“Tell me everything.”

I let it all stomp and sprint and roll out of me—the moving around, fear of Nick, Marcus’s resentment. Guo Mama listens, waits for me to run out of breath and then speaks.

“You two are doing something more difficult than most couples. It has never been easy for you to be together, has it?”

I swallow a lump in my throat. “No.”

“The very best things never are. When things are easy, you should be cautious. Easy never sticks.” She pauses. “You want this to stick, yes?”

I nod, circling my throat with my hand. “Yes. So bad. I want it to be the stickiest,” I say through a weak smile.

“Ah, yes. You are a smart girl.” She chuckles. “You are both so very lucky to have each other, so keep going. Keep doing whatever it takes to make your marriage work. Sometimes you will give 100%, and sometimes Marcus will give 100%. You are a team. A very beautiful team, if I do say so myself.” The warmth in her voice melts over me, softening some places inside me, but also drawing attention to the hard places.

“I don’t want to be the one who always takes, but I also don’t want to always give more, either. That’s what Mama did, and I don’t want anything like that. Ever. I never want a life like hers.”

“Then do not create that life. You have choices, Xiao Mei. Your mama did, too. She did what she thought was right at the time. Maybe it was the wrong choice, but you are different. Talk to Marcus. Tell him all these things you are telling me. Marcus loves you so very deeply, and I know you feel the same. You are meant to be together. Do whatever it takes, and when you are on top of this hard time, you will have a better view and see.”

CHAPTER 29

Marcus,

I’ve been thinking. I don’t want you for just today or tomorrow or for the next 50 years. Any chance you’re available forever? Check your schedule and get back to me.

Mei

It’s gonna be a great afternoon. Mei and I were at least stable when I left for work this morning, and we laughed and talked like normal. A great date idea is growing in my head, and I need to figure out some details. I said what I needed to say, she knows what she needs to know. Do over number…who knows. Lost count. I feel like one of those old guys who chuckles and smiles and tells anyone young and inexperienced that marriage is work. Thing is…we’re young but far from inexperienced. Feel like I’m forty by now.

I unlock the apartment door and throw my keys on the counter. Charlie jumps off his windowsill hammock bed we made him and trots over to me, stretches, then sits at my feetand meows. After I pick him up, ruffle his neck fur, and talk to him about his day, I open the cupboard and give him what he really wants: the treats Mei made fun of me for buying because I wouldn’t spend the money on Oreos but couldn’t resist getting Charlie a little something that didn’t smell like dead fish.

Charlie rubs against me then eats the treats right out of my hand. I set him down, kick off my shoes, and put the milk I picked up on the way home in the fridge. Changing my mind, I take it back out, drink half of it, and put it back. Leaning against the counter, I check out the text Mei sent on her lunch break again and smile. Things are definitely back to normal if she’s sending texts like this.

I send her a selfie of me with very raised eyebrows. I add exclamation points and grab a couple of protein bars from the cupboard. She’ll be home in two hours, and I wanna plan something special for tonight. My cooking isn’t exactly special, but it would be nice for her to come home to something that’s intended to be delicious. A night together will be perfect since I’ve been getting home late, and she hasn’t felt awesome. I still haven’t gotten whatever she had, so…fingers crossed.

I put in my earbuds and zone out to music while I do my best to make jambalaya. The whole place smells like onions, and that’s gonna pretty much kill the mood when Mei gets home. I open the door, trying to air out the apartment. Charlie perches in front of it, too scared to step beyond the door frame because the neighbors across from us have a dog that has a bad case of little dog syndrome.

I keep my eye on him as I sauté and chop and read the recipe I found online that looks the most like Meemaw’s. If there’s anyone I’d run to, it would be Meemaw, and I’m living closer to her now than I ever have since Dad and I moved to San Francisco. But I can’t call her; Dad would know where we are. She’d tell him everything, no matter how I made her promise.She can keep secrets—she kept the one about Mei and me getting busy in The Clubhouse as far as I know—but she wouldn’t keep Dad in agony for my sake.

My mind floats toward San Francisco and home and what Dad’s doing right now, and I turn up my music and sing along. When we’re back in Stanford, I’ll call him and try to work things out. I mentally draft what I’ll say to him but get distracted when Charlie darts across the living room and under the couch. I look over my shoulder and freeze. In the doorway stands the greasy guy who was feeling up Mei months ago in the alley behind the restaurant. I haven’t seen him since, but there’s no forgetting Nick’s ugly face.

I grip the knife in my hand as I yank out my earbuds.

“Did I come at a bad time?” He sneers, leaning against the doorjamb. “I probably should have called first. Left a note, maybe?”

My heart changes rhythm, my blood reversing in my veins, going from cold to boiling.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in and tell Mei Li I’m here?” He laughs and steps inside the apartment.

My fingers flex around the knife, and my feet tense, ready to rush the nightmare as he kicks the door closed.

“Get the hell out.” My phone’s behind me, and I’m not gonna turn my back to get it. I swallow.

“Why would I do that when I’ve come so far to find you?”

“I said get out. Last chance.” My whole body tenses. “Because if you don’t, you’re dead. I’ve been fantasizing about killing you since the first time I saw you.”

“Ah. The detective’s son, a murderer.” He laughs and rubs his temple, one hand still in his pocket. “I’ve been fantasizing about a few things too, but it doesn’t involve you.”

My fingers wrap around the knife handle. Dad always taught me never to use a weapon I didn’t know how to use effectively.I’ve never knifed anyone, so I drop it on the counter and rush Nick, grabbing the collar of his jacket and ramming him into the wall. I’m double his size, and I’ve been working out. I don’t need a knife.