The entirety of the following week, I worried. I paced back and forth around the house to the point where Qianqian made a subtle jab, calling me a mother hen. Deep down, flashes of Bella haunted my mind, but I didn't have the heart to tell Qianqian the truth.
I covered her hand with mine, looking up at her warm gaze. I was reminded that she was the closest thing I had to a home, that I had dedicated almost a decade of my life to her now. Surely, if I told her, she would only be more upset.
"Ah. Just worried about jobs." I offered instead, suddenly feeling a strain in my eyes that I had to blink to get away.
She smiled with sympathy, lips curling up as she patted my face gently with the cusp of her palm.
"Don't worry about it. Here." Pausing, she started digging around in her pockets, pulling out a few wads of cash.
I guess I didn't hide the surprise on my face as well as I wished, because she only laughed and shook her head.
"I have my ways." She says mysteriously, before placing the cash in my hands. "Here. You worked hard enough, go out and have fun. You deserve it."
Oh, god. Here I was, sitting down with my wife, hiding the fact that I had met another woman. And here she was, giving me money I didn't deserve.
At that moment, some part of me wanted to get on my knees right then and there, until the dirt and gravel on the kitchen floor pressed into my skin. I wanted to beg for her forgiveness, I wanted to confess my sins like a damned does at the altar to the priest in white, but I couldn't. My tongue sat as heavy as lead in my mouth, confined by the enamel prison of my teeth.
"Thanks." I replied weakly instead, wishing the words didn't come out like choking molasses.
"I have to go out to the laundromat and run a few errands." Qianqian sighs instead, pressing a kiss to my forehead one last time before she turns to leave the kitchen. "I'll probably be back before noon. Go out and have fun." She repeats.
I sat there for a long time after she left, the money still warm in my palm. The silence of the house pressed down on me, heavy and stifling. Her kiss lingered on my forehead like a ghost, and I hated myself for how much I wanted to hold onto it. Still, it was only a phantom. I could grasp at it all I wanted, but I knew it would slip through my fingers like the falling of sand.
Fun. That's what she told me to have. As if she thought I was capable of something so simple.
The money felt foreign in my hands, like it didn't belong to me. And it didn't. It was hers. She probably scraped it together by saving bits of her own needs, trimming corners off her meals, stitching up holes in her clothes instead of replacing them.
And here I was, holding her sacrifices while my mind betrayed her with thoughts of another woman.
The air felt thin, too thin to breathe. I stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor, and grabbed my coat. Maybe if I went out, I could shake the heaviness clinging to me. Maybe the noise of the city would drown out the voices in my head.
I stepped outside, the sky a pale wash of gray. The streets were alive with the usual chaos – vendors shouting, bicycles rattling past, children weaving through the crowd with wild laughter. But it all felt distant, like I was watching it through a fog. Without thinking, I found my feet leading me to the bar again. Half because I was bored, and half because that was the only place in this damn city that held any interest to me.
The bar was dim and smelled of stale cigarettes and spilled liquor. It was quieter tonight, the low hum of voices barely rising over the crackling static of the old radio perched on a shelf behind the counter. I sat at a table in the corner, nursing a glass of cheap baijiu. The warmth of it spread through my chest, numbing the sharp edges of my thoughts, but not dulling them completely.
I shouldn't have been here.
The money Qianqian gave me still sat folded in my pocket, a heavy reminder of my cowardice. She trusted me. She believed in me. And I was spending her hard-earned savings on a drink I didn't deserve, in a place I had no business being.
And then I saw her. Bella.
She appeared in the doorway like a shadow slipping in from the night, her hair a cascade of gold that caught the flickering light of the hanging bulbs. Her dress was a soft lavender, the kind of color that didn't belong in a place like this. She didn't look at home here, but she didn't look lost either.
She saw me almost instantly. Her eyes locked onto mine, and I froze, my breath catching in my throat. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. She smiled – a soft, gentle thing that felt like an invitation – and started toward me.
"Taihan," she said, her voice low and warm. It wrapped around me like a thread, pulling me closer. "I thought I might find you here."
"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice tighter than I intended.
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she slid into the seat across from me, her fingers brushing the rim of my glass as she pushed it aside. "Do you always ask so many questions?" she teased, but there was something strained in her smile.
I didn't know how to reply. Part of me was already entranced, and I felt the affirmation ready on my lips, that I would do anything to help her. Reminders of the last week pressed at the edges of my consciousness, reminding me of how she saved me at one of my lowest points. How she saw me in that wretched state, and still stepped in to help. But, Qianqian's words from the morning appeared too, and I sat there, motionless.
"You came to me," I pointed out, trying to keep my tone even. "I think I have the right to ask."
Bella sighed, leaning back in her chair. Her eyes darted around the room, as if she were checking to see who might be watching. The soft light from the hanging bulbs illuminated her face, catching the edge of a vulnerability I hadn't noticed before. She seemed smaller somehow, like the weight of something unseen was pressing down on her.
