as she stood in that cheap motel room alone, truly alone, she swore she was going to do things by herself from here on out. She wasn’t good enough for Khải or this mysterious Phil Schumacher, but she was good enough for herself.
She didn’t need a man for anything. She only needed her own two hands. As she washed her hair and scrubbed the sand from the wedding off her feet in the plastic shower, a fire raged in her heart. She didn’t know how, but she was going to prove her worth. She’d show everyone.
She spent the day setting up a new independent life. She took a bus to Milpitas and searched the area by Cô Nga’s restaurant for apartments, found a place that offered monthlong leases and signed the contract, and went shopping for apartment supplies and new clothes. She’d rather walk around naked than ask Khải for her things. He could have them.
That night as she slept in a sleeping bag on the floor of her empty studio apartment, she dreamed Jade’s father took her away, and she cried herself awake and huddled against the wall, listening to the creaking of the building and the cars passing by outside. As it always did, her fear gradually changed into guilt. If she’d given Jade to her father and his wife, right now Jade would have a complete family with a mom and a dad, not to mention an expensive house and servants. Because she hadn’t given Jade up, her girl was stuck in a one-room shack while her mom carried on a separate life across the ocean. Would a better mother have given her baby away? Was it selfish to keep Jade? Was love enough?
Fierceness overtook her. Love would have to be enough. It was truly all she had.
When the sky lightened, she gave up on sleep and researched work visas on her phone. There had to be opportunities for someone like her in a place like this. She was very good at withstanding difficulty. But she read website after website, and they all said the same thing: She needed to have a college degree, twelve years of specialized work experience, or some impressive mixture of the two. She had work experience, but something told her toilet cleaning wasn’t the kind of specialization they were talking about.
She was still struggling to accept this information when she walked into Cô Nga’s restaurant later that morning.
“Oh, Precious Girl has arrived.” Cô Nga ran to her and hugged her tight. “You had me so worried. Why did you leave without telling anyone anything, ha? Everyone was worried to death about you.”
Slightly in shock, Esme hugged Cô Nga back. “I’m sorry.” She hadn’t thought anyone would care about her after she turned down Khải’s proposal. She stepped away, forced a smile, and held her arms out. “You can see I’m fine.”
“Khải looked everywhere for you. He said he called you many times. Why didn’t you answer?” Cô Nga asked.
She focused on putting her purse in the regular spot by the cash register and keeping her breathing even. That was the only way to keep herself from falling apart. “I didn’t have anything to say to him.”
Cô Nga dismissed Esme’s words with a wave of her hand. “How are you two going to work things out if you don’t talk things over? Tell him what’s wrong, and he’ll fix it. It’s only easy.”
Esme’s heart thudded, but thankfully, she’d cried enough these past couple of days that her eyes stayed dry now. “There’s nothing to fix. We don’t fit, Cô.”
Her certainty must have been written all over her, because Cô Nga took one look at her, and her face went slack. “Are you sure?”
Esme nodded.
“Where have you been? Is it safe? Do you need money?” Cô Nga asked, patting Esme’s cheek and squeezing her arms like she needed to reassure herself Esme was really there.
“I have everything I need, thank you. I’m staying at that place down the street, the one that rents rooms monthly. It’s nice,” Esme said with a bright smile. Compared to her house back home, it was luxurious. It wasn’t hard to be nicer than her house, though.
“You’re here.”
She whipped around and found Khải standing in the doorway to the restaurant. He wore his regular secret agent uniform of black suit and shirt, but he looked different than usual. He looked tired. But still so beautiful he sent a sharp pang to her chest.
Desperate for a distraction, she grabbed the tray of sugar packets from the shelf and began adding the appropriate number of packets to the little boxes in the booths. “Hi, Khải.”
“You didn’t answer any of my calls,” he said as he strode inside.
“Sorry.” She could do this. She was going to maintain her composure. Three white packets of regular sugar. Two brown packets of Sugar in the Raw. Three yellow packets of—
He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. “I was worried about you.”
For the longest time, he simply hugged her, and she let him. There were reasons why she shouldn’t, but at the moment, she couldn’t remember them. He felt so good, smelled so good, and her lonely self drank him in. Something unfamiliar prickled against her cheek, and she brushed her fingers over his face and leaned away to get a better view. What was this?
“You didn’t shave—”
He kissed her, and sharp sensation arrowed straight to her heart. As soon as she softened against him, he deepened the kiss, taking her mouth with aching presses of his lips that made her dizzy. It was impossible not to respond when he kissed her like this, like he’d been worried sick about her, like he was passionately in love with her.
His mom coughed noisily. Esme broke the kiss and tried to step back, but Khải’s arms tightened around her.
“Where have you been?” he asked.
“I got an apartment close by.”
He went motionless. “You’re . . . moving out?”
She hesitated for a second before nodding.
“I don’t see why you can’t stay with me. Like before. We don’t have to—” He released a frustrated breath, looked out the front window, and grimaced. “This is not the best neighborhood.”
His disdain for the area made her muscles stiffen. “It’s fine.” The people weren’t as rich here, but that didn’t mean they were bad. They were a lot like her, to be honest. She pushed against his chest, and he reluctantly let her go.
