Page 93 of From Beijing, With Love

Daniel let out a breath and closed his inbox. He’d reach out to Willem later, when he was back in the city and ready.

With one elephant slain, Daniel braced himself for the other, messier elephant. The elephant that made him feel like he was never fun enough, never spontaneous enough, never good enough. The elephant that had cheated on him, then dumped him on the same day he had a mental health crisis at work.

Yeah, that elephant.

After it all happened, Daniel had done what he did best—run away from his problems. Now, sitting cross-legged in a hotel room on the other side of the world, he was fucking tired of running.

He tapped play on Taylor’s voice note.

“Hey, Dan, it’s me.” Taylor’s voice filled the room with that same baritone and Yorkshire lilt that Daniel had once found sexy. “I guess you haven’t blocked me yet, even though I deserve it. I’m sorry for what happened … The timing was shit. I was confused and it just kinda happened.”

Daniel rolled his eyes at that. Right. It just happened.

“At least that got you on this trip. Hope you’re having fun with Poppy. She’s probably going to have me killed,” Taylor said with a laugh. “I don’t know why I’m even leaving this message. For what it’s worth, glad you went to China. I know it couldn’t have been easy. Proud of you.”

Daniel replayed the message, like a kid poking at a bruise to see if it still hurt. It did, but it was accompanied by something else.

Relief.

The roller coaster that had been his time in China had smoothed down the once-jagged edges of pain while shining a light on it, forcing him to see it for what it was. He and Taylor hadn’t been happy in the way he now knew he could be. There had been something between them that resembled love, but it was built on a foundation of convenience. It was easy when everything lined up and hard when it didn’t.

Taylor wasn’t the great love of Daniel’s life. And Daniel wasn’t his.

Proud of you. Daniel used to cherish those exact words whenever Taylor bestowed them upon him when he “challenged” his boundaries, but now Daniel didn’t care in the least. He might have initially come on this trip because of Taylor, but it had stopped being about him long ago. It wasn’t even entirely about Yang, even though his presence punctuated every step of Daniel’s journey.

At the risk of sounding self-centered, it was about Daniel.

He poured the rest of the cheap wine down the sink, watching as the liquid coated the white porcelain in burgundy. He brushed his teeth and did three and a half steps of his seven-step skin care routine. Setting his phone on “Do Not Disturb” (after blocking Taylor), he went to bed. He needed his rest, because there was tomorrow.

For once, he was looking forward to a day of being a tourist and losing himself in a place he had never been before.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONEYang

Nainai surveyed the three generations below her with a regal smile on her face and a pointed party hat affixed to her neat white hair. It spoke volumes about her patience for her great-grandchildren that she let them put that polka-dotted monstrosity on her head when it wasn’t even technically her birthday.

“The hat looks good on you.” Yang put a piece of fish, carefully deboned, into Nainai’s bowl, followed by a spoonful of ginger and scallion sauce.

“This silly thing?” Nainai huffed, which made him chuckle. He knew she’d absolutely loathe the hat. She was a woman of style, never a hair out of place and never without her imperial jade ring. “And all this?” She gestured to the glass turntable in front of them, covered with elaborately plated foods. “It’s too much. On my real birthday, I just want a simple home-cooked meal.”

Yang had been the one to suggest an early birthday dinner for Nainai, since he wasn’t going to be in Xi’an for her eightieth birthday in October. And as things usually went with his family, it had snowballed into a full-blown four-generation family affair. At least his raucous family was contained in the private dining room of the local restaurant.

“Don’t worry about me.” Nainai waved her hand after Yang refilled her teacup. Turning to Yang’s dad, who had been quiet all dinner, she said, “Get Yangyang some hongshaorou. He can’t reach.”

Yang and his dad were both doing a stellar job of pretending their conversation had never happened, as if that took back the spilled words. Maybe with enough time and pretense, it would really be like nothing had ever happened. Maybe.

“Eat. You are getting too skinny,” Ba said, putting a piece of pork belly into his bowl.

Yang let him, even though the dish was well within his reach. He took a bite with what he hoped passed for a smile. He was keeping the peace. He was doing the right thing, like when he’d left Daniel waiting in the hotel lobby. He’d done that, and he had to live with it. Now he was going to smile and eat the rest of this meal with his family. Tomorrow morning, he’d board the Beijing-bound train and go back to his research. And maybe while on the train, he’d redo the proposal the way Dr. Sun would have wanted.

“Where are your friends?” Mingfu asked with a mouthful of bok choy. “That Chinese girl and the foreigner.”

“Japan,” Yang answered, making a point of not looking at his dad. “And Daniel’s Chinese too.”

“Is he coming back?” Nainai asked. There was something in her voice that made Yang sit up straighter. Had Ba said something to her? Worse yet, had she overheard their conversation?

“No,” Yang said after a pause.

To his relief, she simply nodded and left it at that. The rest of the meal went as it always did—loud, rambunctious, filled with conversations that teetered between too superficial and too personal without warning. The women tended to the little ones while the men drank, then drank some more. When the meal eventually concluded, the aunties and uncles carried the festivities next door to the karaoke lounge. They even managed to drag Yang’s dad into it. Yang promised to join them after he walked Nainai home, a promise he had zero intention of keeping.