Page 63 of The Other Side of Apart
“Look, Marcus, I?—”
“I don’t really wanna talk about her right now,” I choke.
His eyes are heavy on me through the rearview mirror. “That’s fine. I get it. You know I do.”
He definitely gets it. He knows all about this feeling. But does he know I went and saw Olivia, the reason he knows it? Not bringing that up now or maybe ever. I don’t wanna talk about her, either. Or hurt him more than I already have.
“Listen. There’s something I need to tell you. Not sure how, actually.” He turns on his blinker and switches lanes. “I might’ve known where you were during the last six months but… didn’t know how long you’d be gone. Wasn’t sure if you’d come home or call eventually or…I just didn’t know.” He shrugs. “I wanted to give you space. I knew that’s what you needed—to make decisions on your own. So I made some decisions of my own, too.” His confession hangs in the air, waiting for the rest of whatever he’s going to drop on me.
When I don’t say anything, he shifts in his seat and goes on. “We should talk about Kenna.”
My stomach ices. Her name means betrayal and the end of my life with Dad as I knew it. It’s a name that happened on the same dark night that set my life loose like a wild animal, chasing me to this moment. It means someone who came between Dad and me, and I?—
“You’re gonna see a lot of her.”
“Why’s that?”
He runs a hand through his hair. “We got married. I would’ve told you—asked you—but…” He shrugs.
I roll to my back again. Death blow delivered.
“I didn’t know when I was gonna see you, Marcus.” Dad’s voice is tight, edging around the corner from driver seat to backseat. “Didn’t know if I should wait or call you. So?—”
“When?” I cut him off, staring at the roof and wishing I could eject through it.
“Almost two months ago. November 30th.”
Mei and I were in Indiana. Dad’s married, I’m married. Am I?
My next question bubbles. Not like gum or soap bubbles. More like lava, boiling hot and turbulent. “Did you move? From The Clubhouse?”
He shakes his head. “No. She moved in. You’ll meet her when we get home.”
Home? No such thing. My brain powers down, and I close my eyes, hoping when they open, I’m in a different place, different life…or even better, that they never open at all.
CHAPTER 36
The police station is busy, swirling around me just like the past two days, which are a blur in my head. They cloud reality as I take the elevator to the third floor. I don’t know what I’m doing or why I took Chaz’s word for anything; this could all be a trap, but traps seem so much more straightforward than the last two days of my life.
The elevator dings, and the doors open. I walk to a circular desk, and the lady behind it glances up and offers her help in Mandarin.
I hesitate and respond the best I can. “I’m looking for Detective Chang. Is this the right floor?” The words barely make it out of my mouth, still anchored to the pain lapping at my insides, but the woman stands and tells me to follow her.
Swallowing a bitter surge of fear, I adjust my satchel on my shoulder and grip my duffle bag as I trail her through cubicles to a back office. She motions to a chair next to the office’s closed door, but I can’t sit; if I have to run, I want a head start. I’m glad the door’s closed because I’m not ready to find out where I really am, who Detective Chang really is, and how Chaz knows him. Will he put me in a cage like Nick tried to do?
The woman knocks, and a few seconds later, it opens. When I look up, my eyes land on a tall Taiwanese man in a dark suit and orange tie. His short hair is meticulously styled as is his slight beard. The woman explains in Mandarin that I’m here to see him, and Detective Chang glances at me. He nods to her and opens his door wider, motioning for me to come in. After thanking the woman, he closes the door behind me, and I’m stuck in a place I’m not sure I should be with a man I don’t know and don’t trust. A man who’s asking questions in a language I haven’t spoken in months. Do I want a drink? What’s my name? How can he help? Would I like to sit down?
My Mandarin is good, but I’m not sure it’s good enough to say what I’m supposed to say, so I clear my throat and ask, “Do you speak English?”
He sits in his chair, elbows on his desk. “I do.” His accent disappears completely, and he studies my face. “How can I help you?”
I take a deep breath to dissolve the nausea that could be from not eating, from no sleep, or from fear, since I’m not sure what the words that come out of my mouth will start. “I have something you may or may not want.”
“Okay, why don’t you have a seat?” He waves his hand toward the plump leather chair across the desk from him.
I ease into it, my legs cold and wobbly. “I was told to come to Taiwan and find you and only you. I’m really hoping you’ll understand why.” The sooner he understands, the sooner I can get home to Marcus and live the life we should’ve been living all along.
Detective Chang gives me a half-smile. “It’s my job to understand, so I hope so, too. Let’s start with your name.”
