“Then what do you have, that no one else does?”

He continues to rub his thumb in gentle circles around your cheek.  Your hand travels up instinctively to wrap around his.  Your soft fingers intertwine easily with his rough digits, pieces of a puzzle that were strangely made to fit together.

He’s quiet for a very long time, and you assume that he’s too tired to answer.  But then he whispers ever so quietly, “You.  I have you.”

You press your lips together, guiltily. 

After running out in the middle of class and nearly a mile from the academy to get to Tao’s apartment building, you dashed up five flights of stairs because you thought using the elevator would take too long.  Then you stood outside the door to his apartment, wondering if you should knock or wait until he comes out on his own.  You finally see his face after he opens the door, only to find out that he’s even more miserable than before. 

                Lying here, in his arms, you feel guilty for being broken-hearted, because repentance isn’t something you deserve.  You’ve been perching on a ledge between disobeying your grandfather and refusing to acknowledge the feelings of one of your closest friends.  And now, you watch the love of your life slowly break down. 

                And your worst fault?  Deceiving yourself. 

Fooling yourself into thinking that falling in love would fix everything.  You thought that loving someone meant everything would fall into place.  Every problem would solve itself because two people felt the same way for a small moment in time.  You thought happiness would be easy because you liked someone, who happened to like you back.  But you only made the people you depend on the most, suffer.

All these things come from you.

“Didn’t you say you had something to tell me?” he asks.

“I did.  Do you want to hear it?”

He nods groggily.  “Yes.”

“I love you.”

“That’s it?”

“No.  I love you. Very much.”

“And this is the part where I have to say I love you, too, right?” Tao chuckles softly.  “So we should be like this forever?” 

You stare at him.  His russet irises are glowing with the mysterious gaze so familiar to you.  His lips are as soft as you remember.  His complexion is hard to make out under the candlelight, but perfect to you in every way.  You want to engrave his features in your mind.

He lifts your chin to kiss you, and you close your eyes.  

They sting like you’ve been crying for a very long time. 

* * *

                “I called you, thinking you would ignore me altogether after our first meeting.  But you agreed to come see me.  So, thank you.”

                Zi Yun straightens out the knit scarf wrapped around her neck.                “Go on.”

                You cross your legs underneath the table.  “I want to talk to you about two things.”

                “Let me guess. At least one of those things will be about Tao.”

                She pronounces his name with a terse tone on her tongue, as if Tao were some demeaning creature in her eyes. Her nature aggravates you, but you came here to negotiate, not to argue.  So you don’t criticize.  Pursing your lips you nod casually. 

“Correct.”

                Zi Yun scoffs.  “So you called me here not because you want to see me,” she says.  “But because you want to lecture me.  About my brother.”

                “Your brother,” you say through gritted teeth, “is dying.  Emotionally.”

There are people who are careful with their words.  Then there are those who are not.

“And?”

“And…it’s because of me,” you confess with a small nod.  “I didn’t want things to turn out this way.  But they did.  Tao is a mess, I’m a mess.  He doesn’t know what he’s doing.  And I thought I was helping him but I’m hurting him more every second we’re together.  If you had a heart, Zi Yun, you would help me fix this.”

                “Why would I do that?” she counters.  “He’s not someone I’ve worried about before.  I’ve known him for twenty minutes, not twenty years.  You know it’s useless to ask for help from me when you know I won’t give it to you.”

                You bite the inside of your cheek and sigh heavily. 

“I want to say that it’s a good thing that you haven’t known him for long.  He needs to be with someone who has a clean history.  To let him begin again.  Without me, all he has is you.”

“Without you?  You mean I have to take the obligation for him?”  Zi Yun crosses her arms as she speaks.  “Now that you’re done with him, you hand him to his sister.  Is that it?”

“You didn’t see the way his eyes lit up when we opened that old box in his apartment.  You didn’t hear his anxious breaths when we sat to wait for you in that café.  I don’t want you to look at Tao as a responsibility that we can toss back and forth.  He’s as human as we are.  He has a conscience, a mind, a soul, and a heart that’s been broken too many times.  He deserves a fresh start.  Help me, Zi Yun.  I’m begging you.”

“You wouldn’t rather help him yourself, but let him depend on someone who knows nothing nor cares about him at all.  Because?”

“Because I know that it’s better this way,” you reply defiantly.  “I’m nothing but a burden to him.”

You pause to catch your breath.  Zi Yun observes you intently as you swallow anxiously.

“I thought you liked him.”

You lower your eyes and half-smile, half-grimace.  “So did I.”

Zi Yun breathes in and demands, “The second thing you wanted to tell me?”

You reach for your bag under the table, pulling out two objects.  The first, your music book.  The second is Tao’s photograph of the day he said he had applied for the academy.  You remember when Tao decided to tell you everything, letting you rummage through his photographs and papers.  It seems like so long ago and now you’ve kept his picture, even if it hurts to look at it. 

You place everything on the table. Tao’s stern expression continues to stare at you from the photograph. 

“My second objective today,” you begin.  “These are the last few things keeping me rooted to this cruel world.”  You push them slowly towards Zi Yun.  “You can do what you want with them.”

She fixes her gaze on the items for a split second, only to furrow her brows and glare at you again.

“Why are you giving these to me?”

“If it’s Tao’s sister, I know she’ll do what’s right for him.”

Zi Yun smirks deridingly.  “I’m not giving them to him.”

You nod your head.  “You can do what you like.”

You pick up your belongings and stand up, feeling lighter now, like you’ve finally emptied one of your deepest worries from your mind.  You pray that you will be strong enough to make it out the door and continue without the urge to turn back.

You feel her enigmatic eyes piercing through you for the last time.

“Huang Zi Yun.  I hope I’m thanking the right person.”  You sigh.  “Goodbye.”

You catch her gazing solemnly at the objects on the table now, silently.  Your palms are moist as you push back from your chair and step around the table toward the door. 

You’ve done it.  Everything is over.  You’ve decided to leave behind your fantasies, a naïve love story, pieces of the time you’ve spent thinking you were happy—but you’re positive of what’s ahead. Things will be easier now. 

You only brush past Zi Yun for a moment, but it’s enough to hear her last words.

She doesn’t look at you as you go, but instead mutters a “Goodbye,” under her breath when she thinks your trembling legs have already led you out of the café.