“You are late,” she couldn’t help but protest as he sat down next to her.
“I was at the office,” he said simply. She admired his elegant fatigue, his well-cut suit worn in from the day, and the wool tie loosening around his collar. She thought about telling him that he looked handsome but decided against it. A waitress came by and took their orders—a champagne and cream soup for her, and a beer and curry rice for him.
“You missed my sister’s wedding,” Jade said slowly. She did not want to sound irritable.
“I had to work that day,” he said, leaving out that his boss had asked him to tutor his daughter on the side. He had just taught another lesson at their mansion earlier that afternoon. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. How did it go?”
“She was the most beautiful bride in the world. I heard people gasping when she walked through the door. Of course, they gasped too when they saw a tall, red-haired Yankee at the altar!” Jade giggled.
“She will be well taken care of. It is the best thing that could have happened,” HanChol said, sinking into the booth and anchored by exhaustion.
“Yes . . . She had refused him for the longest time but finally realized he is a good man. That’s more important than whether he is foreign or not—even her mother said so, and she’s very traditional.” Jade took a sip of her champagne. “She will go to America and live in those houses that look like churches!”
“That’s great. She’s a lovely person and I’m very happy to hear that.”
The waitress returned with their dishes and they quietly worked on their food for a while. A song came on—one of Lotus’s hits that they hadn’t heard in years.
“Oh, darling.” Jade turned her head toward the gramophone. “I love this song. Can we dance?”
HanChol hesitated for a second. The Grill was not a place where people danced, generally. There were four or five tables of other guests, sedately eating their dinner. Then he saw the starry excitement in Jade’s face, stood up, and extended his hand. As she rose she pulled it to her lips and planted a kiss with such natural and unselfconscious affection. Not wanting or expecting anything in return, even a kiss. These gestures were one of the myriad ways in which she was profoundly different from other women. The way she danced was another. Under the cover of music, he pulled her in as close as possible. He wanted to feel her heartbeat.
“I wish I could be happy too,” Jade whispered.
“But you are happy, aren’t you? You have everything.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t have your love.”
He pulled away from her and looked into her face. “Why would you say that? Of course I love you.”
“If you loved me, you would have asked me to marry you a long time ago.” Her voice was trembling.
“Please don’t talk like this. Not here,” he implored, looking at the diners around them.
“If Luna can get married, why can’t I?” she blurted out, not from anger, but from confusion and pain. “Are you ashamed of me? Or am I just your toy until you find a suitable bride?”
HanChol’s face shut down and became inscrutable, refusing to meet her eyes. “Let’s talk outside. I’ll get your coat,” he said flatly and went to pay the bill.
It was a cold and clear night. The sight of the stars calmed Jade and made her believe that this couldn’t really be the end. They would talk it out and, in an hour or two, lie in each other’s arms in the warmth of their bed. After HanChol helped her into her coat, she reached for his hand and said, “Walk me home.” It was the same road that they’d taken to go home after her performances. They had both been barely older than children, an age when falling in love was as natural as breathing.
They walked for some time, their footsteps crunching on hoarfrost. “Why don’t you want to marry me?” Jade asked finally.
“It’s not that I don’t want to.” He sighed. “My family would never allow me to marry someone—someone who . . .”
“An actress? A former courtesan? Someone who is not a virgin daughter of a genteel family?” she said, letting go of his hand. “You know, there are many heirs to great houses who choose to marry for love. These days it’s not so unheard of.”
Something like a sarcastic laugh came out of HanChol’s mouth, imagining his mother’s reaction should he bring home a woman who once had lain with men for a price. What Jade was asking was completely absurd.
“I am my mother’s only son and hope. I can’t go against her wish,” he said tautly.
“If I meant enough to you, you could.” She wiped at her eyes. “Do you love someone else?”
“No, of course not.” He stopped walking and touched her arm. He did feel sorry then.
“I want you to know—I will never love someone else the way I love you, Jade. You’re irreplaceable. You’ve changed me—my thoughts, my feelings, my whole being—you’ve made me who I am.”
“You’ve changed me too, darling,” she said, trying to hold back the tears. “So? At least be good enough to help me understand. I would run away with you. We could leave everything behind and go somewhere, just the two of us. Why can’t we . . . ?”
“Because I’m not ready, Jade. There are things I have to do still . . . And I’m not ready,” he repeated, as if hearing it again could convince her and himself. Marriage with any woman was a complex decision, and for him to even consider it at this point it would have to be a spectacular match that would lift him up a few rungs. You only had one shot at improving your station through marriage, and he himself was not high enough to relinquish that chance. This was all better left unsaid, and he hoped she would simply understand, for both of their sakes.
But Jade didn’t understand anything except that it was time to let him go. To draw it out, she studied his face in silence. That this was the last time she would be seeing him caused her agonizing pain.