The entire ordeal set something in my gut on edge for the rest of the day, but I tried to keep a calm facade on for Bella.
"Thank you so much!" She gushed once we were away from the market, leaning forward to grasp my arm.
Her fingers were feather-light, sending a comforting heat in my stiff limbs. If I paused and inhaled, I could catch whiffs of a foreign scent. It was warm, almost reminding me of a cozy bakery in cold-winter days. She must've caught my questioning appearance, because she giggled and batted my shoulder playfully.
"Try to make your sniffing a little less subtle, would you?" She teased, falling back into our familiar pattern of banter. "I'm wearing perfume. It's called Italian Delight."
Perfume. That was only something the wealthiest of women could afford nowadays. Here she was, movie-star gorgeous and grace waltzing in our town of ruin. It made my mind whirl.
"It's nice." I managed to get out, my mind a barrage of thoughts. I smiled to show my genuinity.
"Thanks." She replied simply, and I realized she hadn't let go of my arm.
It was rather nice, her standing and walking next to me. The rhythm of our footsteps matched, and we were like little soldiers marching together.
"Where are you going?" I asked suddenly, realizing that I was being led by her path forward.
"Oh, just a park. It's beautiful there." Bella murmured, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
In that moment, it was just the two of us, footsteps in sync. With no one else around, it felt like she had been by my side for my entire life; something about this simply felt…right. Flashes of my wife passed through my head, but with a newfound sense of determination, I pushed them away. I was tired of the stress in my life, I was tired of worrying, I was…tired of my life of poverty. I should just enjoy this rare moment of quiet happiness as it was.
The sun shone majestic golden rays, breaking through the winter gloom and grey. The trees, although bare, had nestles of color; bluebirds and cardinals that were taking advantage of the sunlight, and the air was clearer than I ever remembered. It was the picture-perfect portrait of solace. Peace. Just Bella and I.
After an hour of simply walking around with her, I found myself more content than I've been in quite a while. It was merely small talk, with Bella asking me about my life here and my job, but it was a simple kind of pleasure. No one had ever taken much interest in my life before, and it instilled a sense of something akin to pride when I got the opportunity to talk about my failed endeavors in math. What once brought me shame brought a flush of happiness when Bella praised my talents, saying she had never met anyone quite as smart as I was. There was a tinge of genuinity in her voice, an inside joke shared between the two of us.
She held the loaf of bread in her arms like something precious, something I found quite amusing.
"Does the bread really mean that much to you?" I asked her jovially, gesturing to the bread, which she held carefully underneath her arm.
"Well, you were the one who got it for me." Bella returned, a soft affection in her face. "Thank you."
"No problem." I answered, just as quiet before the memories of the market returned to me. The man in the suit. All of which seemed like baseless paranoia. "I thought I was losing it at the market, though."
Although it was said in jest, Bella's face immediately morphed into one of concern and worry.
"Really? How so?" She asked, almost demandingly. Her pace slowed to a stop as she turned to look at me.
"Woah." I exclaimed, putting my hands up to reassure her. "I was just joking. There was just someone that I never saw before."
Bella seemed even more worried at that, her hands tightening on my sleeve.
"Who? What did he look like?" She whispered, voice firm. Her eyes were widening with every passing second, and I could see her gaze go far away, as if she was thinking.
"Uh…" Her anxiety was already rubbing off of me, and I struggled to remember. "Tall. He was wearing a suit. I couldn't really see his face but he had…somewhat short hair?"
Completely out of the blue, Bella swore under her breath, dropping her hands from my side. She backed away, beginning to pace back and forth.
"Why didn't you say anything?" She almost yelled, not looking me in the eye. Her voice was rising, and I was beginning to suspect that there was something more to the picture than I knew.
"I…didn't think it was important? Why? Should I know about him?" I asked, my own sense of panic rising. Why did Bella seem so affected? Did she know who he was? Was he a danger?
At that, Bella immediately stilled. Her face froze, almost comically, as if a statue. Seconds ticked by, with none of us saying anything.
With rigid, jerky movements, Bella smoothed out her clothes and exhaled. It was shaky, a little hesitant.
"No. You're right. He doesn't matter. I was just…I'm on edge today, sorry." Words slurring, she quickly offered a mix of excuses and apologies.
I was more confused than ever, but something told me that even if I asked, Bella wouldn't say anything to me.
"What?" I tried anyway, "what do you mean?"
"Nothing." Bella bites out, as short as a fuse. She pauses, trying to collect her thoughts. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."
Just as I expected. I couldn't help the wave of disappointment that I feel, as if she doesn't trust me. I remind myself I've only known her very briefly, even if it felt like a lifetime.
"I…I have to go now." Bella states quickly, shaking her head subconsciously as she already begins to walk away. She turns back to look at me.
"I'm sorry Taihan. I know you're confused right now. I promise you, it'll make sense later. Just…let me handle it. I promise. Trust me, 'kay?" She asks, with the same plantitive, innocent, and imploring look. The one I couldn't refuse.
