CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The minute hand on the clock ticked onto the six. 10:30 A.M. and still no Khải.
Esme hugged her hands over her stomach and stared at her reflection again. The bride in the mirror looked sophisticated and beautiful—a ten- thousand-dollar Vera Wang dress would do that to anyone—and pale as death.
Khải wasn’t going to stop the wedding. She had to marry his brother.
She’d told herself a thousand times he wouldn’t come, and yet, the reality of it still crushed her like a mountain. Tears threatened to spill and ruin her makeup, and she quickly blinked them away. She told herself to be happy.
Any other girl back home would say this was a dream come true. Handsome husband, designer gown, city hall, extravagant floral bouquets, tons of guests, and on top of all that, she and her family would be able to stay. They’d have that new shiny life they’d hardly dared to hope for. She could follow her dreams and be a proper role model for her daughter.
But it was the wrong handsome husband. Quân was great, but he wasn’t Khải. He hadn’t rushed to see her at the doctor’s office or carried her to the car afterward. He hadn’t kissed her like she was everything. He didn’t reserve his best smiles for her only.
Without Khải, this wedding felt like a farce, but she was going to go through with it anyway. She’d told Quân everything, laid her secrets and flaws bare, and he still wanted her to have this opportunity. The government didn’t care about her, the schools didn’t, the scholarship organizations didn’t, but this one person did, and sometimes one person could make a world of
difference. She was going to do everything in her power to make sure he didn’t regret helping her. She was going to make a difference to this world.
She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, feeling determination burn deep within. She wasn’t impressive in any way you could see or measure, but she had that fire. She felt it. That was her worth. That was her value. She would fight for her loved ones. And she would fight for herself. Because she mattered. The fire inside of her mattered. It could achieve and accomplish.
People might look down on her, but she was making her way with as much integrity as she could with limited options. The woman in the mirror wore a wedding gown and high heels, but her eyes shone with the confidence and drive of a warrior.
If that wasn’t classy, she didn’t know what was.
“Má.”
Esme turned away from the mirror right as a small body launched itself at her. Little arms wrapped around her waist, and her heart burst with incandescence. She hefted her girl up and hugged her tight, pressing their cheeks together like she always did, and that enormous love bloomed inside of her. Baby smell, baby-soft skin, little body—well, not as little now.
“Here my girl is.”
A little face snuggled close, and over her girl’s shoulder, Esme saw her mom and grandma walk into the room.
They’d just arrived from Việt Nam yesterday and had to be exhausted and jet-lagged, but they’d both dressed in their fanciest áo dài and were grinning from ear to ear with excitement. Her mom even wore makeup. Esme had never seen her so beautiful, and suddenly, she was glad Quân had decided to have such an extravagant wedding. Weddings were as much for families as they were for the bride and groom, maybe more.
“Already, let your mom go. You’ll ruin her dress,” her mom said as she urged Jade to climb down. Then she hugged Esme tight, and Esme couldn’t help catching the light smell of fish sauce from her mother’s clothes and hair
and grinning. Esme had to be half Americanized now if she detected that scent. She didn’t mind it, though.
Her mom pulled away and sighed with maternal pride as she looked at Esme in her gown. “Girl is sublimely beautiful.”
“Truly beautiful.” Her grandma hugged her briefly, an extraordinary display of affection since older generations didn’t generally hug, and Esme caught the smell of more fish sauce. Instead of worrying about venting out the room, she breathed the smell deep into her lungs. It reminded her of home. She was a country girl, after all. Her origins didn’t define her, but they were a part of her. She refused to be ashamed of them.
“Má looks like a fairy,” Jade said in awe before her forehead wrinkled.
“Will Cậu Quân be my dad after this?”
Esme sighed and brushed her fingers over her girl’s soft cheek. “I don’t know. Maybe. But don’t get your hopes up, okay? Cậu Quân is just marrying me to help us. It’s not a real marriage. Do you understand?”
Jade’s expression turned solemn. “I understand.”
“This place is too nice for it not to be a real marriage,” her mom insisted, looking at the fancy crown molding and furniture. “So clean, so big, air conditioning. He has good intentions, Mỹ à.”
Esme didn’t have the energy to explain, so she sighed and lifted her shoulders. The four of them settled onto the couches, Jade right next to her mommy, and caught up on the gossip from home as the minutes ticked by on the clock.
Esme grew antsier with each passing second until finally she hugged Jade close and shut her eyes, too distracted to concentrate on the talking.
A knock sounded, and Quân cracked the door open, walked inside, and shut the door behind him. He nodded at her grandma and mom and winked at Jade before focusing on Esme, looking dangerously handsome in his suit and tattoos. Maybe he appeared a little dazed, too. Esme had never looked so stunning, and she knew it.
