Helen Hoang - The Bride Test

Esme jerked away from Khải with a start, and her heart dropped when her fears were confirmed. It was her. “Hi, Angelika.”

Khải looked from her to the tall blond Russian woman, and Esme broke out in a cold sweat. He was going to find out she was a big liar, and then he was going to look down on her more.

“I did not know you have a boyfriend,” Angelika said.

Khải didn’t correct Angelika. Maybe that meant something, but Esme didn’t have time to think about it. They needed to leave right away. Maybe if they were fast, Khải wouldn’t figure it out.

She jumped to her feet. “We need to go. Later, Angelika.” She wanted to grab Khải by the arm and drag him after her, but she was afraid of touching him the wrong way. After a moment’s hesitation, she limped off on her own, hoping he’d follow. Luckily, he did.

But instead of letting them leave in peace, Angelika tagged after them. “I am thinking of applying here if I pass the GED. But I do not know if I will pass. If you take the test, you will pass.” To Khải, she said, “Esmeralda is very smart. She gets As on all of her tests in class.”

Esme’s heart jumped and started beating so fast her vision blurred. Too late.

“You’re taking classes?” he asked. “At the adult school across from my mom’s restaurant?”

She nodded as she stared down at the ground, wishing she could melt into the cracks between the bricks. Now he knew she wasn’t Esme in Accounting. She was Esme who hadn’t even graduated high school.

Angelika took an uncomfortable step back. “I, um, I will see you later. Have a nice weekend. Nice meeting you.”

Esme waved, and Khải flashed his usual barely there smile at Angelika before focusing on Esme again.

When he opened his mouth to speak, Esme hurried to say, “We’re done now. We should go.”

As she limped back the way they’d come, she distracted herself by taking in as much of the campus as she could. Her dad had walked on these same bricks, breathed this same air, seen these same trees. This was probably the closest she’d ever get to him.

Khải caught up to her with easy strides of his long, uninjured legs. “We should go the other way.”

“The car is this way.” She pointed toward the parking lot.

“There’s another place we should try.”

She paused. “Another place?”

“The alumni building. They might be more helpful. I probably should have taken you there first. Do you need help getting there? It’s not far. It’s just over there.” He motioned in the other direction, toward a cluster of more modern buildings surrounded by old trees.

“I’ll walk. Let’s go.”

Esme hobbled as fast as she could through the student traffic, hoping if they moved quickly, they couldn’t talk. But that didn’t stop Khải from asking, “What classes are you taking?”

She hugged her arms over her chest even though she wasn’t cold. “English, social studies, and accounting.”

“Isn’t that a lot? Three classes?”

“Is it?” She didn’t have anything to compare it to. All she knew was she spent a lot of time sneak studying when she thought people couldn’t see her.

“I think so.” He swiped at his hair, but when his hand encountered the shorter locks, he rubbed at his neck instead. “I was never very good at those classes — other than accounting, of course. I do better with numbers.”

She had to smile at that. “Me, too.” They were the same no matter what language you were speaking.

He smiled back at her before he focused on the tops of the passing trees. “If you ever need help, I can try. I don’t mind.”

She watched her feet pad unevenly over the ground, so she had something to look at other than him. Step-draaag, step-draaag, step-draaag. When she’d finally built up the courage, she made herself say, “I’m sorry. For lying. I’m not an accountant. I …” She inhaled. “… clean places.” She exhaled, and her insides shriveled. “Back home. I didn’t finish school. We needed money because Ngoại was too weak to work, so I started to clean, and then I—” She bit her lip before she mentioned having a baby.

When she glanced at him, she found him watching the way ahead with a small frown. “You didn’t need to lie to me.”

She winced and looked back down at her feet. Step-draaag, step-draaag, step-draaag. “I wanted you to like me.” It wasn’t a question, but she held her breath as she waited for him to respond.

That was when he stopped in front of a modest one-story building composed of glass and red brick. “This is it.”

In the front reception area, a woman with short gray hair and a pantsuit greeted them. “Welcome to Alumni House. How can I help you?”

