Chapter 4
Edward Quan ·
12
After we explained ourselves at reception, someone called upstairs.
A secretary took us to a reception room.
Tieu Tri was busy now. We waited more than half an hour before he appeared.
Tu Triet Hao stood awkwardly.
Still on the phone, Tieu Tri gestured for him to sit.
When the call ended, he sat opposite us and crossed his legs.
“What is it?”
His gaze passed over me without a flicker.
“Sorry to trouble you, Mr Tieu.”
Tu Triet Hao inclined his head and placed a neat stack of cash on the coffee table.
Then he delivered his prepared lines.
“My wife told me she accidentally scratched your car…”
Tieu Tri frowned, already impatient.
“My assistant will contact you about the repairs. If there’s nothing else, you can go.”
He didn’t look at me again.
He stood to leave.
His indifference made the entire performance seem unnecessary.
But Tu Triet Hao stayed in character.
“My wife says you used to date. We’re very happy now. We’re not wealthy, but we have enough.
“So I’d appreciate it if you stopped disturbing our life.”
Tieu Tri stopped.
He turned back, his expression calm.
“It’s true that I had trouble letting go. But now that Ky Hoa has the life she wanted, I wish her well.”
He looked at me and smiled.
It was a faint smile, with something of release in it, as though all the turmoil and mistakes lay far behind us.
For a moment, my body felt weightless.
My heart felt unbearably heavy.
After he left, Tu Triet Hao frowned.
“Mr Tieu seems perfectly reasonable. Why did Miss Tham go to all this trouble?”
I smiled a little.
“A wealthy family’s marriage. I suppose she wants to be careful.
“I’ll have to ask you to keep acting a little longer. Will you take me home?”
He scratched his head and gave a good-natured laugh.
“I’ve helped this far. Might as well see it through.”
Outside the reception room, I asked him to go down first.
I needed the bathroom.
Pregnancy had made those trips more and more frequent.
By the time I came out, my vision was blurring again.
I was used to it now. I knew my sight fluctuated with my emotions, and I no longer panicked as I once had.
I followed the wall toward the exit.
Hearing footsteps, I held out a hand.
“Excuse me. I can’t see very well. Could you help me downstairs?”
As the blurred figure approached, a familiar scent reached me.
I went rigid.
Tieu Tri.
Heaven really did enjoy making a fool of me.
Even at this last meeting, I had to let him see me at my worst.
His voice trembled slightly.
“What’s wrong with your eyes?”
I tried to sound calm.
“Pregnancy hormones. Sometimes I can see, sometimes I can’t. It should be all right after the birth.
“It’s fine. I can manage.”
I began to withdraw my hand.
His closed around it.
Firm, but gentle.
“Let me.”
He said nothing else.
We walked slowly together.
The warmth of his palm seemed to spread through me. My heart beat so hard I could scarcely breathe.
We both understood.
This was the last stretch of road we would walk together.
Neither of us spoke.
He took me downstairs to Tu Triet Hao.
Before letting go, he tightened his grip for a moment.
“Live well, Ky Hoa. Take good care of yourself.”
I nodded.
Before the tears could spill, I pulled my hand from his.
13
At last, my life grew quiet.
Nobody came to disturb me.
I had exchanged a love I would never forget for a future without financial worries.
Perhaps it was worth it.
Sometimes I still woke in the middle of the night thinking of Tieu Tri.
Of our happy days in that shabby little room.
But life had to go on.
The past would remain the past.
I bought a plane ticket and kept my promise to Tham Tri Y.
I would leave this city.
I had no intention of returning.
Before I went, I visited my parents.
They were just as they had always been.
A few sentences together, and they would start arguing, cursing, fighting.
Then they would make up as if nothing had happened.
Their world held nothing but love and hate.
That was all right.
They didn’t love me, but neither did they bother about how I lived.
Whatever I became was entirely my own choice.
Even the sight of me pregnant caused no surprise.
Mum sounded half mocking, half instructive.
“Ky Hoa, I didn’t give you a pretty face so you could waste it. It doesn’t matter whose baby you’re carrying. When you marry, make sure the man has money.”
Dad snorted.
“Don’t listen to that nonsense. A woman needs self-respect.
“Being poor is one thing. Losing your dignity is another.
“Don’t turn out like your mother, using her looks to wreck somebody else’s family!”
They began arguing again.
The old memories rushed back.
My belly tightened with faint cramps.
When I left, they didn’t even notice.
I pulled my suitcase to the airport alone.
Looking down at my swollen belly, I told myself that in five more months, I wouldn’t be alone anymore.
I would give my child all the love I had.
And all the love I had never received.
14
Just before I boarded, Tieu Tri’s mother stopped me.
He and Tham Tri Y were about to marry, she said.
At such a crucial moment, she wanted no complications.
She knew the baby was his.
All the more reason he must not find out.
She wanted to send me abroad.
Once everything was settled, I could come home.
She would give me a large sum of money, enough to keep the child and me comfortable for the rest of our lives.
If I liked living overseas, she could even help me settle there.
I had no reason to refuse.
It hardly mattered where I went.
I was alone wherever I was.
So she took me to London to wait for the birth.
She arranged everything herself.
Perhaps out of affection for the baby, she also hired a Chinese woman to look after me.
The woman was efficient and quiet.
She asked few questions and seemed to understand my situation.
She even smiled and said, “Plenty of wealthy people back home do this. Don’t get too caught up in what’s proper. Just make yourself comfortable.”
I smiled without explaining or defending myself.
Life here was much easier.
But London’s gray sky felt so heavy that I could hardly breathe.
I still preferred home.
Once Tieu Tri and Tham Tri Y were married, I would return to China.
Find a quiet little city.
Raise my child.
Live peacefully.
I checked the news from home often.
Yet by the time I went into labor, there was still no word of their wedding.
On the delivery bed, pain swept over me in waves.
My vision blurred, cleared, blurred again.
The midwife held my hand and encouraged me in English.
At the height of the pain, I seemed to hallucinate.
The midwife beside me became Tieu Tri.
He bent over me, his eyes gentle, his familiar voice like something from a dream.
“Ky Hoa, keep going. Our baby will be here soon.”
When the newborn’s cry rang out, my eyes filled.
Then everything slipped away.
I woke to doctors and nurses.
No Tieu Tri.
Of course. It had only been a hallucination.
The midwife brought a tiny bundle to me, smiling warmly.
“I’m really happy for you!”
I looked at that little red, wrinkled creature, so unfamiliar and so lovable.
I couldn’t stop crying.
Our child.
Mine and Tieu Tri’s.