Hope fluttered inside me, yet there was no red thread between us. I didn’t want to rely on a physical sign, but without it, I couldn’t trust where this conversation was leading. Marc had shown he was committed to dealing with his gambling habit, yet I’d still had yet to hear what would become of us—if there was still an us.
“It’s great that you’re doing that.”
“I did it for me. I don’t want this to define who I am, or who I want to be.” He took a deep breath as if to center himself. Marc clasped his hands before him. The sight of his long brown tapered fingers linking together brought back memories of when we held hands.
I asked, “So what will you do now?”
“It depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“You.” He reached across the table for me, brushing my fingertips. “I’m afraid to hope. I know I’m not worthy, at least, not yet. I’m working on it.”
My heart constricted. Was this how Aunt Evelyn felt when Girard came back to her? They had decades apart; Marc and I had days. The uncertainty of not knowing if love remained defied the boundaries of time: seconds or years, the gnawing anxiety was the same.
“What do you want?” he asked.
This was what I wanted. My aunt’s words echoed in my mind. She saw my future or helped orchestrate this with Girard. It didn’t matter which, the result was the same. I wanted nothing more than to say yes, but I had to make sure that he knew where I planned to go.
“I’m going to Shanghai to train to be a matchmaker.”
Marc pulled back. “This is a recent development.”
“Yes. I figured out what I want to do with my life.” I told him about Aunt Evelyn’s theories, and the resulting changes. Marc, to his credit, listened and didn’t interrupt.
After I finished, he asked, “So you’re set to leave for Shanghai after Paris?”
“Yes, with a brief stop in Palo Alto to talk to my parents and the rest of the family.” I bit my lower lip.
“I guess I’ll need to brush up on my Mandarin then.”
“Wait, you want to come with me?”
“I was thinking of leaving Paris, but I didn’t know where to go. Now I do.”
I sobbed. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I covered my face. He wanted me. He would move thousands of miles to follow me—to be with me. The years of rejection had built a reservoir of deep despair, which, now crumbling, poured from me in heavy tears.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.” He knelt beside me. “If you don’t want me to come along, I can—”
“I love you, Marc.” I wiped away the last of my tears.
“I love you too.”
I grabbed his gorgeous face with both hands and kissed him. He tasted like sugar and coffee. The warmth of his lips and the heat of his kisses sent shivers down my spine. His strong arms lifted me from my seat as his fingertips danced across the exposed skin of my back. I pressed my hands against the front of his jacket, feeling the strength of his solid chest underneath.
We moved together, re-created The Kiss in the flesh. Nothing else in the world mattered more.
* * *
* * *
After the kisses, I apologized to Aunt Evelyn and Girard for the delay in their meal, and Marc joined us for the rest of dinner. He took his place beside me and held my hand on the table.
“I take it you’ll be going with her to Shanghai?” Girard asked him.
“Yes, I think I can find work there.”
“You have my reference and I can provide you with the names of some of the restaurateurs I know. I have no doubt you’ll have interviews after you land.” Girard’s expression softened. “I didn’t make it easy on you after I found out Evelyn was moving back to Paris. I acted inappropriately and placed undue pressure on you and the staff. I’m sorry. You will all receive an added bonus with your paycheck. It’s the least I can do.”
“Apology accepted. No one takes heartbreak well. I know I don’t, and luckily, this time I don’t have to.” Marc squeezed my hand under the table.
“My niece chose well,” Aunt Evelyn said. She had a playful smile and gleam in her eye. “You’re as handsome as Vanessa described.”
I giggled when I saw him blush.
“If you’re also accompanying her to Palo Alto,” she continued, “you need to be prepared. The family is quite challenging. You’ll need to be coached. Vanessa’s parents are wonderful, but her aunties are the ones you need to watch out for.”
“Auntie Evelyn!” I protested.
She shushed me and leaned closer to Marc. “They are sweet on the outside, but inside they are like a Molotov cocktail. The moment your plane ticket is printed, they’ve already done a background check, so don’t even think about glossing over any details. Being truthful and vocal about your commitment to Vanessa will be your saving grace. If you play your cards right, you might even be treated to the first taste of Gloria’s famous rice-stuffed chicken.”
Marc and Girard listened in as my aunt pointed out the obvious landmines in etiquette and conversation. I couldn’t tell if the two men were horrified, fascinated, or a mixture of both. My aunt spared no details and, as much as I wanted to interrupt or protest, she told no lies.
“Are they expecting a marriage proposal?” Marc asked.
“Vanessa has never gone on a second date before you. Of course they are. No matter what you do, just tell them, firmly, that it’s between you and her.”
“I mean, I’m not ruling it out in the future, but we need more time.” He turned to me and grinned. “It’ll be nice to spend more time together.”
I poked his shoulder. “In Shanghai, if you survive my family.”
A red thread appeared, winding its way from his heart to mine. It glowed and shimmered, matching the brightness of the one between Aunt Evelyn and Girard. My thread was thin in comparison to theirs, the width of one of Auntie Ning’s chunky yarns for her crochet projects. It didn’t matter how it looked, I only cared that it was there.
I loved this man and he loved me. For the girl who grew up devouring romance novels, I finally had a chance to write my own.
Destiny was mine to shape. Love was the only business I wanted to be in. There was no greater cause than giving people the joy of finding their soul mates.
Epilogue
One year later, in Paris
Le Papillon Bleu was busier than I remembered. Marc and I walked up to the mosaic mural of the blue butterflies hand in hand. We landed in Paris the night before, and settled into a nearby hotel. The jet lag wasn’t as horrible as the last time I landed in the city.