Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ethan watched her from the doorway of the master suite at their hotel in Enshi City, willing his face into something like puzzlement.
She came back into the small sitting area, stopping just inside it. “There are two bedrooms.”
“Yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I noticed.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I guess it’s what Michael could find on short notice.” He shrugged as if it were nothing.
She tilted her head, studying him, and he turned toward the desk before she could read too much. He picked up his phone, needing something to look at other than her.
His cousins had been busy in the Signal chat.
DDW
How is Mei Lin’s health? I’ve been doing some research. You might want to look into getting her supplements.
MW
They’re a little busy, doc. Also, E’s a doctor too.
DDW
He’s busy keeping them alive. E, if you pass a health food store…
Ethan gave his message a thumbs-up. He should get Mei Lin some supplements, but he didn’t know what she needed. Everything, probably.
BW
Been doing some research. Vitamins D and C would be a good start.
DDW
Did you ask Dr. ChatGPT?
BW
It’s less sarcastic than the human doctor I know.
Daniel had given that text a thumbs-down. The other brothers had added little Haha emojis.
Ethan tapped a reply.
ML’s health is improving. She needs food and rest and to not be running for her life.
Good ideas. I’ll look for supplements. Thanks.
Ethan searched for a store that might sell supplements nearby, but there wasn’t anything within walking distance.
Mostly, he was avoiding looking at Mei Lin. He didn’t want to tell her the truth, that he’d texted Michael and asked him to find them a two-bedroom suite, or at least a suite with a sitting area and a sofa.
Michael hadn’t asked any questions, just replied with a thumbs-up.
This hotel was a step down from the one he’d booked the only other time Ethan had been in this city, though it was still nice, made for people much wealthier than the locals.
The living room between the two bedrooms had a balcony that overlooked the Qing River, which cut between the mountains.
Late-afternoon light slanted across the floor, and the heater clanked every few minutes like it resented being asked to work.
Behind him, Mei Lin settled on a chair, and though she didn’t speak, he could feel her eyes on him.
He gave up on shops and looked at restaurants. “Looking for a place to eat,” he said, not that he could read any of the Chinese characters staring back at him. “You hungry?”
“I will eat.”
He’d heard of people coming out of starvation who gorged on food as if they might not ever get full. His wife was apparently the opposite. She’d never been much of an eater, but if she didn’t stop picking at her food, how was she going to get back to a healthy weight?
He kept scrolling uselessly, but his mind wasn’t on dinner or even on Mei Lin’s health.
He was too focused on not thinking about the last time he’d been in Enshi City.
He wasn’t going to think about the flowers he’d ordered to fill the room or the way she’d gasped when she’d seen them, inhaling as if their scent were the most fragrant perfume.
He wasn’t going to think about the way she’d laughed at his pathetic attempt to use chopsticks and how he’d thought, I will never get tired of that sound.
He wasn’t going to think about the bed where they’d spent their first night together as a married couple or the way she’d felt in his arms.
There was a reason he’d asked for two rooms. He needed the wall between them.
He wanted her so much it hurt, and it was getting worse, not better. In Changsha she’d been sick, and he’d had something to focus on—feed her, get her warm, diagnose what ailed her.
The night before had been harder, but she’d been so tired, and the story she’d told certainly hadn’t enhanced the mood.
Now she was getting her color back. Ever since she’d come out of the bedroom in his T-shirt that morning, hair damp from the shower, he’d been fighting the image. And fighting himself for fighting it. She was his wife. He was her husband. It was okay.
Or maybe it wasn’t.
He had no idea how he was supposed to behave. He knew what he wanted, but what did Mei Lin want? Did she still want him? Even if she did, she was so thin, so tired.
And then there was the secret he still hadn’t confessed. How would his wife feel when he told her he’d been seeing someone? He needed to have that conversation before he took her to bed, right?
Where was the handbook? He needed instructions. He needed…
“Ethan?”
“Hmm.” He didn’t turn.
“Did you find something?”
“Not yet. Sorry.” He glanced over his shoulder.
She was perched on the edge of the couch, one leg tucked under her, watching him with that quiet, patient look she got when she was thinking too much. He used to love that look. It was always the beginning of some deep conversation.
He dreaded it now.
He took a few steps toward her, phone out. “You decide. It just occurred to me that I don’t speak Mandarin.”
“That just occurred to you, did it?” When she reached for his phone, their fingers brushed. He pulled his hand back fast.
Her smile faded.
