Chapter 17 #2
a strange envy for the carefree dog. Over the past year, there was so much that Wayward had wanted to express, had wanted
to cheer, had wanted to yell out loud—but was muted by fears of who might be listening.
Yes, life had become downright dystopian. But if all went according to plan, Wayward would not only achieve his ambitious
and far-reaching goals for Sunfang Promessa, but he might surmount an even greater feat: finally uniting the Sun Clan.
When Wayward and Bindi got back to the town house, the lively scent of earthy matcha wafted through the air from the lattes
that Jamaal was brewing in the kitchen. After feeding Bindi his breakfast, Wayward wrapped his arms around Jamaal, running
his hands over his boyfriend’s lightly furry chest.
Not missing a beat, Jamaal turned around and the two men kissed passionately, little moans escaping whenever their lips briefly parted. Wayward gave Jamaal a playful spank and grabbed his steaming thermos, ready to head out.
“See you at the ultrasound appointment?” Wayward asked.
Jamaal nodded. “Yes, I got a substitute teacher for my class, but . . .”
They gave each other a peculiar, well-practiced look.
Jamaal continued. “Roses asked me again if she could come to the appointment with us.”
Wayward let out an amused chuckle. “Of course she did. Why is she asking us? The agreement was between her and Kat.”
Indeed, when Bessie initially agreed to be the surrogate of Wayward’s child, Kat had been adamantly against the idea, declaring
that this bizarre scenario was “Handmaid’s Tale creepy.” It was only after many concessions from Roses that Kat finally gave in, but Kat’s biggest nonnegotiable was that
the entire process be as respectful to Bessie’s privacy and autonomy as possible. This included medical visits and consultations,
which were not to include anyone else other than Wayward and Jamaal.
Jamaal shrugged. “She’s just very excited to meet your son. Can’t blame her for that.”
“She’s expecting us to go up against lesbians,” Wayward teased. “Clearly she doesn’t know that gays will never win against
lesbians.”
“I’ll let her down gently then,” Jamaal sighed. “She can just focus on preparing for the baby shower.” Then he winked at Wayward.
The two of them had gotten very good at this.
Because as unsettling as their situation was, Wayward and Jamaal knew who was listening. With stakes as immense as hers, Roses
would certainly feel justified to use the Sunfang phones to keep tabs on her unruly family. After all, she believed she was
rescuing their souls from eternal starvation. What harm was a little light espionage?
This explained the strange powers of Galahad Chu.
After Wayward’s encounter with Mr. Tung at the Lunar New Year party, Wayward had put two and two together, realizing that Galahad had been planted by Roses.
If she fed Galahad information about the Sun family, the alleged holy man in turn could do her dirty work under the guise of his psychic abilities.
It was a classic Roses Sun maneuver, to never get her fingerprints on anything.
But Roses did not know that Wayward and Jamaal knew she was listening, and this was a reversal of fortune for the lovers.
By editing what they said in the presence of his phone, they were able to create a false narrative that empowered Wayward
to pull off his grand ambitions right under Roses’s unsuspecting nose.
So as far as Roses knew, her favorite nephew and his boyfriend had fallen into line, and Bessie Machado would deliver the
Sun Clan’s long-awaited heir in only a few months.
What Roses did not know was that she was in for the surprise of a lifetime.
“One more hug!”
“Daddy, I already hugged you twice!”
“I need three total, or else I’ll cry!” Cristiano scrunched up his face into an adorable pout.
As April watched, a giggling Meadow fell into her father’s arms again, and they embraced tightly. “Okay, I got my hug quota
for this morning.” Cristiano grinned as Meadow climbed into her patiently waiting car pool.
“You have a great day at school, honey!” April said, beaming.
“Yes,” Cristiano added, “listen to your teachers and make sure you eat all of your lunch.”
Standing side by side with cheerful smiles, April and Cristiano waved and waved until Meadow’s car pool drove away. But the
moment their daughter disappeared around the corner, their faces fell.
Without looking at her husband, April turned back to walk into the house, a modest one-story that was only slightly larger than the Malibu compound’s garage. She moved with a certain labored heaviness, as she had gained nearly forty pounds in the last few months.
Cristiano stared after her, his brow furrowed with concern. Making up his mind, he broke their silence as he followed her
into the house.
“Ape . . .”
