My chest cracked open at her question. “Mom, you were an immigrant who didn’t know she was about to lose all of her hearing when you moved to this country. You were an exceptional mother. Do you hear me? You raised me right. You made sure I got good grades and stayed on task, and you made my favorite meal every week. I loved—I still love you so much. Even nine years of silence can’t change that.”
My mom shook her head miserably. “But I made you think you weren’t beautiful. I watched all the YouTube videos, you know. I saw girls just like you talking about how much they hated their mothers because of how bad they made them feel. Just like I did with you. The truth is, I knew it was too much when I was doing it. Your dad said I needed to stop, but I couldn’t figure out how. Why couldn’t I make myself stop? I was so afraid for you. All I could do was criticize you. But you’re beautiful, Dawn. I don’t care how fat you are. You’re my fat, beautiful daughter.
Okay, now I was tearing up too. I gave up on talking and drew her into my arms. Not just because I never realized how much I needed to hear her say that, but also because I was crying now. And that wouldn’t exactly sell my “everything’s going to be okay, you’re definitely not going to die” argument.
We sniffled together for a few moments, and when we drew apart, we found Victor once again standing on the other side of my mother’s hospital bed.
“Do not cry. Everything will be OK,” he told her. The look on his face was both tender and stern. “I promise you.”
His words made my mother smile. Authentically, not falsely as she had for Byron.
“OK, Dawn’s Husband,” she said to Victor. “If you say everything is going to be OK, then I believe you. I’ll wake up from the surgery, and that handsome gay doctor will say, no more cancer for you! Then after that, I will set him up with Byron, and there will be nothing either of them can do about it.”
My mother actually rubbed her hands together with gleeful anticipation.
We all laughed, but I don’t think it was a joke. Victor had that way about him. If he said something was true, people believed him. Even my scared mom.
Attendants came to wheel her into surgery a few minutes later. And suddenly, the space between Victor and me was empty.
For the first time in fifteen years, I closed the distance between us, and I took him by the hand. I didn’t mean to do it. I think I was just upset. Not to mention weirdly grateful for all he’d done for us today.
He stilled at my touch, his entire body stiffening beside me.
“We can go back to hating each other tomorrow,” I whispered. “But right now, I need your strength.”
He stood there frozen, and I wondered if he’d pull away.
But no, in the end, he squeezed my hand. Holding it tight until my mom had disappeared from sight.
Only then did he let me go.
As it turned out, Victor was right. The news came down a few hours later. Mom made it through surgery. They still had to send some tissue samples in for further testing, and she’d need to do some chemo to be sure. But Dr. Kim was “fairly confident” that he had gotten it all.
Cue more tears when my mother woke up, and we got to tell her the news.
“You’re magic,” she insisted to Victor. “The next time I need luck, I’m going to fly to you in Rhode Island and rub the top of your head!”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that Victor didn’t live in Rhode Island, and I guess Victor didn’t either. He didn’t correct her.
That wasn’t the last surprise he had in store for us.
Someone from the Audiology appeared with a knock on the door a couple of hours after mom woke up. “Is now a good time for your consultation?”
“What consultation?” Mom and I both asked at the same time.
That was how we found out that Victor had arranged for her to be fitted with a waterproof processing unit for her implant.
It had taken months of appointments to get my mother and brother outfitted with their first implants back in the aughts. But my mom’s was done by the time the nurses came through with mom’s first post-surgery meal.
Victor. This was all Victor.
My entire chest tightened with confusion as I stared at him. When did my monster morph into a prince?
And why.
23
VICTOR
“You’re the Chinese boy, aren’t you?”
Victor jolted in his seat when Gyeong asked him this question. Her daughter had just gone downstairs to the cafeteria to get food for them. It would be the first meal they’d eaten all day. Dawn had been too nervous to consume anything while her mother was in surgery.
Gyeong had lain down and closed her eyes after she finished eating, and he had thought she might be asleep. But no. Victor wondered if she’d been waiting all these hours for a moment alone with him so that she could ask him this question.
She mistook his hesitation to answer for confusion.
“The Chinese boy,” she reiterated. “The one Dawn was secretly dating in high school?”
How much did Gyeong know about her husband’s job? He had assumed wrong once before with Dawn. Nonetheless, he answered, “Yes, I’m the Chinese boy.”
“I thought so,” Gyeong answered with a tired smile. “I still remember the day that phone you gave her arrived. Dawn was so surprised. And all I could think was, ‘this Chinese boy likes her. He likes her very much, and she doesn’t realize it.’ I think my husband thought that too. That’s why he didn’t want her tutoring you after the winter break. I should’ve known it was you she was sneaking around with before that night she came home late. She was so upset when her father forbade her from seeing you again. But it doesn’t matter now, I suppose. You found her.”
Victor stared at Gyeong, who apparently knew nothing of what had happened between him and Dawn after her supposed fight with her father. Yes, he had found her again. But ten years later, he was still at war with himself about their reunion.
