No, he couldn’t answer her. But a little bit of the ice that had encased Victor’s heart at the National African-American History Museum melted.
When the station came back from commercial break, he bopped his head to the Brit-pop classic as Dawn rapped and sang along with the lyrics, which unlike the ones to “Tipsy,” were much more appropriate to say out loud.
After that, another song started playing, and this one lit up Dawn’s face even more than the other two. “Oh, my God, it’s ‘Happy Ending’ by Mika! Byron used to love this guy!”
She tapped the touch screen, turning up the music.
Victor had never heard of the artist before but listened with an open mind…to what turned out to be an epically bittersweet song about a couple not getting a “happy ending.”
Despite the track’s gospel-like feel, his lightened mood immediately began to fade. And as it went on, the song drilled into a pool of wild melancholy Victor didn’t know he’d sealed up inside of his chest.
He looked sideways at Dawn. Was this affecting her in the same way?
Apparently, it was. Tears shone in her eyes as the Freddie Mercury-like singer mourned a breakup, singing with a deep emotional fervor that they would live the rest of their lives…just not together.
She wiped at her eyes. And when the singer started wailing his sorrow in the song’s dramatic rise, she abruptly punched her finger into the touchscreen’s power button and ended the song.
“Byron liked that guy way more than me,” she mumbled.
Victor didn’t respond. His heart was too heavy in his chest. She may have turned off the radio, but the song continued to resonate in the car as they drove. Getting closer to their destination, but also closer to the end. Of them.
Eventually, the sign for their Rhode Island exit appeared like a ray of light above the highway.
However, just as they merged into traffic on the busy street that would take them to their tony neighborhood in East Providence, she said, “I…I wish things had turned out differently. I can’t tell you how many times I wished that. Back in college—Mount Holyoke, not RhIDS—I used to do this silly thing where I imagined what it would’ve been like if we had gotten married, like you said. If my dad hadn’t raided your apartment and we’d been able to live out that dream. I mean, maybe we would’ve broken up like everybody else I knew who got married too young. But maybe we wouldn’t have.”
She let out a breath, audible and sad. “That what-if haunts me, you know. And I think it always will.”
Normally, Victor didn’t mind not being able to speak without his hands. But in this case, he abruptly cut through three lanes of traffic so that he could pull up to the closest curb, put the car in park, then lifted his hands to remind her, “You were always going to betray me. Don’t you act as if you and your father had anything else planned. I read the reports. Every single one.”
She visibly swallowed, her eyes widening a little bit. Then she said, “Okay,” and turned forward in her seat to close her eyes. As if she were trying to block him out.
Okay…
Feeling more “shook” than he wanted to, Victor turned to put the car in Drive.
But then she said in a rush, “What if I told you the police reports lied. That my dad lied. That I had no idea that he planted that camera in my school jacket, and I was just as surprised by the raid as you.”
She let out a shuddering breath, her eyes still closed. “What if I told you my dad said all the things that he said in his report to protect me because he didn’t want me to go down with you. And I went along with it because I was only eighteen. And you were gone, and my dad was telling me all these horrible things, and…”
She finally opened her eyes and turned to look at him again. “And I didn’t know what to do. So I went along with it. I’m sorry, Victor. I didn’t want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. I loved you so much, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I did that. And I’m sorry your father died.”
She twisted her hands in her lap. “These last few weeks, they’ve been so… I don’t know, like everything I dreamed of when we were young, stupid kids. And I probably should let this go. We’re done on May 25th anyway. But I had to try. I had to try to tell you the truth.”
He stared at her. The woman who used to be the girl who broke his heart. He stared at her as all the planes crashed inside his head. He froze on the outside, but everything inside of him was crashing and burning.
Silence once again filled up the car. But this utter silence was much noisier than any of the other ones that came before it. Her words echoed, even louder than the bittersweet breakup song she’d blasted earlier in the ride.
Victor sat there for a very long time, not trusting himself. Especially to drive.
But he was Victor Zhang. The dragonhead his father had groomed. A man who knew not to show weakness, even when planes were blowing up in his sky.
Eventually, he calmed and put the car back in gear. A few minutes later, he pulled up to the outside of the house and signed, “Don’t forget your tote bag.”
She sniffled, even though her eyes were no longer filled with tears. “You’re not coming in?”
“Don’t forget your tote bag,” he repeated.
Another hesitation, but in the end, she climbed out. He heard the click of the back door opening, then closing again. And that was it. He was free to leave.
He watched her watch him go through the rearview mirror. She stood there with her cutesy tote as he drove away. Getting smaller and smaller until it was time for him to turn a corner.
He kept on driving, her words somehow becoming louder the further away he drove. And as soon as he got to the first stoplight, he pulled out his phone to text Phantom one command: Set up a meeting with Kuang.
29
DAWN
I told Victor the truth. I finally told Victor the truth I’d been holding back for ten years.
And he didn’t believe me.
A few minutes after I made my full confession, he pulled to a stop in front of my home-shaped prison and signed for me not to forget my bag. And that was it.
Our surprise mini-vacation ended with me grabbing my Aggretsuko tote from the back seat and him driving off before the rear door was fully closed.
So I guess he hated me again. I wished, not for the first time, that it was as easy for me to hate him back.
The rest of the day passed by without a peep from Victor—no surprise there.
And, you know what, it didn’t matter that he’d disappeared. Again. That he didn’t believe me. Again.
In fact, this was probably better.
Ten years after the first time he ghosted me, I knew exactly what to do when the silent beast bounced without a word of explanation. Keep it moving, Dawn. Don’t dwell on it. Just take the L and move on.
I focused on my work, just like I had before we agreed to that stupid game of pretend. I threw myself into getting everything ready for my soft presentation the next day and decided being alone was for the best.
With his intense presence and silent refusal to believe me, Victor would have only been a distraction.
And how had I expected the conversation to end anyway? I’d known he wouldn’t believe me. I’d known that for ten years. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here. I was lucky I got out of that car without him threatening to kill my whole family again if I tried to make excuses for why I’d worked with my father to destroy his.