Chapter 10
Edward Quan ·
I stopped at the words “held it against her.”
They seemed to wound Mom too. Her voice rose.
“Wangshu did nothing wrong. Cheng’an died of an illness. How could that possibly be her fault?”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I know.” She was crying. “I just want you to talk to her kindly. She’s waited too long for today. Five years ago, she was going to get married on September seventeenth in this same Elm Hall. She’d even chosen the dress, but Cheng’an never lived to see the day…”
She broke off.
A terrible silence settled over the corridor.
I stood outside, slowly going cold.
I had never told Xue Shiye everything about that first wedding.
Not because it didn’t matter. Whenever I tried, I didn’t know where to begin.
I had told him about losing my fiancé. I had told him I wanted to start again at Elm Hall.
But I had never dared tell him who September seventeenth had originally belonged to.
I was afraid he would think himself a replacement. More afraid still that he would stand before me and ask:
*If you’re so attached to the past, why did you agree to marry me?*
Even I had never worked out the answer.
—
### 9
“Ma’am.”
Xue Shiye spoke very slowly.
“What did you just say?”
Mom didn’t answer. He asked again.
“Where was Shen Wangshu going to get married five years ago?”
She hurried to explain.
“That’s all in the past, Shiye. You’re the one she wants to marry now.”
“I’m asking where.”
His tone had changed completely.
I closed my eyes, drew a deep breath, and pushed open the door.
Only the two of them remained. Yingqiao and the friends had left at some point.
Mom stood by the coffee table, her eyes red. Shiye sat on the sofa.
He looked up at the noise. His gaze settled on my dress. After staring for a long time, he slowly stood.
“Shen Wangshu.”
I went to Mom.
“Go and find Zhixia first.”
She gripped my hand.
“Wangshu, I… I didn’t mean to…”
“I know.” I patted her hand gently. “It’s all right.”
She glanced anxiously at him, then left quietly.
The door closed.
He didn’t speak at once. He only stared.
He had never looked at me like that. Amid the fury were suspicion and profound hurt, as though I had publicly humiliated him.
Finally, he asked:
“Today is September seventeenth. Right?”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
“And this place is Elm Hall?”
“Yes.”
His breathing grew heavy.
“Five years ago, you and Xu Cheng’an were going to hold your wedding here, on this date?”
My fingers slowly curled.
“Yes.”
He laughed, cold enough to chill me.
“So that’s it,” he murmured. “That’s it. No wonder you wouldn’t consider any date but September seventeenth. No wonder you wouldn’t even look at all the luxury hotels my parents suggested.”