“Thanks.” He perched on the arm of the sofa nearby, pretending nothing had happened.
“Any requests?” she asked, scrolling.
“I’ll eat anything that isn’t moving.”
The corner of her mouth lifted. “That narrows it down.”
He laughed, but even he heard how forced it sounded.
He should tell her about Holly. He should tell her now, and then maybe he wouldn’t have to sleep in the extra bedroom. Maybe she’d forgive him and want him beside her.
Or maybe she’d curse him. He wouldn’t blame her, not that he’d done anything wrong. Holly had come along after years of grieving. His mother, his friends, even a counselor had told him he needed to move on.
Holly was an OB/GYN who practiced in the hospital where he worked. She was a few years older than Ethan. Smart, easy to be around, kind. She’d asked him out. He’d made excuses the first couple of times, but the third, he’d said yes. They’d been dating for almost a year.
Holly was more invested in their relationship than he was, but he’d hoped he could get there too. He’d hoped he would fall in love again and have a family. It was all he’d wanted his whole life—a family of his own.
He’d always known he would never feel for Holly what he felt for Mei Lin. He’d been stringing her along, making all those people who’d told him to move on believe he’d taken their advice. Meanwhile, he’d used Holly as a salve to his loneliness.
In his defense, he hadn’t known he was doing that. And now he was going to have to break her heart.
She’d been honest about her feelings for him, even tried to broach the where is this going conversation. He’d put her off, telling her he wasn’t ready. She’d accepted that. She’d been patient with him, and so kind.
He didn’t have her number in his burner, but he could call her at the hospital. He could picture her in her white coat, standing near the nurse’s station in the maternity ward to talk on the phone.
And then what? Was he really going to have the my dead wife is alive and I’m in China with her conversation while she was at work?
Maybe it would be kinder. Maybe leaving her to wonder why he hadn’t called was worse.
But he wouldn’t call because…
He was a coward. It was that simple.
“Ethan.”
He turned to where Mei Lin was holding the phone up with a dumpling place displayed on the screen. “This one is close. The reviews are good.”
“Great.”
She dropped the phone but didn’t dial, just looked at him.
“What?”
“You are very far away.”
“I’m right here, sweetheart.”
“You know what I mean.”
He was scrambling for an excuse when the phone rang in her hand. It was Michael.
Mei Lin tapped the screen and set it on the coffee table.
“You there?” Michael asked.
“Yup.” Ethan rounded the sofa and sat beside her.
“I think I’ve got it. Tell me what you think.” He cleared his throat as if he were about to recite a speech. “Mei Lin, you’ll go in as a postal worker. I’m working on getting you a uniform and a scooter. You can drive a scooter, can’t you?”
“I grew up in a village in China. What do you think?”
Ethan smiled at his wife’s sarcasm, delivered with a smile. Considering there were more mopeds and motorcycles than cars, the answer seemed pretty obvious.
“Just making sure,” Michael said. “I’m not sure where you should go in, but—”
“I know where to go. Nobody will pay any attention to me, especially with the helmet. You will get it?”
“If it’s part of the uniform, the guy should get it. If not, you’ll have to buy one that looks similar enough.”
“Okay,” she said. “That will work.”
“Who’s your guy?” Ethan asked.
“Gavin got the name, a contact he found through a contact. He didn’t tell me the details.”
Ethan hadn’t heard from his father in a couple of days. He’d sort of figured Gavin had handed the Ethan-problem over to Michael and washed his hands of it. “You trust this…contact?”
“Your dad’s willing to trust him with your life. That’s good enough for me.”
It was a knee-jerk reaction, the instinct to argue, to tell his cousin that his always-absent father didn’t care that much.
But Gavin seemed to be trying hard to prove the opposite.
Showing up at the airport. Before that, refusing to deny who Ethan was when Delaney and her sisters had caught them having lunch. Helping to keep Ethan and Mei Lin safe.
“Ethan,” Michael said, “you’re the distraction.”
“Okay.”
“You’ll walk in the front door, looking like a man who expects to be received. You’ll introduce yourself—I’ll get you papers that look good enough, should they ask. You’re a doctor from America, there to see Dr. Tsui Fu.”
“Is he still there?” Mei Lin leaned toward the phone. “He’s got to be in his seventies.”
“He’s the hospital administrator now,” Michael said, “and he wrote a paper about early diagnosis of some…cancer, I guess. Ethan, say you’re there to talk to him about his research. I can send you a copy of the paper if you want.”