Recovering, he said, “It’s time.” He shrugged his shoulders to adjust his suit coat. “He’s not here, so let’s do this.”
“Are you sure?” Esme asked.
“Absolutely. Are you?”
Esme stood up, brushed her skirts off, took a big breath, and nodded. “Yes.
Thank you. For everything.”
His eyes met hers and crinkled at the edges as he smiled. “Of course.” He opened the door and led Esme and her family into the hallway, where an older man in a suit waited with an elaborate bouquet of white roses in his hands. “This is my uncle. He’s going to walk you down the aisle.”
The man smiled and bowed his head at everyone, murmuring polite greetings.
“No, I’ll walk her down,” her mom said before she grabbed Esme’s hand and squeezed. “I’ve been both her mom and her dad since she was little. I should do it.”
Quân smiled in surprise. “Okay, then. Bác will let you know when it’s time to walk. See you there.” He nodded at her once and ushered her grandma and Jade toward the ceremony location, leaving Esme and her mom there in the hallway with his uncle.
She took shallow breaths and flashed a tight smile at her mom and Quân’s uncle as she battled a rising sense of panic. She was doing the right thing; she knew it. But her heart didn’t care. It wanted what it wanted, and that was not Quân or a fake marriage. Her heart wanted Khải, forever.
Loud footsteps echoed down the marble hall, and for a second, her hopes rose. Maybe he’d come after all.
But the footsteps faded before anyone appeared, and Esme’s hopes plummeted again.
A cello started playing somewhere in the distance, and Quân’s uncle said, “This way.”
He handed Esme the bouquet, and her hands went numb. Loud silence
filled her head.
It was time.
Her mom hooked arms with her, smiled with encouragement, and guided her to follow Quân’s uncle. The building echoed as high-heeled shoes clicked over the marble, click-click, click-click, click-click. They entered the rotunda, where the ceremony was to take place at the bottom of the grandest staircase she’d ever seen. A domed ivory-colored ceiling arched several stories above with intricate artwork of angels—or perhaps naked people. Either way, they had to be cold.
Rows and rows of guests, flowers, a cellist, a handsome groom waiting for her at the altar. It should have made her happy. It didn’t.
She clutched her bouquet tighter, lifted her chin, and prepared to walk down the center aisle between the seated guests.
“Sir, you can’t go in here. There’s a wedding taking place. Sir—”
A commotion behind her had her whipping around as her heart sang with
anticipation.
But it wasn’t Khải.
It was an older man, a familiar-looking man, even though she was certain she’d never met him before.
Average height, a bit of a belly, khaki pants, a light-blue button-down shirt, and a navy-blue sports coat. Short hair that was more salt than pepper.
And eyes that could be any color from this distance. If she was being honest, they looked brown.
Her heart stopped beating.
Did he have truck-driver hands?
“Is it you?” he asked, but he wasn’t looking at Esme. “Linh?”
Esme’s mom gasped and covered her mouth.
The man stepped forward, his movements slow like he was in a trance. “I
got the strangest voice mail yesterday. Someone asking for a Phil who knew a Linh in Vietnam twenty-four years ago. He said Phil’s daughter was getting married in San Francisco’s City Hall today, and she needed her father.”
He searched Esme’s face before focusing beside her again, and her mom gripped Esme’s arm like it was the only thing keeping her upright.
“I didn’t know for sure. I thought chances were low. I came anyway,” the man said as he came closer yet, two meters away, one meter, and the light- green shade of his eyes took the breath from Esme’s lungs. “I took the next flight out, a red-eye, from New York City.”
“Y-you live in New York?” her mom asked, using the only English Esme had ever heard her speak.
“Alone—I live alone in New York.” He cleared his throat before continuing, “I came back. For you. I looked for you everywhere. You were nowhere. But now, I think I know why. She’s”—his gaze switched back to Esme—“mine?”
Her mom pushed on Esme until she stepped toward him, and Esme said, “Schumacher? Is that your name? Phil Schumacher?”
Puzzled creases darkened his brow. “Phil Schuma—No, I’m not a Schumacher. My name is Gleaves. Gleaves Philander. I went by Phil until I grew into Gleaves,” he said with an apologetic smile before his eyes widened with horror. “That’s why you couldn’t find me? All you knew was Phil.
You’ve been looking for a Philip.”
“Do we want to postpone the wedding and talk about this somewhere in private?” Quân asked as he stalked down the aisle toward their small group.
Before anyone could answer, there was another commotion behind them.
