“Hi, Mei-ling.” I give a little wave.
“Ni hao, Mom!” Neena appears in the doorway. I’m glad she’s so excited. She, too, is wearing a Hanfu dress, but hers is light blue with white embroidery. My little doll. Her face is made up, same as Mei-ling’s, with lighter rouge on her cheeks, and she’s wearing a wig that matches Mei-ling’s hair. Earlier today, she looked tired and worn out. But now, she seems so happy and peppy, with a giant smile on her face. My mouth quirks up as I stare at her.
“You look beautiful, Neena.”
She looks up at Mei-ling, pleased with my compliment.
“You always do,” I quickly added, because it’s true. “What’s going—” My words are halted as Paul appears just behind her. In a men’s black Hanfu lined with silver, he looks incredible. The silky black fabric against his deeply golden skin, matched with his salt-and-pepper hair is sexy as hell. I swear, the man looks good in anything. And in nothing at all as well. It’s really not fair. I center in on his mouth. Suddenly the memory of the kiss we shared snaps through my mind and I can’t help licking my dry lips. It’s rolled through my mind on repeat since it happened; how he held me, how he silenced me, how he sucked the breath right out of me. My life is filled with worry and dread. I don’t know how things with Neena will turn out. That scares me. I have so little power. So little control. The not knowing is awful. I fear the unexpected. But Paul kissing me was definitely unexpected—in the best way. He made me stop thinking for a brief moment. And I find myself craving more.
Paul must recognize my reaction because he tightens his mouth, fighting a smile. He knows the look. He knows I’m attracted to him. Even when I’ve hated him, I’ve always found him attractive. “Ni hao, Clara.” He dips his head in greeting, his hands behind his back. When he raises it again, his eyes find mine, and there’s a heat in them that hits me everywhere below the belt. I swear, one look has my insides fluttering. Tingling. It’s his superpower. And it’s my kryptonite.
“Hi,” I say, dumbly, before swallowing the dry lump in my throat and tearing my gaze from his. “Looks like I’m late to the party.”
“Actually, you are just in time,” Mei-ling tells me, as she steps to the side and motions a hand for me to enter. Neena and Paul move as well so I can step inside, but Mei-ling touches my arm, stopping me. “It is tradition to take your shoes off before you enter.” Looking down to my right, I see everyone else’s shoes lined up nice and orderly.
“Oh, sorry.” I quickly slip my shoes off, placing them next to Paul’s, then step inside. The stairway to the second floor is lit with beautiful Chinese lanterns, but the living room is covered with giant, wall-sized pictures of what appear to be Chinese buildings.
Neena takes my hand and squeezes, resting her head against my arm. When I look down at her, she’s smiling as she stares at the photos. “Dad said since I can’t go to China, he’d bring China to me.”
I blink fast. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. She’s always wanted to travel; see the world. Paul’s need to be free and seek adventure is definitely genetic. With her being so young, her poor health, and money being so tight paying medical bills, traveling hasn’t been possible. Paul is standing on the other side of me now, but I can’t look at him. If I do, I’ll definitely cry. Instead, I slip my hand in his and squeeze. It’s the only way I can communicate how much this means. Not just to Neena, whom it means the world to, but to me. When he squeezes back, he continues to hold my hand.
Neena points to the huge picture in front of us. “This is the Tiananmen. It’s known as the Gate of Heavenly Peace.”
“Wow,” I manage with a husky voice, my throat still tight with emotion.
“Mei-ling says it’s like their national symbol.”
“Should we have her dress and then we can give her a tour of China?” Mei-ling asks. I spin around. Her tone is so demure; not like how she usually speaks. Normally, she is loud and straightforward. Now, she’s . . . soft. I guess she’s taking this presentation pretty seriously.
“Dress?”
“Oh, yes,” Paul chuckles. “We have a Hanfu for you as well. It’s on your bed.”
“I’ll help you,” Mei-ling adds.
“And hurry up,” Marcus cuts in as he enters the room. His hair is tied back and he’s wearing a black Hanfu, just like Paul’s, minus the silver. I can’t help grinning.
“Shut it, Clara,” he grumbles. I know deep down he hates this. But he loves Neena more. Like Paul, he’ll do anything for her. “The dumplings are almost done.”
“Don’t ruin them!” Mei-ling yells from halfway up the stairs, sounding like her old self. I try to muffle my snort of laughter. There she is.