41
D ad can tell when he picks me up at the airport that something is wrong.
“Why couldn’t the psychic stop crying?” he asks when we finally gets me into his car. Maneuvering in the snow with crutches is not an easy feat.
“I don’t know, why?”
“Because she wasn’t a happy medium!” he says, snickering to himself.
I snort, despite myself. “How long have you had that one locked and loaded?”
“Oh, for weeks. Was waiting ’til you were home to use it,” he informs me, eyes on the slush-filled road as we pull out of the airport parkade. “When you asked me to pick you up, I thought for sure you’d have Caleb with you.”
“Nope,” I say dully, fastening my seat belt.
“Is he coming to visit soon?” he prods.
“I’m not sure,” I say.
Caleb will be backpacking around Indonesia for the foreseeable future. At least, that was the plan as of twelve hours ago when we said goodbye. The way we parted wasn’t angry, or sad, or anything in between. It was more of a quiet understanding that we were taking a break. For now.
Walking away, even temporarily, from my soulmate is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Even as we said goodbye, I thought about what would happen if I just stuck it out longer; maybe things would have been like they were in the beginning. Taking space after this long feels suspiciously like giving up. Because despite what Mei says about finding our way back to each other, I can’t help but wonder, What if we don’t? What if I’m abandoning my soulmate? What if I’m setting myself up for a lifetime of loneliness?
Still, when we parted at the train station, we made vague plans for me to join back up with him once I’m healed. Though it felt more like a noncommittal “Let’s get together soon.” The kind of plan you make with an old friend that may never come to fruition.
I also can’t ignore the surge of relief I felt when I left—and when the wheels touched ground at home. And if there’s anything I’ve learned from Mei and Ellen over the years, it’s to trust my gut.
Admittedly, I do miss Caleb already. After spending that many months with someone, it feels weird to suddenly be apart. It’s kind of like when you get gel nails removed and your natural nails feel weird and stubby, entirely changed.
Dad swings me a look. “I’m guessing things didn’t go as planned?”
I sigh. “They did and they didn’t.” I tell him all about having the absolute time of my life—until I got injured.
Being out of commission is temporary, but who knows what life has in store. There could be many times when I’m ill or unable to live life to the fullest. And whether Caleb would admit it or not, I think he’s viewed my injury as a burden. I think he was relieved to fly solo again.
Dad nods, barely suppressing his delight. He’s trying to hide it, but I know he’s amped to have me back home after this long. He even offered me a third-wheel ticket with him and Scheana on the cruise, but I declined given my knee.
“You know, Aunt Ellen has a T-shirt that says ‘ If you can’t handle me at my worst, you can’t handle me at my best ,’” he reminds me.
I sink down in my seat and try to erase that from my memory. “Please never say that again.”
“But it’s true.”
I shrug. “I’m still scared I made the wrong decision to leave.” I’m confused as ever—with myself, more than anything.
Aunt Mei assured me that if we were truly meant to be together, we would find our way back into each other’s lives. But I’m not sure I want it to be true. There’s something missing between us. A gap I’m not sure can be filled with time and perspective. If that’s the case, is Caleb really my soulmate? And does ignoring my vision mean I’m doomed?
“Why would it be the wrong decision if coming home is what feels right?”
“Well, the vision is always right. It has to be,” I say, watching the big fluffy snowflakes hit the windshield in globs.
A year ago, I’d have given anything to have my family’s abilities. I’d have done anything to know I had a soulmate out there. And now, I feel constrained by it, constrained by the obligation of being with someone I don’t think I love, and faced with eternal loneliness and bad luck if I choose not to be. Things were easier when I could be like everyone else and make my own choices. When I didn’t feel forced onto a certain path.
Dad considers this. “Why does it have to be an absolute?”
My eyes well with tears. “Because if it’s wrong, it means I’m cursed. That I’m going to be alone and miserable forever.”
“I have a hard time believing that.”
“And it would mean I’m not like Mom. Or any other woman in the family.” My whole life, I’ve been so used to things being out of my control—Mom’s death, not inheriting the abilities, not knowing what I want to do with my life. Having this vision meant something more than finding The One. For the first time, something was guaranteed, the course of my life set. I wouldn’t have to worry or wonder. Fate was finally going to take over and I could sit back and enjoy the ride. Or so I thought.
Dad’s face falls. “That’s not true.”
“It is, though. For years, I thought I didn’t inherit any of her talent, and it killed me. And then I had the vision and it made me feel like I had a tangible connection to her. And then traveling, following her route, I’ve never felt closer to her.” In a sense, I felt like I was traveling for her, going all the places she wanted to but never got the chance to.