I could already feel the tension leaving my shoulders, against my will.
"Okay." I agreed.
I was left, alone, in the middle of the park. The only thing I had left of Bella was the dirt kicked up from her rapid exit.
Having nothing else to do, I walked back to the city plaza. Aimlessly, I wandered the streets, watching the passersby mingle and rush off to wherever. At this time, I would still be at work, sorting garments and textiles. It felt strange, this absence of a task.
It wasn't until I got to the crossing by the laundromat, the one that was a cover-up for underground operations, that I ran into Yuan Yun, about to cross the street. In his hands were more magazines, racy ones, from the way he immediately tucked his hands behind his back the moment he saw me. He always tried to defend himself, saying that every man had his own guilty hobbies. However, I think that was just an excuse for his inability to have a girlfriend, much less a wife.
"Taihan! Fancy seeing you here!" Yuan Yun greets smoothly, as if I couldn't see the way he attempted to subtly shove his goods in a plastic bag.
"Yuan Yun." I nodded, having the dignity to not call him out.
"What are you doing here, don't you have work?" Yuan Yun asked, tilting his head in confusion.
I didn't tell any of my friends about my firing, although I bet some of them, like Wei Feng, already knew. Wei Feng was always a sneaky little dog, one who snuck his nose into business that wasn't his. I always thought he was quite womanly, from the way he loved to engage in gossip, and also his rather petite height.
"It's just my day off. Wandering around." I lied, trying my best to seem casual.
Either I was a great liar, or Yuan Yun was rather gullible, for he bought my cover-up easily. Lazy bum, barely had to work a day in his life.
"Ah…well then. Taihan, Ha Zhu and I did have something we wanted to bring up to you." He started, looking from side to side as if he was worried someone was listening in.
This piqued my interest. What could those two possibly have to say to me, other than bemoaning the most recent girl that they scared away?
"What is it?" I responded, raising an eyebrow.
"It's about Qianqian." Yuan Yun rushed out, as if forcing a confession. He seemed very enraptured by the cracks on the pavement below us.
"Hm?" I stiffened again, fearing the worst. Did she realize? It was impossible for her to know about Bella, I comforted myself, telling myself it was just my mind being overly active.
"I heard that she was wandering around Em Ai Ti Street."
What? Em Ai Ti street was the notorious red light district of our city, ones that even Yi Shaan avoided. There were always rumors of something illegal happening over there, the alleyways ran by drug lords and brothels so powerful that even the police officers were wary enough to avoid them. It was a careful unspoken neutrality– they wouldn't make a scene or disturb the city too much, and the police officers would look the other way.
Qianqian never went out unless absolutely necessary. She had long grown self-conscious about her appearance, and I remember having to spend hours convincing her to go out with me before she would even reluctantly agree. There was absolutely no way she would be going to Em Ai Ti street out of all places.
"Come on, you have to come up with a better rumor than that. Don't speak about her like that." I rebuked Yuan Yun with more harshness than I intended. Qianqian didn't deserve the association of that place.
"It's not a rumor, I swear!" Yuan Yun protested, shaking his head vigorously. "Ha Zhu said his friends said that too, and not only that…he said she was there, walking with a man."
This made me pause. Qianqian, with another guy? What kind of absurd statement was this?
Qianqian used to be rather extroverted back when we were younger, but life had been cruel on her too. I would watch, helplessly, as her fiery spirit slowly withered to embers, instead forming a quiet kind of steel. Nowadays, I could count the number of friends she had on one hand, and I couldn't remember the last time I saw her talk to someone that we hadn't known for years.
"Hey. Don't shoot the messenger." Yuan Yun coughed, noticing my darkening expression. "That's just what we heard. We can dig around, if you'd like."
I sighed. I didn't believe this at all, and I don't know how much I liked the idea of Ha Zhu and Yuan Yun digging their grubby fingers anywhere near my wife.
"Don't. I'll try to find a way to ask her or something." I offered, already feeling a headache form as I had to come up with a way to bring it up.
How does one ask if their wife would go to the red light district in their city?
The light turned green, and I decided to part ways with Yuan Yun. The last thing I wanted nearby while I pondered about how to approach this situation was him.
Hours passed, and I decided I would merely ask what she did today. My footsteps traced the familiar way back home, and suddenly, a new tiredness tugged at my bones. I truly was getting old.
When I stepped through the door that evening, the house smelled faintly of rice. The scent curled through the air, mingling with the aroma of something warm and savory simmering on the stove. The candle on the table flickered in the dim light, its flame swaying gently in the breeze filtering through the open window.
Qianqian sat by the oil lamp, a bundle of fabric draped across her lap, needle and thread in hand. She was sewing, her hands working methodically, guiding the needle through the cloth with an ease that came from years of practice. Her expression was peaceful, the corners of her lips curved just slightly, her focus trained on the delicate stitches. She didn't look up right away when I entered.