“It’s really not fine. The crime stats in my neighborhood are lower. You should come back.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
He raked a hand through his hair and took a half step toward her. “You were fine at my place until recently. Why can’t—”
“Do you love me?” she asked softly, giving him a chance to change everything.
He clenched his jaw tight and clasped her hands in his. “I can keep you safe, and I can carry you when you’re hurt, and I can . . .” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “I can kiss you like it’s the first time every time. I can—I can . . .” His expression went determined. “I can work with you on the lawn. I can even get it professionally done. I can fix up the house for you. If you want. Whatever kind of wedding you want, I can—”
“Khải,” she said firmly. “Do you love me?”
His eyes fell shut, and the fight leaked out of him. “No, I don’t.”
She blinked back tears, pulled her hands away from him, and continued packing the sugar boxes. Three pink packets. Three blue packets. She wasn’t going to fall apart. She wasn’t going to fall apart. “You should go. You will be late for work.”
He took a long, uneven breath. “Good-bye, then.”
She forced a smile. “Have a nice day.”
He leaned forward like he had every intention of kissing her, and for a moment, she was going to let him. She could almost feel the softness of his lips on hers, almost taste him. She turned her face to the side at the last second, and after hesitating briefly, he backed away.
“Bye, Mom.” He waved at Cô Nga.
And then he was gone.
Esme’s shoulders slumped, and she watched his silver Porsche speed from the parking lot through blurred eyes. Sadness swelled and dragged, and she was vaguely amazed she managed to stay standing. Look how strong she was. She could handle this. He was just another man.
Cô Nga came and sat down in the booth, looking shell-shocked and defeated. “I don’t understand when he’s like this. He prefers you, I can tell. It’s clear as daytime. Why did he say that? I don’t know.”
Saying nothing, Esme focused on the sugar packets. She stuffed one last packet into the black box, placed it against the wall next to the sriracha, hoisin, and chili sauce, and moved to the next booth. As she picked up the white sugar packets, however, wet droplets splashed onto the paper. She wiped it on her shirt and got out a new packet, but she got that one wet, too.
“Here, here, here.” Cô Nga pulled her into a hug. “Here, here, Precious Girl.”
Her control snapped, and hard sobs wracked her. She wasn’t that strong, after all. “I’m sorry,” Esme said. “I’m not your ‘precious girl’ anymore. I tried. But then I fell in love with him, and I can’t be with him when it’s like this. I’ll break.”
Everyone deserved to love and be loved back. Everyone. Even her.
Cô Nga rubbed Esme’s back like she was shredding carrots. “Here, here, you’ll always be my Precious Girl. Always.”
Esme hugged her tighter before she swiped a sleeve over her face. “I would have liked to have you as my mother-in-law.”
Cô Nga patted her cheek, watching her with sad, wise eyes. Then she got her phone out of her apron and held it as far away as possible as she squinted at the screen, selected a phone number to call, and put it on speaker.
After a series of rings, Quân picked up, asking in a distracted tone, “Hi, Mom, how are you?”
“You need to talk to your brother,” she said.
“Does this have anything to do with Esme—Mỹ? Did you ever find her?”
Cô Nga nodded quickly even though Quân couldn’t see. “Yeah, yeah, she’s here.”
“Oh good, that’s great. I’ll—
” Background voices interrupted him, and there were muffled sounds like he’d covered the phone to speak to someone on his end. “Yeah, I have to go. I’ll call him tonight.”
“Not tonight. Now,” Cô Nga insisted. “And if he doesn’t answer, you need to go see him.”
“I can’t. I’m in New York pitching for the next stage of fund—”
Cô Nga spoke over her son. “Come home. This is important. He’s your only brother and needs your help.”
Quân released a slow breath. “Sometimes, he doesn’t want my help.”
“You have to try. He’s your responsibility. Be better than that stinky father of yours.”
There was a long silence on the phone before Quân said, “I’ll take care of it. I really have to go. Bye, Mom.”
The line went dead, and Cô Nga muttered to herself and stuck her phone back in her apron.
Esme grabbed a handful of sugar packets but hesitated before putting them in the box. “I don’t know what Anh Quân can do, Cô Nga. He sounds busy.” This drama between Esme and Khải didn’t seem like it should take priority.
Cô Nga waved Esme’s comment away. “You have to be tough with Quân like this. I know, I’m his mom. But he gets things done when I push him. You’ll see.”
“He seems to do well all by himself. He’s a CEO, isn’t he? That’s an accomplishment.” Esme couldn’t imagine doing anything like that.
“It sounds good, but it’s a small company. Nothing like Khải,” Cô Nga said in a dismissive manner.
Again, Esme got the impression they weren’t talking about the same Khải. Why did people make it sound like he was mega-successful when he wasn’t? She shook her head and got to work. It didn’t matter.
She had to mind her own business. There were three weeks left before she had to leave, and the clock was ticking.
In this country of empowered people, justice, and fairness, opportunities were there for everyone. Marriage and birth couldn’t be the only ways to belong here. She didn’t believe that.
There had to be something she could do to earn her place here, some way to prove herself. She had to keep looking.