“You have no idea how similar you are, even without the vision.”
“Really?”
He shuts his eyes and lets out a long sigh before pulling over to the side of the road. “Did you know your mom and I met at a work meeting?” he asks, putting the car in Park.
“Yeah, you told me that.” I take a deep inhale over the squeak and drag of the windshield wipers, frankly shocked he’s brought her up.
“Well, I never I told you that it wasn’t a meet-cute. It was more ... a meet-ugly,” he says. I’m afraid to move an inch for fear he’ll stop talking. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t nice to her. She disagreed with me on the interpretation of evidence on a high-profile case. I was so embarrassed because she pointed it out in front of our boss. I didn’t take it well. I’d already been on the case for over a year, and she was brand new. So I thought, what could she possibly know that I don’t?”
“Sounds like male fragility to me,” I point out with a wry smile.
“You’re probably right. I realized later that she had a point. I needed a fresh perspective like hers. By the time I apologized, she’d already made up her mind about me. It took weeks of groveling for her to forgive me.
“We slowly started talking, and then we hung out at a work party—bowling, of all things. That’s when I really fell for her. She was such a romantic, like you. So interested in people, in new places, in doing things she’d never done before, like playing bocce or learning new games—or traveling. One day, I asked her on a date and she refused, which shocked me because we’d been getting along so well and I thought she liked me too. I didn’t know if I’d misread things between us, so I asked her why. She said she wished she could, but it wouldn’t work for reasons she couldn’t explain. For weeks, that went on. Eventually, I convinced her to go out with me. She tried to scare me off by telling me she was a psychic. I think she assumed I’d run for the hills, having such a scientific outlook on the world.”
“So the psychic thing didn’t scare you off?”
He shakes his head. “I thought it was strange at first, I’ll give you that. But it actually made me love her more. I liked that she didn’t have this narrow view of the world like a lot of our colleagues. Things weren’t completely black and white, with logical, scientific explanations. In fact, it’s dangerous to think you know everything, that you can logic out every situation. There are things in this world that don’t always have an explanation. The Zhao women have proven that over and over. I’ve witnessed it firsthand. Your mom actually predicted my dad’s heart attack a day before it happened.
“We fell in love—hard. But one day, I found her in tears after work. She told me the truth, about her family’s abilities. About how she was destined for one specific soulmate. And that it wasn’t me.”
My world tilts. “Wait, what?” I ask, bracing myself against the window.
Dad nods his head, confirming that I heard correctly.
His meaning settles, heavy in my core. “Her soulmate wasn’t you ?” I ask, barely above a whisper.
His mouth presses closed before opening again. “No.”
I draw my head back. “What do you mean? But what about her vision? The glasses? The hearts?”
“She’d had a vision. And it had nothing to do with me. At all,” he clarifies.
“I’m so confused. The vision Mei and Ellen told me about. It wasn’t true?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and turns to me. “Here’s the thing. Your mother’s family never would have approved of us if they knew she was going against her vision. So we made it up. And she swore me to secrecy.”
“Even Mei and Ellen don’t know? To this day?”
“No.”
What the hell? I crack open the passenger door, in desperate need of fresh air.
I’ve lived my entire life thinking my parents were soulmates—that I was some product of fate—only to find out it was all a lie.
“So that’s why you were so cagey with me,” I conclude. Snippets of conversation come flooding back, of asking questions about Mom’s vision, Dad evading and changing the subject. Dad was always a bit blasé about the soulmate idea in general, but I just thought it was because there was part of him that didn’t believe in it.
“Yes,” he admits, tone heavy. “She made me promise not to tell anyone until you were older. I wanted to tell you for so long, but I never knew if it was the right time. And then you were so excited when you had your vision, I didn’t have the heart to tell you.”
My eyes widen. “So that means ... you aren’t technically her soulmate.”
“Not according to the vision—”
“Did she ever meet the person in the vision?”
“No. Not that I know of. She said she didn’t have to, that I was who she was meant to be with.”
I rake my hands through my hair. “I don’t know what to say ... You’re not Mom’s soulmate,” I keep repeating.
How must Mom have felt? Knowing she was defying her family’s beliefs and lying to them for years. I wonder if she ever felt alone like I do right now, or worse, regretted her decision.
“I beg to differ. I know you and your aunts are really hung up on fate. But your mom and I fell in love not because of fate, but because we simply liked each other. Loved each other enough to put in the hard work. That’s romance to me.”
I can’t wrap my head around it. Mom went against the grain. She fell in love with someone who wasn’t her soulmate.
Maybe we do have something in common after all.