Esme wet her lips and took the photograph out of her purse as she struggled to put her thoughts into English. “I am looking for a man. This man. Twenty-four years ago—”

“I’m sorry. We specialize in alumni events here. You’ll need to speak to someone else if you’re looking for a specific alumnus. Did you try the registrar’s office?” the lady asked.

“We were just there,” Khải said.

“I see.” The lady frowned, and after a moment she hurried to her desk, found a business card in one of the drawers, and handed it to Esme. “This woman is in charge of the Alumni Association. Try giving her a call. I don’t know if she’ll be able to help you, but if anyone can, it would be her.”

Esme tried to smile, but her lips refused to cooperate. “Thank you.”

They were both quiet as they made the short walk back to the car. Someone had stuck a yellow slip of paper under one of the windshield wipers, and Khải pulled it out and read it. She caught the words Parking Ticket on the paper before he stuffed it in his pocket, and clear as daytime, right in front of the car, there was a big sign that said, No parking without permit.

He’d intentionally gotten a ticket, and she knew he’d done it for her. Because of her ankle. It was a small thing, but she didn’t know anyone else who would have done something like that for her. Just Khải.

He left the parking lot, drove through campus, and merged onto the big road, and she watched as he wove in and out of the afternoon traffic like a getaway driver after a bank heist, fast but in perfect control. His hands looked strong and capable on the wheel and the gear shift, and she remembered he’d touched her with them earlier. Her face, her lips, her jaw.

Would he want to touch her again now that he knew she was a fake accountant? Would he want to touch her if he found out she had a baby?

“Give me that business card when we get home, okay?” he said unexpectedly. “I want to call that woman at the Alumni Association.”

His words were so out of line with her thoughts, it took her a moment to understand what he meant. “You’ll call her for me?”

Eyes on the road, he replied, “Yeah. I’ll let you know if she gives me any useful information.”

A weight she hadn’t been aware of lifted off her shoulders, and gratitude swelled inside of her. For someone who was often tactless, he could be incredibly considerate when it mattered. She got the card from her purse and placed it in the center console. “Thank you, Anh.”

He nodded and concentrated on driving.

When they arrived at his house, he put the car in park but didn’t turn the ignition off. Her fingers hesitated over her seat belt buckle.

“Your classes are at night, right?” he asked.

She squirmed in the seat. “That’s right.”

“Do you want me to pick you up from now on, so you don’t have to take the bus?”

“You don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind,” he replied.

“Then, thank you, Anh.”

He nodded once and left the car, and she followed behind as he went up the driveway and unlocked the front door of his house. She thought he might kiss her then, but he merely held the door open for her. Instead of passing straight through, she paused in front of him, inviting him to continue what had been interrupted earlier. Expectation built, and her lungs waited to draw breath. Even her heart waited to beat.

Kiss me. Kiss me.

His gaze dropped to her mouth, and her lips tingled like he’d touched them. Yes, he was going to—

He took a step back, looked away from her, and said, “I’m going to get some stuff done at the office. I’ll see you later tonight.”

Her chest sank, and she watched him grab his computer bag and return to his car. He had wanted to kiss her. Before he knew. But not anymore.

He’d done all those things — showing up at the doctor’s office, carrying her, the haircut — with Esme in Accounting. He wasn’t interested in the real Esme.

The following week, Khai pretended the almost kiss never happened. Esme’s Russian friend had saved him from committing a grievous mistake in a moment of poor judgment.

Esme might be able to handle a physical relationship without any adverse effects, but he didn’t think he could. She was already a song that played on endless repeat in his head. If he started having sex with her, this thing would escalate into pure addiction, and what the fuck would happen when she left at the end of the summer? If he didn’t want to find out, he had to keep his distance.

He did a stellar job of it until Friday evening rolled around and it was time to attend the second wedding of the summer. He knocked on her door, and she opened it with a tentative smile.

For a long moment, he simply gazed at her. She didn’t look like herself. Her dress was black. Didn’t she think that was an unhappy color? It hung loosely over her body, hiding every area of interest, and holy shit, look at all that bling. Her ears, throat, and hands were blinding. There had to be a hundred dollars’ worth of cubic zirconia there, no way those were real diamonds.