“Not now, Cris,”
Numbly she kicked off her shoes at the entrance, but Cristiano reached out to turn her to him. She avoided his eyes.
“Ape, talk to me.”
Pulling away from him, April made her way to the sofa in the living room, where she fell down with a plop. “I thought you
said you were sick of arguing.”
Cristiano sat next to her. “So you can’t talk to me without arguing?”
April finally met his gaze, glaring fiercely. “No, I can’t.”
After they had been expelled from the Malibu compound, April, Cristiano, and Meadow had only one place they could go. Cristiano’s
parents had readily opened up their home in Gardena to them, and despite the tension between them, April and Cristiano had
put on brave faces for Meadow so that the jarring transition would go as smoothly as possible for her.
But anytime that Meadow was out of earshot, April was unable to contain her fury. The two of them clashed and raged so much
that Cristiano’s worried parents booked themselves a yearlong cruise around the world, hoping that if they got out of the
way, the young couple would find their way back to harmony.
But without an audience in their shared isolation, April and Cristiano instead fell silent. April resigned herself to staring
listlessly at the TV, while Cristiano worked out countless hours in the gym, his physique more magnificent than ever. This
perhaps added more insult to April’s injury as her own body had changed rapidly—though to be fair, she was also eating more
than she ever had, with a certain desperation as though she were trying to justify the burgeoning shape of her stomach.
Cristiano reached out to April, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder, but she flinched it off of her like it was a hot coal. He sighed, keeping his hands to himself. “Have you decided whether we’re going?”
April shrugged. “Why are you asking me? He’s your best friend.”
Truth was, Cristiano had not seen or spoken to Wayward in ages. “He’s your cousin,” Cristiano countered.
“I don’t want to see those people. You can go yourself if you’re so interested.”
“Wayward reaching out to invite us to this baby shower is an olive branch,” Cristiano said. “We can’t outcast ourselves forever.”
“Don’t speak for us like we’re a team,” April snapped, “when you so clearly have your own motivations within my family.”
Cristiano leaped up, exasperated. “Why are we hiding here in Gardena like we’ve done something wrong? How long are we going
to continue like this?”
April did not answer. The day after the Lunar New Year party, while a cleaning crew was still sopping up the flood on the
ground floor of the Malibu compound, she and Cristiano had packed up just a few belongings, mostly of Meadow’s, and loaded
them into their car. April even forced Cristiano to surrender his phone along with hers, as their phones all technically belonged
to Sunfang. “I don’t want a damn thing of hers,” April had said, glaring up at her mother’s curtained bay windows as they
departed.
And even though Roses had offered to help April relocate, the daughter had rejected this as a matter of principle. She wanted
it to be clear that Roses was exiling her daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter. But once they were outside of the Malibu
compound’s protected confines, unfettered of their golden handcuffs, April discovered for the first time in her life that
having principles was a privilege. And no longer privileged, her ostracized family of three faced a tough reality for the
first time.
April had never had her own credit card before, and as for Cristiano’s sports consulting company?
April never assumed it was a massive moneymaker, but it turned out that Roses’s didn’t just sit on the board; she was the entire board.
Adding further insult to injury, his company was barely turning a profit.
The abandoned couple had no clout, and no money.
“Ape, how long are we going to continue like this?” Cristiano’s repeated question snapped April out of her morbid thoughts.
“I don’t know,” April admitted, because she truly did not know—despite the ticking clock inside her. “But I know that I don’t
want to see them . . .” She looked down at herself. “And I don’t want them to see me.”
“April,” Cristiano said, getting down on his knees so they were facing each other. “I hope you know that I still love you
and want you. Even now.”
April shot him a dirty look. “Even now?” she repeated. “You mean, even now that I’m heavier? Wow, that’s so generous of you,
Cris! Thank you for still being attracted to your fat wife!”
Cristiano’s face went stony. He stood up and strode out of the living room, down the hall. But within a few seconds he was
back, holding something in a plastic bag. He unceremoniously tossed it at her.
“What is this, April?”
Confused, April fumbled with the bag, at first only seeing white smeared with red. But when she realized what it was, she
was stunned.
“Why are you going through my trash?” she demanded, but already she realized in horror what had happened.
Cristiano crossed his arms. “You’ve gone through so much effort to trick me. Why shouldn’t I take a closer look? That’s not
real blood, Ape!”