"I need your help," she said finally, her voice softer now, almost hesitant.
Her hands fidgeted in her lap, her fingers twisting together as though she were tying invisible knots. For the first time, she looked unsure – vulnerable in a way that made my chest tighten.
"Why?" I blurted out before anything else. Why would Bella Chen ever need someone like me's help? And what in the world could I possibly help her with?
"I need you to come with me," she said, her gaze finally meeting mine. There was something unspoken in her eyes, something that made my stomach twist. "Just for a little while. A walk, that's all."
"A walk?"
"Yes," she said quickly, her voice picking up urgency. "Please. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."
I hesitated, my instincts screaming at me to say no. The last thing I needed was to get tangled in her orbit again. But the way she looked at me – her eyes wide, her voice trembling – I couldn't bring myself to refuse.
"Where?" I asked cautiously, the word dragging itself out of my throat.
She smiled then. "Just to the market. I need to pick up some things."
"The market?" My confusion deepened. "You need me to walk you to the market? Why can't you just go yourself?"
Bella bit her lip, glancing away. For a moment, I thought she wasn't going to answer. The silence stretched between us, heavy and tense. Then she sighed, her shoulders sagging as though she had been carrying a weight too heavy for too long.
"There are... people there," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "People I'd rather not see."
"What people?" I pressed, my voice quieter now.
Her head snapped back to me, her expression sharp. "Does it matter?" she asked, her tone clipped. But the hardness in her voice cracked almost immediately, and she softened. "Just... please, Taihan. I need this. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."
I opened my mouth to ask more, to demand an explanation, but the words caught in my throat. Her desperation was palpable, filling the space between us like a storm cloud. It clung to her like a second skin, and I could feel its weight pressing against me.
"I – "
"Please," she said again, leaning forward, her hand brushing against mine. Her touch was light, barely there, but it sent a jolt through me. "You're the only one I can trust with this."
The word "trust" struck me like a blow. It felt wrong, hearing it from her, when I could barely hold onto the trust of the woman waiting for me at home. But I couldn't say no.
"Alright," I said finally, the word heavy on my tongue.
Bella's face lit up with gratitude, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "Thank you," she said, her voice soft and full of relief. She stood quickly, motioning for me to follow.
I drained the rest of my glass in one swallow, the burn doing little to chase away the unease pooling in my stomach. As I rose to my feet, my legs felt heavy, as if weighted down by the choices I couldn't seem to make.
The walk to the market was tense. Bella walked beside me at first, but as we drew closer, she started to lag slightly, her steps slowing. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her chin tucked low as if she were trying to make herself smaller.
When we reached the edge of the market, she stopped abruptly and turned to face me. "Wait here," she said, her voice firmer now, though it carried a tremor of hesitation.
"Wait? I thought you needed me to go with you."
"I do." She paused, chewing on her lip like she was deliberating something. "But not inside. I just need you to... buy a few things for me."
"What things?" My confusion deepened.
She hesitated, looking away again. "Just... bread," she said finally. "Maybe some rice, and a few vegetables."
"Food? That's it? Bella, what is this?"
"I told you, there are people here I don't want to see," she said sharply, her voice rising slightly before she caught herself. She took a breath, her tone softening. "Please, Taihan. I wouldn't ask if I could do it myself."
I stared at her, trying to piece together her reasoning, but it was like trying to decipher smoke. "Why bread? Why can't you just wait until later?"
Her eyes darted toward the market, her expression tight. "Because I can't. And I don't want to explain. Please, just do this for me."
Her voice cracked on the word "please," and something in me gave way.
"Fine," I said reluctantly. "I'll do it."
Her shoulders sagged with relief, and for the first time, I noticed just how tightly wound she'd been. "Thank you," she whispered
The market was alive with a chaos that was somehow both vibrant and suffocating. Vendors shouted over one another, their voices clashing in a dissonant symphony of prices and praises for their wares. The sharp tang of fish mixed with the earthy aroma of fresh produce, and somewhere, the sweet scent of roasted chestnuts curled through the air. I kept my head down, weaving through the crowded lanes, trying to appear like any other weary shopper.
My hands gripped the coins Qianqian had given me, their edges biting into my palm. I'd already bought the bread – a simple loaf, its crust rough and uneven – and tucked it into the cloth bag slung over my shoulder. But as I moved toward the vegetable stalls, a prickling sensation crawled up the back of my neck.
It felt as though the crowd was watching me. Every laugh, every glance, every murmured conversation seemed to carry a weight that pressed against my skin. I told myself it was paranoia. No one cared about a man like me – a nobody with empty pockets and a fraying coat. But the feeling refused to leave.
I reached the vegetable stall and began picking through the offerings, my fingers trembling slightly as I examined a bunch of wilted greens. The vendor, a wiry man with sun-weathered skin, watched me with a sharpness that made my stomach twist.
