The Bride Test(68)

“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—”

“Kh?i,” 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 C? 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.

C? 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.” C? 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.

C? 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.”

C? 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, Quan 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—M?? Did you ever find her?”

C? Nga nodded quickly even though Quan 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,” C? 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—”

C? Nga spoke over her son. “Come home. This is important. He’s your only brother and needs your help.”

Quan 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 Quan said, “I’ll take care of it. I really have to go. Bye, Mom.”

The line went dead, and C? 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 Quan can do, C? Nga. He sounds busy.” This drama between Esme and Kh?i didn’t seem like it should take priority.

C? Nga waved Esme’s comment away. “You have to be tough with Quan 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.