“Is that why you two married in secret?” Gyeong asked. “Because you were afraid of our disapproval?”
“No,” he answered honestly. “It is a lot more complicated than that.”
Gyeong clamped her lips the same as Dawn so often did when she was conflicted. “I thought so. You remind me much of my husband. Quiet and angry for some reason, with big secrets you can never tell. You should give Dawn some children. Someone to keep her company when you can’t. That’s what my husband did, and it worked for a long time.”
The thought of children with Dawn twisted his stomach and stabbed at his heart. He hadn’t thought of them when he was eighteen and stupid. But now…
You still can’t think of them, he reminded himself. At least not with Dawn.
Four months. No matter what illusion they were putting on for Dawn’s mother, the fact remained that after May 25th, their deal would dissolve.
“Dawn would make a great mother. Much better than me,” Gyeong said. Her tone was thoughtful, as if she were just now realizing this herself. “Now that I am through my surgery, I probably will never tell her this, but I’m proud of her. I never would have stood up for myself like she did. The only defiant thing I ever did was run away from home to be with a black American soldier boy I met at my family’s farm-stand. And even then, my parents forgave me when we brought them to America and set them up with the dry-cleaning shop. They died right before we left for Japan. Liver cancer for my father too. And my mother just gave up. I don’t think she could bear living in America without him. How about your parents? Are they still alive? What do they think of Dawn?”
He hesitated, then decided to answer truthfully, “They’re both dead. My mother passed away when I was young, and my father died a few months after your family left Japan.”
Gyeong made a tutting sound. “Dawn said you were her same age. So you were so young! Eighteen! Just a baby still, and there you were, with both your parents gone.”
A strange sorrow gathered in his chest at her words…along with a n
ew guilt. Yes, they had been young back then. Easily manipulated. Not only by their parents but also by each other. Had he been punishing Dawn all this time for something he might’ve done if his father had put him in the same position?
“You know, I liked art too when I was a girl,” Dawn’s mother said. “I was always getting in trouble for drawing on walls and counters. Blank paper wasn’t as easy to access for me back then as it is now, you see. I thought my artwork was beautiful. But my mother beat me every time she found one of my drawings, and that made me stop. Dawn was smart. She kept her art on paper. But I was still so scared for her future…”
She looked into the past Victor couldn’t see as she spoke and signed, but then she came back to the present to say, “Byron told me that she got a job in Pittsburgh. They liked her thesis project so much, they said she could come work for them as soon as she was done with grad school.”
Every cell in Victor’s body stilled. What? She already had a job lined up? When had this happened?
“I never imagined her getting paid for art the first time she got to that school of hers,” Gyeong said. “But she did it. I’m so proud of her. You know, maybe I will tell her that when she gets back.”
She smiled toothily at Victor. “If you have children with her, maybe you could be as proud of them someday as I am of her.”
Something cracked in Victor’s chest. Something that made it feel as if his heart would spill out if he allowed her to continue with the subject.
So he decided to introduce a much colder topic.
“I’ve made you a reservation for when you are discharged from the hospital. At the East Winds Center. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”
Gyeong stilled. “Yes, that’s where all the country singers go. And the news anchor on Channel 5 after he got into that car accident. It’s very expensive.”
“There is a spot waiting for you, all expenses paid. And a shuttle will take you to all of your chemo appointments.”
Gyeong was very quiet for a long time. And when she spoke, her voice seemed weaker than before. “This place… it’s too expensive for me. I don’t deserve it.”
Victor merely signed back, “Thank you for the hot pot.”
Gyeong went quiet for a long time. Then she tentatively asked, “If I go to this place, do we have to tell Dawn or Byron?”
He owed this woman nothing. She was the wife of the man who had ruined his life. Yet he found himself immediately signing back, “No, we don’t have to tell them.”
Her mother teared up. But she nodded. “Okay, then I’ll go.”
She let out a watery laugh, “I had a feeling it was bad when they told me I might have liver cancer, and I went straight home to pour myself a drink.”
“If you’re scared of being alone, I can fly you to a place in Rhode Island,” he offered. “There are facilities like East Winds in every state.”
Her mother shook her head. “No, I was just scared before. Darrell will be back. He always comes back. And I want to be here when he does, no matter what I said the last time we—”
Her phone lit up on the bedside table, interrupting whatever she was about to say next.
Gyeong picked it up, and her eyes widened when she read the text. “He got my messages. And he’s coming now. He says he’ll be here in less than fifteen minutes!”
She raised her gaze back to Victor, her expression shrewd and careful. “If your marriage to my daughter is complicated, this might be the time to go to the house and get your things. My husband’s here now, so I won’t be all alone. And I won’t tell him anything. I promise.”
She grinned at Victor with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “I like the idea of finally being the one with the secret.”
Victor did not return Gyeong’s wicked smile.
This was about revenge, he reminded himself. And Dawn’s father was here now. Not embedded deep undercover. Here was the chance to relight that dynamite and throw it at his unsuspecting enemy. Darrell would not be as accepting as his wife. Just the opposite. He’d be horrified when he found out his daughter was back with him. This was the perfect opportunity for Victor to reap what he’d come to Texas to sow.