"You're home," she said after a moment, her voice carrying that familiar warmth, the one that had soothed me through long nights of worry, through hunger and uncertainty. "Dinner's in the pot. It's still hot."
She looked so tranquil, the dim glow of the candle casting a familiar yellow hue. How much time did I spend, so many times, just admiring the peacefulness of it all? I once knew her face like I knew the back of my hand, all the curves and slopes, the slant of her cheeks to the corners of her eyes. Now, although everything remained the same, I find that the crescent-moon of her smile has become unrecognizable, the glow of her eyes resembling that of a stranger.
My fingers twitched at my side. I forced my lips into a thin, tired smile, stepping forward and setting my bag down on the table with more force than necessary.
"Did you go out today?" I asked, keeping my tone casual.
Qianqian didn't flinch, didn't even pause in her stitching. Her fingers remained steady, her needle moving in and out of the fabric like clockwork. She glanced up at me, her dark eyes holding nothing but mild curiosity.
"No," she answered smoothly. "I was here all day. Just sewing."
Before I could say anything, she continued, finally setting her needles down.
"What about you, darling? How was your day out? Did you have fun?"
It was an innocuous question, one that had no hint of malice or suspicion. Still, I felt a pang of worry, remembering the now-heavy weight of Bella's hand on my arm. It burned, like the brand of a hot iron against my skin.
"Yep. I went to the park and took a stroll." It was the truth, and yet something about it felt terribly dishonest.
"That's good." Qianqian agreed amicably. "It's nice to see you relaxing for once."
I watched her hands, at the way the thread pulled taut between her fingers, at how her thumb smoothed over the fabric absentmindedly. The candlelight flickered against her face, casting delicate shadows that danced across her skin. Her voice had been steady, her expression placid, but something about the way she said it – how effortlessly the words left her lips – felt too easy.
"It was a good day." I responded, before sighing. It felt as if I was walking on a tightrope. "Did you stay home the whole day?"
I tried to keep my questioning subtle, making sure my face was one of worry and curiosity instead of one of searching.
She nodded, this time holding up the fabric to inspect her stitches. "Mm. I lost track of time. I wanted to finish this before you got home." She finally looked at me again, tilting her head slightly. "Why?"
I hesitated.
The words sat heavy on my tongue. Because they saw you.Because they said you were with another man.Because I want to believe them less than I want to believe you.
But how could I ask her? How could I say those words when I had spent my morning in the park with Bella? When I had sat on a bench beside her, listening to her voice, watching the way the dappled sunlight caught in her hair? I had walked with her, lingered in her presence, and when I came home, I had carried that secret with me like a weight strapped to my chest?
Suddenly, the egregious absurdity of the situation hit me, weaving between my ribs like a cold serpent that settled between my stomach. What kind of person was I, accusing my wife of cheating on me? My wife, who had never done a single thing to hurt me, stayed at home and assumed the task of housewife, despite how I knew that she too, like me, had dreams?
She was the brightest flame I had seen, so many years ago. Her dreams were grand, so much like mine, that I fell in love with them. She never wanted to stay in this place, I knew that even if I told myself it was different. She was smart, more smart than anyone else ever knew. I had no doubt that she would have thrived in a place like America or England, just as I had once wished to.
No matter how far away that dream was for me, it was even more distant for her. A woman, an unmarried woman whose only post-high school education came from the college textbooks she would buy at second-rate and read with me. She too, quickly realized how hopeless they were.
Deep down, I knew that was why she agreed to marry me. Even if I saw the way her eyes would flash to the window, the world out there, that was so much bigger than the both of us. She longed for something better too, just as I was, but she was always better at swallowing her pain, swallowing her want.
If I confronted Qianqian now, what would that make me? I was probably just projecting my own paranoia on her, on a woman who deserved so much more than what I could possibly ever give her.
So I exhaled slowly, forcing a chuckle, as if the thought barely mattered. "Just wondering," I murmured, rubbing the back of my neck. "You never go out anymore, you should."
Qianqian's lips curved slightly, a small, knowing smile. She set the sewing aside and leaned forward, her fingers brushing lightly against my wrist.
"Thanks for your concern." She huffs wryly, shaking her head. "You know me, I'm not a fan of that kind of stuff."
Her fingers lingered against my shoulder, warm against my skin, and for a second, guilt surged so violently through my chest that I had to fight the urge to pull away.
"That's true." I said instead, my voice quieter now.
She studied me for a moment, as if searching for something in my face. And then, with a soft sigh, she pulled her hand away and stood, brushing off her lap.
"Come eat before it gets cold," she said, motioning toward the kitchen.
I watched her retreat, her figure illuminated briefly by the glow of the lamp, her shadow stretching long against the wooden floor.
And yet, for the first time, as I stood there in the dim candlelight, I realized we have both become two different people. Our paths diverged, once, so closely that I once thought there was no other person destined for me as her. Two dreamers, finding each other.
Now, I wondered if we knew each other at all.