“Eva said she wouldn’t break you two up,” his mother continued.
“Once the baby is born, I’ll help raise it. Just pretend this never happened.”
I whispered, “Auntie, let’s just forget it.”
Seeing I was unresponsive, her tone changed.
“Why are you so stubborn! You’re nothing more than a college student, a far
cry from our Miles, and you still need to know basic principles.”
“He made one mistake and confessed. Are you going to condemn him to
death? Aren’t you tired of hitting a dead end?”
I clutched the phone tightly.
“Auntie, since you’ve always despised my education and felt our family
wasn’t worthy… now that I’m withdrawing, your son deserves someone
better.”
I hung up immediately.
Miles’ family had been academics for generations. At every gathering, they
would ask about my degree.
When I told them, they would exchange glances and sigh.
“That university… I’m afraid it will lower our family’s average. A child’s IQ
comes from the mother. Our future is going to be difficult!”
Miles would sit there with a faint smile, never defending me.
He actually despised me too, didn’t he?
I remember when I first confessed, he looked at me with contempt.
“Bianca, my girlfriend must have an SAT score of 1500. Your score just
passed the baseline, right?”
He accepted me later only because I pestered him for three years.
In the elevator, I slid down the cold wall and sat on the floor, breathing
rapidly.
I don’t know how long passed before the elevator descended.
When the doors opened, a tall figure stood against the light.
I couldn’t see his expression, but I knew he was frowning, just like every
time he saw me wronged.
He raised his hand, his thumb wiping away my tears, and pulled me into his
arms.
“Bianca, you are not allowed to make yourself look like this ever again.”
A heavy smell of alcohol hit my face.
This person, usually so gentle and refined, had actually sworn on the phone
earlier.
I pushed him gently, afraid the doors would close, but he tightened his arms.
“You’re not allowed to take it back!” he said.
“Take what back…”
“I’ve discussed it with both families. The wedding preparations have started.
Three days from now is the most auspicious day.”
He pulled me out without explanation, his sweaty palm revealing his
nervousness.
Looking at his tense profile, I stopped walking. “Noah, I want a traditional
Western wedding!”
He turned abruptly, the smile in his eyes like lit stars. “Okay.”
My thoughts drifted back to the past.
In high school, he was the popular figure. I was the poor student he couldn’t
teach no matter how hard he tried.
In college, we were separated. He took a three-hour flight every week to see
me for three years.
Until I started dating Miles.
When I dragged my suitcase back home, Mom hugged me with red eyes.
“That bastard isn’t worth your sadness.”
Dad sent a message to his business partners: “Anyone who uses Miles for
consulting goes against me.”
I collapsed on the bed, exhausted.
I opened Instagram. Eva had updated.
Center stage was a selfie of her sitting on Miles’ lap, making a peace sign.
I silently liked the post.
Minutes later, Miles called.
“Want to play games? Eva and I will carry you. Just follow us and don’t drag
us down!”
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