When His Last Words Didn’t Name Me, I Stopped Trying to Be His Only One

04

04

In that moment, my mother straightened her back at once. "I want you to apologize to Jude!"

Jude's gaze settled on me, a smile in his voice. "Mom, Delia and I are about to get married. Who talks about apologies at a time like this?"

"You just behave yourself and don't make a scene, and we'll let the whole thing go."

I stared at him and at Ella behind him, that smug look on her face, and for one moment I wanted to tear off their masks and let everything spill out.

But I knew, deep down, that even if my mother learned the truth it would change nothing.

She didn't care. To her, as long as I got married off, it didn't matter what kind of person he was or how old he was, as long as he was a man.

As long as I got married off, so no one could say she was a failure of a mother.

I stared at Jude and, out of nowhere, gave a small smile.

He froze for a second, but before he could recover I spoke first. "Fine. I won't make a scene."

Jude was startled, and finally let out a soft sigh.

"Good. Tomorrow I'll take you to buy jewelry. You pick it out yourself. Anything you like, I'll get it for you."

This time, at last, he wasn't giving me some small trinket, and at last he was letting me choose.

But now there wasn't a single thing I wanted.

The whole group of them left.

The office fell into an eerie silence. An hour after I got back to my desk, I opened my phone.

My mother's account, always blank, had a new post.

She never shared anything. Back when I offered to teach her, she'd say in that sour tone, "I'm old, I can't learn all this stuff you young people do."

Yet today that photo and that post sat right there in front of me, plain as day.

In the picture, Ella had her arm looped through my mother's, who was all doting smiles, the two of them seated in front of a bubbling pot of red hot-pot broth, with a tender-faced Jude across from them.

"Such a good daughter. For one day, I got to be a happy mother."

The comments from neighbors I knew were all the same effusive praise.

"Oh my, Auntie Chen is so blessed! Your daughter and son-in-law make such a lovely match."

"When's the wedding? Save us a seat for the toast."

At the very bottom, my mother had carefully replied thank you to each and every one.

But her stomach was bad. She couldn't take the slightest bit of spice.

Once, I was cooking at home. Six of the seven dishes were mild, one was spicy.

She turned on me instantly, jabbing a finger in my face, cursing me out.

After that, I, who couldn't live without spicy food, never once ate a spicy dish in front of her again.

I looked and looked, and in the end I blocked her contact and walked up to my boss's office.

"Rebecca, I'd like to apply for an overseas posting."

She glanced at me, surprised, then nodded her agreement.

The project was urgent. The flight was booked for the very next day.

At the airport, Jude suddenly called me, a trace of lazy ease in his voice.

"Tonight I made a point of setting up dinner with your mom and Ella. I'm taking you to formally apologize to them."

"Remember to leave work early and save the seats."

The boarding announcement sounded again. I walked slowly toward the gate, my voice calm and even.

"No need, Jude. We're never seeing each other again."

The line went silent, and then his voice came, furious. "Delia James, where are you right now??"