“Sir, there’s a wedding—”
“I’m here for the wedding,” a familiar voice said, and Khải burst into the room, looking out of sorts with his hair standing up in all directions and his chest billowing on heavy breaths like he’d run here. He took one look at Esme, and his eyes went dreamy.
“You’re late,” Quân said.
Without taking his eyes away from Esme, Khải said, “There was traffic, but it helped that I rode the motorcycle here. I went around the stopped cars.”
“About time,” Quân said.
But Khải didn’t acknowledge his brother. He was watching Esme like he usually did, with complete, undivided attention. “I’m sorry I’m late—with riding the bike and coming here.”
She shook her head. Once she’d seen the photograph of his cousin next to the motorcycle, everything had clicked into place. “No need for sorry. I understand you.”
Khải swallowed and stepped toward her, stretched his fingers out, relaxed them, stretched them out again. “Is the wedding over already? There was something I needed to say.”
“No, it is not over.” Esme’s hands shook, so she tightened them on her bouquet. He was here. He’d come. He had something important to say.
Her hope grew so big she didn’t know how her body held it.
His shoulders sagged in relief before he noticed the other wedding crasher next to him. “Who are you?”
The man—very possibly her dad—fumbled for words for a moment before he said, “I’m Gleaves.”
Khải nodded like everything was perfectly normal. “You must be the right Phil, then. Glad you made it.”
“You’re the one who left the voice message,” Gleaves said.
“You never called me back.”
“I hopped on the next plane out.”
“That’s good—” Whatever Khải would have said next was interrupted when Jade ran down the aisle and latched onto Esme’s skirts.
“He’s Cậu Khải,” Jade said.
Khải’s jaw dropped, and he stared at Jade. “There’s a tiny Esme.”
Esme’s heart slammed hard as she glanced from Khải to Gleaves and back.
Both men looked dumbfounded. “Her name is Jade. She is mine.”
Jade huddled closer.
Khải’s eyes met hers. “You never told me.”
“Cô Nga said you did not want a family, and I was afraid, and—” She bit her lip. She didn’t have any more arguments than that.
What had he come here to say? Had this news changed things?
She lifted her chin. If he thought she was unclassy for having a baby so young, he didn’t deserve her or Jade.
He surprised her by crouching down, considering Jade, and holding his hand out like they were acquaintances meeting for business.
Jade glanced at Esme for a second before she eased toward Khải. After looking at him for a long while, she shook his hand like a little grown-up.
Neither said a single word, but Esme got the feeling they understood each other perfectly.
When Khải straightened, he glanced around, looking at Gleaves, Jade, Quân, and finally Esme’s mom. Inclining his head at her, he said, “Chào, Cô.”
Her mom narrowed her eyes at him. “Already, what important thing do you have to say? We have a lot of people here waiting for the wedding to start.”
At that moment, Esme became horribly conscious of the attention focused on them, hundreds of curious eyes. “Má, let’s go somewhere private. He can say it there, and—”
“No, here, where everyone can see,” her mom demanded in a steely voice, standing up to him despite the gigantic gap in their wealth and education levels. “My daughter was good to you, and you broke her heart. What do you have to say?”
He flinched and let his gaze roam over the crowd, and Esme knew he hated
their attention as much as she did. Eventually, however, he focused on her
again, stepped forward, and spoke.
“Anh yêu em.”
She drew in a silent breath and covered her mouth, too shocked to speak, to do anything. Even in her wildest dreams, he told her in English.
He took another step toward her, and another, until they were a mere arm’s length apart. Looking at her like she was everything, he said, “I love you. I told myself I didn’t. Because I was afraid to lose someone again, and I doubted myself, and I wanted only the best for you. But the feeling has gotten too big to deny. My heart works in a different way, but it’s yours. You’re my one.”
He motioned toward Gleaves and Quân, and both men stood up straighter.
“You have options now. You don’t have to marry if you don’t want to.
Now that we’ve found your dad, your paperwork will be easy—well, easier.
But if you do want to marry …” He breathed in deep and fell to one knee.
“Marry me. And not just for three years, but for keeps.” He patted at his pockets and grimaced. “I forgot your ring, but I swear I got you one. It’s nice.
You can probably cut windows with it if—” He cleared his throat and looked at her with melting softness. “Will you marry me? If you still love me?”
Her heart filled and filled and filled until her eyes blurred over with tears.
“I will always love you.”
“Is that a yes?” he asked.
She handed the bouquet to her mom and pulled him to his feet. “I do not have to, but, yes, I will marry you.”
His biggest grin stretched over his face, with dimples, and before all the wedding guests, he drew her close and kissed her like the first time. Lips to lips, hearts melting together, no distance between them, not even an arm’s length.
