Page 49 of Just Try, Again and Again

Bryce nods in understanding. He takes his hands away from me and I immediately feel the emptiness. My fingers itch to intertwine themselves with his, but I force them to stay planted on the table.

“What kind of partner would make your father proud, Haruki?” he asks me, toying with the plastic lid from his coffee cup.

“Someone who is big on formalities,” I say with a half-assed smile. The irony is not lost on me that under differentcircumstances, my father and Bryce’s father would have been the best of friends.The best in-laws.

After finishing our drinks and paying the bill, we stand up and start to walk out the door. I try not to question why both of us are dragging our feet, each movement slower than the previous one.

“Haruki, can I ask you something?” he asks as he holds the door open for me. “But you have to be honest with me.”

“Ask away.”

“If you could have a do-over. If there was a magic door that could transport you back in time, would you still marry me? Would you still have gotten in that car with me the night we met? Would you still have extended that date with me and gone with me and Cameron to the bonfire?”

“Without a doubt,” I answer, not hesitating even for one second. “Just because the ending isn’t what we thought it would be, doesn’t mean there weren’t happy memories, Bryce. Like I said, I’m sorry. I should have prepared you more. I should have been more brave. If I were someone else, it might have been different.”I was playing the role of a teenage runaway when we met, but deep inside, I was a chronic parent-pleaser. I’m in my thirties and I still am. I’m desperate for my father’s seal of approval. Sad, but true.

Bryce goes in for a hug and plants a kiss on my forehead. “If you were someone else, I wouldn’t have wanted to be with you,” he whispers. “Have a safe flight, Haruki,” he says with a smile, as if we’re just two friends saying goodbye. “I’ll send a courier with the divorce papers to your office.”

My throat goes dry, trying to make sense of the tragedy unraveling before my eyes; Bryce Randall Simmons is walking away from me. And we are over. For good this time. People think I’m weak, that I bow down to my family for nothing. But they can’t say that I didn’t fight for this man once upon a time.

43

Haruki - 27 years old

The door to my dad’s bedroom is closed, but I can hear the yelling all the way from the kitchen. I pretend to read the article that has been opened on my phone since my dad called me an ungrateful child, when Kenji storms in.

“He’s pissed at you.”Tell me something I don’t know.

“Tell me what he told you, Kenji. It’s okay, I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”Partly true. When it comes to my father, I always cower like a small child. I wish I could be braver, but I can’t. When he welcomed me back into the fold, when he came to Elsham Cove for me, something in me was activated. A don’t-be-a-disappointment-to-Dad button, the one that has managed to put me in control when it comes to holding my tongue.

Kenji blows out a frustrated breath with his hands on his hips. “I get it,” he says in a softer tone, same dark brown eyes as mine looking sympathetic. “But just let him handle it, Haruki, please. It’s turning into a mess.”

“No,” I say. My grip on my tea mug is so tight, I feel like the palm of my hand is getting second-degree burns. “Lorenzo toldme he doesn’t want to press charges or be a part of the divorce proceedings. We already discussed it.”

It’s pretty funny when it’s not happening to you, but the joke’s on us this time. Bryce and I are in our late twenties now, but our fathers have decided that it would be best to treat us like children.

Arthur Simmons is doing everything in his power to paint me as a gold-digging opportunist, meanwhile, Haruto Sano is claiming that my estranged husband is a violent man who coaxed me into marrying him while I was not in the right mental state.

You think a divorce between two people with different nationalities who don’t live in the country they got married in is complicated? Add the fact that the wife got married while being a US national and is getting divorced as a Japanese one. After that, factor in an angry father and a father trying to protect his son’s assets into the mix.

I don’t know what Bryce’s reasoning is for not hiring his own lawyer, but I can’t afford one. Not for this particular uncoupling. Despite everything, we have been married for a long period of time. We didn’t sign a prenup. We didn’t even have rings except for the one he gave me as a Christmas present. We just had love.And hope.

“Have you talked to him?” Kenji asks.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me. I called him a few months ago to ask how he was doing and whether he wanted to discuss the divorce with me. He told me to let our lawyers handle it.”

My dad finally comes out of his room and decides to join us. By the way he’s glaring at me, I’m certain he’s also disappointed in the fact that Kenji tried to defend me. He thinks I’ve brought his precious son to the dark side.

“You are going to do as I say.” There is finality in my father’s tone.

You can’t choose your family, which is why I came to terms a long time ago with the fact that my father will never change, and if I want to have a relationship with him, I’ll just have to accept that he runs the household and his business with an iron fist. But Bryce Simmons didn’t choose this. Bryce chose me. And for some reason I can’t explain, the version of me that chose Bryce back on that beach in the middle of the night is the one that answers my dad.

“This is the last time I am repeating myself. I will not lie and say that I did not marry him out of love. I was sober, of sound mind, and fully capable of making a decision for myself.”

“Haruki,” my dad hisses. “You were grieving your mother. You were a runaway. He took advantage of the situation.”

“Took advantage to get what, exactly, Dad?” I can’t help the scoff that comes out. “I don’t know why you’re twisting this all up. You and Arthur want us to get a divorce? Well you’re both the ones standing in the way of it!” I’m not stupid. This is a game of pride.

“He married you without my permission!”

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