The Bride Test (27 page)

He tried calling her again, but it went straight to voice mail.

The worst feeling crept over his skin. The air was cool, but he couldn’t stop sweating. He yanked his bow tie loose, clawed at his hair, and tore his coat off. He almost chucked it into the surf, but he remembered the velvet box inside his coat pocket. That belonged to Esme. Well, it would once he had the opportunity to give it to her.

How could she just leave like this?

Quan jogged toward him from the opposite end of the beach. “I couldn’t find her down there. Did you see her anywhere?”

What a frustrating question. If he’d seen her, he wouldn’t be standing here alone. “No.”

Quan scrubbed at his buzzed head. “What the fuck happened between you two? Why’d she run?”

Khai kicked at the sand. “I suggested we get married.”

Even in the darkness, Khai could see his brother’s eyes widen. “Wow, okay. I’m surprised she wasn’t happy about that. I thought she was really into you.”

Khai’s grip on his bunched-up tux coat tightened so much the fabric squeaked. “She is. Well, she
was
. She told me she’s in love with me tonight.” He still hardly believed it.

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.

B
right 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.”