Page 53 of Just Try, Again and Again

“The younger generation is becoming less traditional, but that practice is still very common. There are also certain rules on how to meet the parents, to get engaged…” Mr. Sano looks awayto his garden and I don’t miss the pained look on his face. “To get married.”

“Again, I apologize, sir.”

“Haruki’s mother was a foreigner, Bryce,” he says, his eyes back on me. “So I understand that the cultural difference plays a part here, but to get married after only knowing one another for such a short amount of time? And for you both to keep it from everyone for so long?” I don’t answer, because my default response would be to say sorry again. I’m getting the feeling he knows I’m here to repent. To my surprise, his features soften. “Haruki told me that it was her who wanted to keep it a secret. Is that true?”

“She didn’t want to disappoint you, sir,” I tell him the truth. “Haruki really loves you and she is always looking for your approval. I asked her to marry me when the two of you were not in a good place. I think she was afraid that if she said anything, it would get in the way of you rebuilding your relationship. She was just doing what she thought was right.”

He’s studying me again, trying to figure me out as he sips his tea, and I can’t help but feel like I’m at a goddamn job interview that I’m failing. “Why are you here, Bryce? After all these years?”

“I’m here because Haruki showed up at my doorstep and asked for a divorce.”

“Ah, I see,” he says with a splinter of amusement. “I was wondering when she would do that. She asked me to hand over some documents of hers when she came here last year.”

My jaw clenches, imagining her setting the gears in motion for her to ask for a divorce and get some closure. “She already asked me for a divorce the night I hurt your nephew…the night you overheard us. Haruki told me that your relationship was strained after what I did.”

“Why are you here, Bryce?” he asks again. “Are you asking my permission to divorce my daughter?”

I resist the urge to scoff and smile through the jab instead. “I’m here because I haven’t been able to move on from her. I’m here because I think she might feel the same. I know she hasn’t dated anyone seriously after me. But I’m not going to open that door unless you let me. She won’t be fully happy unless you accept me, or at the very least tolerate me.” Blowing out a long breath of preparation, I blurt out what I’m here to say. “I’m here to ask your permission to be with your daughter.”

“And why should I give it to you?”That’s a fair question.

“You don’t know me very well, Mr. Sano, and I don’t know how much she has told you about me. I wasn’t a very happy teenager, and neither was Haruki. We probably married each other for the wrong reasons, but I would be lying if I said that I regretted it. I have never loved anyone the way I loved, and still do love, your daughter. It’s a shame that I met her at the time I did. I can’t promise you that I won’t make mistakes, and I can’t promise you that I won’t piss you off again in the future, but I can promise you that I will try my best. That was always my intention, I just didn’t execute it very well.”

I’m not as emotional as I was when I was younger. The thought of that motherfucker Logan doesn’t cause me to burn with rage as badly as it did before, and the fleeting memories of my mother don’t cause me to cry anymore, but being here, begging Haruki’s dad for approval makes me feel like I need to do a hundred jumping jacks just to blow off some steam and channel out the mixed bag of feelings inside of me.

Mr. Sano makes his best attempt at giving me what I think is a smile, but I’m not sure. I don’t think I have ever seen this man smile before—always a poker face—but I don’t care, I’ll take whatever he gives me. “She’s mature enough to make decisions for herself now,” he says with a sigh. “Just invite me to the wedding this time.”

I can work with this. I’ll take it.

47

Haruki - 31 years old

Two weeks later

The restaurant looks like it was specifically designed to be posted on Instagram. In fact, it looks so pretty that some of our clients request to do their engagement shoots here. But it’s not the aesthetics that usually drive people to come to this greenhouse-turned-dining establishment, it’s the produce that the restaurant owners use from their small farm just outside of Copenhagen.

“So farm-to-table is a really big concept in Denmark, huh?” Bryce asks as he takes his credit card and slips it back into his wallet.

“Yep. I think I even read somewhere that the Danes buy the most organic things worldwide.”

“You ready to head back?” Bryce tilts his head to the entrance. When I nod, he gives me a polite smile, just like one does during a first date, and says, “Come, I’ll walk you home.”

The moment we get out of the building, the April night chill seeps through my bones. I remember lots of nights walking through this street with Kate and Torben, back when I was doing my second master’s degree, drunk off cheap wine. I spent a few of those strolls stuck in my own head, reminiscing about the time I ran away from home at eighteen. It’s surreal to see Bryce in the flesh being here with me.

“So, what’s your stance on kids?” Bryce suddenly asks, breaking me out of my thoughts.

“Uh, what?”

“Oh, you know,” he says with a smirk on his face. “It’s a question people usually ask during a first date. To see whether they’re compatible or not.”

I snort at his statement. Everything between us has always been so ridiculous, even this date, but it doesn’t feel awkward. “I don’t want kids,” I tell him the truth. I don’t remember us ever having this discussion when we were younger, but I was never crazy about being a mom. “I work too much; plus, I travel a lot. I love my life as it is, and it wouldn’t be fair to my kid or to my partner. I think I’d be happy playing the role of the fun aunt for the rest of my life.”

“Really?” I can’t tell if he’s amused or disappointed at my answer. “I don’t want them, either.”

“Really?” I throw his word back to him, squinting my eyes. “You’re not just saying that because I don’t want kids?”

“If I did want them, I’d be upfront with my dates. It’s not like my biological clock is not ticking,” he teases. “I have Birdie and she’s enough for me. She’s like my own anyway, and I love her to death. But I’ve changed my fair share of diapers in my early twenties. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt. I’m in no rush to do it again.”

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