Chapter 3

The two of them clung to each other and wept.

Corey handed her a bouquet of white camellias, the ones Marlene had just cut.

I started planting them our very first year of marriage.

I read up on it, asked flower growers, taught myself how to balance the acidity of the soil.

In summer, with all the mosquitoes, I'd crouch in the flowerbeds for an hour or two at a stretch, my arms covered in bites.

In winter I was afraid of frost, so I'd drag myself up in the middle of the night to wrap them in insulating cloth, my fingers red raw from the cold.

Only now did I understand. Every time he stared blankly at those flowers, it wasn't affection.

He was remembering someone he'd lost.

"You still remember..."

Rita's face softened, and then she turned and saw the wedding photo on the wall, and her expression stiffened.

"You got married?"

Corey's eyes darted away, and it slipped out before he could stop it.

"I was getting on in years. Just getting by with someone, that's all."

I bit down on my lip, my nails digging into my palm.

When he proposed, he'd gone down on one knee, and in his eyes was a seriousness I'd never seen from him before.

"Ever since you came into my life, everything finally has color. Mercedes, marry me. I'll spend the rest of my life being good to you."

Now that she was back, I'd become someone he was just "getting by" with.

She lowered her head.

"The truth is, back when I was diagnosed with leukemia, I never wanted to be a burden to you. And it just so happened that my gambler father sold me off to a wealthy man overseas, so I took the chance to fake my death and leave the country."

"Thankfully that man was very kind. He got me treated and cured. But then he died suddenly, and his family, wanting the inheritance, threw me out."

"I worked odd jobs all over abroad, until I saw that article and realized you still remembered me."

"So I spent the last of my money on a plane ticket home."

She took a step back and forced a faint curve to her lips. "I came thinking I'd ask if you'd take me in. I don't have a cent, and there's nowhere else for me to go..."

"I was too forward. I shouldn't have come. I'll leave now."

She turned, and Corey caught her by the arm.

"She's away on a business trip. You just settle in and stay here these next few days, don't worry."

At last I understood what Marlene had meant.

For that one sliver of a chance, he'd cleared a place for her ahead of time, and cold-heartedly hidden me, with my claustrophobia, down in the basement.

Right now, his voice was gentle beyond measure. "You must be starving. Eat first."

Dish after dish came to the table.

Braised abalone and sea cucumber, a slow-braised gourmet stew, cheese-baked king crab legs.

A private-chef dinner that ran three thousand eight hundred a head, and he didn't so much as blink.

Six months ago I'd wanted to buy a bottle of soy sauce that cost fifteen dollars.

I waited two days for the request, only for it to be turned down, the reason being "brand markup's too high, switch to another one."

So I had to submit it again, and it took three more days to be approved.

That nine-ninety-nine soy sauce lasted me two months. Every time I poured it I was careful, terrified of wasting a single drop.

And that stew she polished off in a few mouthfuls would have bought me eighty bottles of soy sauce.

It wasn't that he couldn't bear to spend money. It was just that the person he was willing to be generous with wasn't me.

From the phone, a dog's barking cut through my thoughts.

Mochi had woken up, and seeing a stranger like Rita, was barking wildly, circling her.

She jumped, and kicked out hard at him.

Watching him go flying, I gripped the phone tight, my breathing turning heavy.

Before there was ever a baby in my belly, I'd raised Mochi like a child. When had he ever been treated so roughly.

But she only looked at Corey, all innocence. "I'm afraid of dogs."

His eyes flickered. "Didn't you used to love them?"

"A dog chased me while I was living rough overseas, so I got scared of them."

Something pained crossed his eyes, and he bent down to carry Mochi out.

Rita clutched at his sleeve, her voice soft and coaxing.

"He just frightened me. Why not stew him into dog meat and eat him instead."

Corey stopped short and looked at her, startled and uncertain.

She lowered her head. "Is that too cruel? Back overseas, every time I was too weak after chemo, he'd stew dog meat to build up my blood."

"Those days were so hard to get through. That one bit of meat was the only thing that made me feel I was still alive..."

Corey's eyes reddened. "Don't be upset. If you want to eat it, then eat it. It's nothing to make a fuss over."

The phone slipped from my hand and hit the floor.