"How much for this?" I asked, my voice rasping against my throat.
He eyed me for a moment before naming a price. I handed over the coins quickly, not wanting to linger. As he wrapped the greens in paper and handed them back to me, his gaze lingered, as if he was trying to decide something about me.
"Busy night, huh?" I said, attempting to break the tension.
The vendor didn't respond, just nodded curtly before turning his attention to another customer.
I moved away, clutching the bag tighter. The press of the crowd seemed heavier now, the noise sharper. I tried to focus on the task at hand – rice. I just needed rice, and then I could leave.
But as I turned toward the next stall, I saw him.
He stood near the edge of the market, tall and imposing, a head above most of the crowd. He was dressed in a crisp suit that seemed utterly out of place among the dirt-streaked stalls and shouting vendors. The fabric gleamed under the flickering lamplight, tailored to fit him perfectly, the sharp lines of his jacket making him look more like a statue than a man.
His face was severe – stern and cold, with high cheekbones and a jawline carved from stone. His hair was neatly combed back, not a strand out of place, and his eyes were dark and piercing, scanning the market with an intensity that made my chest tighten.
I stopped in my tracks, the air catching in my lungs. He didn't belong here. Everything about him – his polished shoes, the way he held himself, the faint sneer that tugged at the corner of his mouth – screamed of wealth and power, of a life far removed from the dirt and desperation that clung to this place. In a way, he reminded me of Bella. Luxurious, fancy, polished. He gleamed with the richness and wealth of jade and jewels, instead of being cloaked by the stench of poverty like the rest of us.
I wondered if anyone else noticed him, but the crowd surged around him without hesitation, the way water moves around a rock. He stood perfectly still, a quiet storm in the chaos, his gaze sweeping over the market like he was searching for something.
Even then, my gaze caught upon something else. A woman, small and compact, standing right next to him. Like the rest of us, her clothes were shaggy and torn with use. She was standing in a way where I could only see the back of her head, which was covered with a hat that cast long shadows on the cliffs of her neck.
When she turned, I couldn't tell whether she was talking to the man, or merely gazing at the produce in which he stood by. The two of them didn't appear to be close, or connected at all, and yet something about her secrecy chilled me. Her face was covered with an opaque, white shawl, to the point where I could differentiate nothing of her features or her face.
I tried to tear my eyes away, but I couldn't. My grip on the bag tightened as I watched them, a strange mix of curiosity and fear rooting me in place.
Then, the man's eyes shifted, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, they met mine.
I froze. His gaze was sharp, calculating, like he was peeling back layers of me with a single look. My breath hitched, and I quickly looked away, my heart hammering in my chest.
I forced myself to move, stepping deeper into the market and away from his line of sight. My feet carried me to the rice stall almost automatically, but my mind was racing. Who was he? Why was he here?
The vendor at the rice stall gave me a strange look as I fumbled with the coins, my hands shaking. "You alright?" he asked, his voice gruff but not unkind.
"Yeah," I said quickly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Just... tired."
He didn't press further, handing me a small sack of rice before turning to his next customer. I stuffed the rice into my bag and turned to leave, my steps hurried and uneven.
As I made my way back toward the edge of the market, I couldn't shake the feeling that the man in the suit was watching me. I glanced over my shoulder, but he was gone. The spot where he had stood was empty now, the crowd flowing through it as if he had never been there.
Still, the weight of his gaze stayed, a cold pressure that followed me all the way out of the market and into the quiet night. Bella was waiting for me, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She smiled when she saw me, but the tension in her posture mirrored my own.
"Did you get everything?" she asked, her voice soft.
I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.
"Good," she said, her smile faltering. She reached for the bag, but her hands trembled as she took it from me. "Let's go."
As we walked away from the market, I couldn't stop glancing over my shoulder, half-expecting to see the man in the suit standing there, his cold eyes following me. But the street was empty, and the only sound was the soft crunch of our footsteps on the dirt road.
Bella looked at me inquisitively outside, tilting her head.
"Are you okay?" She asks softly, seeming a lot like the graceful doll she was before this happened.
I nodded quickly, not sure how to explain my feelings, or what I just saw to her. I was probably just being paranoid.
"Didn't sleep well, that's all." I muttered half-heartedly, another lie spilling out of my mouth.
She frowned at me in concern, absentmindedly humming.
"Why? Do you have a lot on your mind? Do you want to talk about it?" There's the Bella I always knew: inviting, warm, trustworthy. But, something in me decided to keep quiet about it. It felt like a betrayal of all the years with Qianqian.
"Nothing. Just cold that night. It's all good now." I said instead, smiling in a way I hoped was reassuring.
Bella nodded, accepting my answer. When she wasn't looking, I glanced back one last time.
I saw a dash of white, but I rubbed my eyes, and it was gone.