Page 29 of The Other Side of Apart
I glance at Mei pulled into a ball on the bed, her hands pressed together under her chin like she’s praying. And maybe she is. Maybe she saw my implosion and is worried about me. The weight of the argument with Dad and the inscription in this card and our new reality settle on my shoulders, so heavy I haveto drop into the ratty chair by the window. I stare into the dark room, the clock on the microwave blinking blue spots into this murky place between night and morning. I’m hoping the day never comes. But one thing I know for sure—a promise to myself and the silence and the looming threats—She’s not going back to San Francisco, and I’m not going anywhere without her.
CHAPTER 14
Marcus: Never been jealous of dogs before, but they’re with you, and I’m just so not.
Mei: They’re all over me.
Marcus: Can I be all over you too?
Mei: If you stay on your leash and don’t bark and go potty in designated areas, yes.
Marcus: Wagging my tail.
The sun’s breaking through the layers of puffy clouds as I sit on a park bench watching Alfie and Moose play. They love wrestling, and I love watching them even if I’m more of a cat person. I hope to convince Marcus to get one someday, but dogs come in a close second.
This has been our routine the past few weeks since getting my job as a dog walker. Walk, play, walk, play, treat. We’re almost to the treat part, and that means Marcus will be home in four hours. In the meantime, I’ll hang out with the other menin my life I see more than Marcus now that he’s in pre-season. Good thing all my furry clients are almost as cute as Marcus and love me almost as much as he does.
I let the sun soak into my bare arms stretched along the back of the bench. Fresh air, cute dogs, decent paychecks. I’ll take this job anytime over working in a restaurant. Also, I didn’t have to use my fake passport when I got the job since it pays in cash. Guo Mama gave us a red envelope of money at our wedding, but when we pulled it out after getting to the house on San Juan Island, there were two passports—for Darius Bromley and Peggy Bromley. Marcus was completely confused about how Guo Mama could pull it off. I wasn’t. Either way, I don’t trust fake IDs. I’m glad they’re still tucked away with the diamonds in the tampon box in Marcus’s duffle bag. I hope we don’t have to use either anytime soon.
Alfie runs back for a drink of water in the bowl by my feet, and Moose comes over for an ear rub. I talk to them both in a voice only they understand, smiling, happy for this perfectly normal day in my new life. Not that normal has been perfect. Our apartment is pretty bare—one couch, a mattress on the floor, one lamp—except for the giant TV on the wall and shiny new game console under it.
I smile, remembering how Marcus had spent hours setting it up and how proud he was when we watched our first movie on it. Now he wants surround sound.
Thanks, Not-Mom-Olivia, for the gift card.
Alfie jumps up on my lap, wagging his tail, then jumps off and darts toward Moose, who wrestles him to the ground. I glance at my phone and stand, calling them over. They run up to me, and I ruffle their fur and put their leashes back on. We head to the corner market. It’s taken me a few weeks to get used to being so visible so close to San Francisco, but I feel safer withdogs at the end of a leash, even if they’re too friendly to ever do damage to anyone.
On our way, I pass a teenage couple sauntering down the sidewalk with Slurpees, and a night on San Juan Island slips through my mind. We’d wandered down a quiet side street, taking drags on a shared blue raspberry Slurpee. Marcus kept stopping and squeezing his head between his hands, complaining about the heinous brain freezes, and I’d confessed I’d never actually experienced one.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he’d said. “If I’d known how inexperienced you are in the more important matters of life, I probably wouldn’t have married you.” He’d slid the Slurpee cup into my hand and nodded toward it. “Take a drag. Like it’s a cup full of Marcus.”
I’d followed his instructions, my eyes never leaving his, and when I’d inhaled half of the Slurpee, he’d snatched it from my hands and leaned forward, waiting for my reaction. I’d waited too, closing my eyes and pushing at my temples, pointing the way for an experience that never came.
I smile and tighten my hands around the leashes as I pass the couple, remembering every detail of what came after.
I saunter through the sliding doors of the market, and a familiar voice sings at me. “Mei Li!” Fay beams at me as she shuffles closer. “Are Alfie and Moose ready for their treats?” The eighty-five-year-old greeter and I have pretty much become best friends since I see her every day, and she always has doggie treats stashed in her apron pockets.
“They sure are! How are you today?” I ask, holding on to her arm.
“Oh, I’m having just the best day ever. Also, we got new flowers. You should take one home for your hubby. It’ll make his day.”
I laugh. “Can he eat them or talk sports with them?”
She waves her hand. “Men like flowers, too. They just don’t know it until they get them. I used to work in a florist shop and brought home flowers all the time for Dennis. It made his day! I’ll hold onto the boys’ leashes, and you can go pick out the perfect bunch for Marcus.”
I hesitate. “Well…okay, then. Why not?” I make my way to the flowers and find the smallest, cheapest arrangement. Not that it matters, since Marcus seems to have no problem spending money, especially on me. Like buying me clothes and splurging on the most expensive restaurant on “Mei Day.”
I change my mind and select the largest arrangement, then snag a few of Marcus’s favorite snacks and go through self-checkout before heading back to Fay. I take the leashes from her. “Thanks for the tip.” I hold up the flowers.
“Anytime. And here.” She grabs my hand, slipping more doggie treats into my palm. “A little extra love for my boys.”
Waving to her, I follow Alfie and Moose outside and toward the crosswalk. I give them their treats while we wait for the light to change. When it does, we cross the street toward our apartment so I can grab my water bottle and leave the flowers before taking the boys home and picking up my next fluffy clients. But as I step onto the sidewalk, my eyes catch on a car across the street. It rolls forward, veering to the curb, and stops. The black Mercedes throws my memory backwards where it lands in the front passenger seat. There are countless black Mercedes around Stanford, but there’s only one with Nick stepping out of it.
A scream begins in my stomach and rises, getting lodged in my throat. My hand goes to my neck. Maybe he hasn’t seen me. Maybe it’s just a coincidence. But when his gaze turns on me, his black eyes pierce me over passing cars, and my heart plummets. I choke on air as his eyes pin me in place, and his smile creeps toward me.
I drop the paper bag with the flowers and snacks and yank Alfie and Moose in the opposite direction. We fly along the sidewalk, cutting through the grassy park and onto a residential street toward the dogs’ house, not daring to look at the nightmare behind us.
I make it the two blocks and punch in the code to the owner’s house. I shove my way inside. My breath is sharp against my lungs, cutting and slicing at me. I bend over until my stomach lurches, and I dart to the bathroom, throwing up in the sink.