So now the only question was, would he take it?
24
DAWN
Victor showed up just as I was stepping out of line in the hospital's cafeteria, with a tray filled with food for both of us.
"Let's go," was all he signed before grabbing me by the arm and leading me toward the exit.
"Wait, I just got food. And we haven't eaten since breakfast."
He took the tray from me and dumped it into the nearest trash can without an explanation.
"Hey!"
Without any apology whatsoever, he took me by the arm and all but dragged me out of the cafeteria.
I was alarmed, to say the least. Even more so, when he started walking me in the opposite direction of the elevator bank that would take me back upstairs to my mother.
I stopped, digging in my heels to demand, "What are you doing?"
"We're leaving," he answered. "Your mother has gotten through surgery. She will be fine."
"Maybe. But I'm not leaving here without at least saying—"
I cut off when Victor abruptly stopped us walking and yanked us to the left and into a hallway. It was one of those short corridors that led to a closed accounting office.
"What the hell, Victor?" I asked. "Why are you acting so crazy?"
The answer to that question came not from Victor but in the form of a man storming past the corridor where he'd hidden us. A man I recognized.
It was my father.
He looked angry, which I pretty much knew, meant that he was afraid. It was the same expression he wore when he pulled me out of Victor's Roppongi apartment.
I stopped arguing with Victor and instead went to peek around the corner. I watched my father's back for a few moments before he broke left toward the elevator bank and disappeared.
After he was safely out of sight, Victor and I walked out of the building's front entrance without saying a word.
There was a car idling right outside of the hospital. A large black Suburban, not an Audi. But the driver got out and opened the back door as soon as he saw us. Less than two hours later, we were on a plane headed to Providence.
It was a long, tense plane ride to Texas. Going back was even more awkward. I still couldn't believe we just narrowly missed my dad.
Or that Victor had helped me dip in and out without Dad ever being the wiser.
"I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done for me this weekend," I admitted about halfway through the plane ride.
He was quiet for so long. I wasn't sure if he would acknowledge what I said.
But then he raised his hands to sign back with a stone-cold look, "Don't thank me."
And in that was pretty much all he said to me for the rest of the plane ride.
The night guard was waiting beside the open gate when we pulled up to the house.
He was another old guy like the day guard, and he had never said one word to me. However, he greeted Victor in cheery Cantonese. And I was pretty sure the sudden uptick in his friendliness levels had nothing to do with the quality of his English.
"Well, thanks again," I said to Victor, figuring this was where we parted. "See you on May 25th, I guess."
He didn't answer. Just stared down at me, his expression icy and impassive.
So I guess our dynamic was back to that again. I headed into the house with my backpack, more than ready to be done with this crazy day.
After kicking off my shoes in the front entrance, I went upstairs to the bedroom, where I threw down my backpack. I'd been trying to stick to one of those ridiculously complicated Korean skincare routines for my last semester of school, but not tonight.
I fell straight into bed and deep black sleep. Until my Monday morning alarm went off what felt like only a few seconds later.
Alexa always wanted to act like she didn't h
ear you this early on Monday mornings, so it took me a few yells before I could get it to turn off.
I stumbled into the bathroom, emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted. But I woke right the hell up when I found Victor in there, toweling off from the shower he had just taken.
"What are you still doing here?" I demanded; my voice was squeaky with shock.
He wrapped the towel around his waist before answering, "This is my house. So I decided to enjoy it for a little while."
"For how long?" I demanded.
He shrugged. "As long as I decide."
My Alexa chimed up from the other room, warning me that I only had thirty minutes until I had to be at school. I'd learned to set reminders every ten minutes from the time I was supposed to get up. That was the only way to ensure I didn't go back to sleep or get caught up in a good graphic novel after the alarm went off.
I switched the shower back on. "I have to go. I have to go to school."
"I won't stop you," he answered. But then, after a slight pause, he signed, "This time."
Wow. Threaten much?
But at least he finally left me alone in the bathroom. I got showered and dressed and even managed to throw on some lip gloss and foundation in record time. Victor wasn't in the bedroom when I got out of the shower. After I got downstairs, I hastily scarfed down a microwave breakfast burrito. And I swear I could hear him kicking around in the overhead guest room I sometimes used as an office.
He wasn't bothering me exactly. But his "this time" would definitely hang over my head today. If not for the rest of the semester.
This is why I so didn't need Elizabeth Ann Margaret to approach me right after Monday's seminar. The first part of our main thesis production class took place right before lunch. Jacoby had already split, probably to go suck on his vaporizer outside. And everyone else in the amphitheater where our small grad class met was either pulling out the lunches they'd brought from home or making plans to grab something either on or off-campus during the hour break.
Victor: Her Ruthless Owner: The VICTOR Trilogy Book 2 [50 Loving States, Rhode Island] (Ruthless Triad) Page 16
