“No problem,” replies Faith, who’s completely hidden from view. “It was easy with that Hoyer Lift device. I never saw one of those before today.”

“Easy, yeah, but you definitely need two people. I didn’t want to ask Anna. She’s been so airheaded lately that she might have dropped him,” Priscilla says, and there’s a bite in her tone that makes me stiffen. I have to clench my teeth together to keep myself from defending Anna.

“You’re so tough on her,” Faith says, and I want to hug her in gratitude.

“Maybe I am, but I expect a lot from people. You don’t think I’m tough on myself, too?” Priscilla asks.

“I know you’re toughest on yourself.”

Priscilla’s hand lifts, and the end of her cigarette flares ember red as she draws on it. A fresh cloud of smoke wafts my way. “I quit my job while I was in New York.”

“What? Why? I thought you loved your job.”

“I’ve been due for a promotion for three years, and they just gave it to this new guy who took over my projects while I’ve been here. I had to fly to New York to fix his problems, and they promoted him over me. Fuck them. I might sue.”

“That’s horrible,” Faith says. “I can’t even imagine that on top of everything else you’re going through. Have you ever thought of trying therapy?”

Priscilla laughs bitterly. “Yeah, right. Anna went to therapy and now she thinks she’s autistic. What a load of crap. Not for me, thanks.”

There’s a pause before Faith muses, “Anna might be autistic?”

Priscilla makes a scoffing sound. “No.”

“I don’t know. She was such a weird kid, so quiet. I don’t think she had a single friend when—”

“I’m not listening to this,” Priscilla says.

“Oh, come on, you don’t think—” Something drops and shatters into pieces on the sidewalk directly in my line of sight. “Crap.”

Instead of running away to avoid being seen—the hell with that—I step forward. “Need help with that?”

Priscilla and this Faith whom I’ve never met jump in surprise.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” I say.

“You must be Quan,” Faith says as a huge grin takes over her face. “I’ve been wanting to meet you. I’m Faith.” She steps toward me like she wants to shake hands, but glass crunches beneath her shoe.

“Nice to meet you,” I say as I come forward and crouch down to gather up the broken pieces of glass. The champagne flute is still mostly intact, so I put all the shards inside it. When I’m done, there’s nothing but a wet spot left from the champagne.

Priscilla takes it from me with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thanks, Quan. You must have come to see Anna.”

Before I can say yes and apologize for showing up uninvited, Faith grabs hold of my arm enthusiastically. “She’s out back. She’ll be so happy to see you. Come on, let me take you there.”

Priscilla looks like she wants to say something, but in the end, all she does is aim a nauseated-looking smile at me as Faith leads me around the side of the house, past the garbage bins, where Priscilla chucks the broken glass, and to the backyard.

I can hear the people before I see them, laughing, talking, coughing, screaming (there is one very pissed-off little kid here). When we round the corner, it takes me a second to process it all. It looks like they’re celebrating a wedding, not a birthday.

“Let’s see here. Where is she?” Faith says as she scans the crowd.

Someone says, “There’s Priscilla,” and soon her mom waves at her, summoning her toward a table on the far side of the tent where her dad is sitting in a wheelchair.

“I have to go. Feel free to eat and drink. The bar’s right there,” Priscilla says, pointing to a nearby corner where there’s a short line of people waiting for drinks before heading away.

I’m about to thank her when a loud clanging draws everyone’s attention to a good-looking guy who’s banging a fork against his wineglass. “Attention, please, everyone. Attention,” he calls out.

Anna is next to him. She’s wearing a simple black dress, and her long hair is down. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I step toward her just as the dude sets down his fork and takes her by the hand.

A friend of hers?

No, that guy’s body language doesn’t say “friend.” I don’t like that guy’s body language at all, not while he’s holding my girlfriend’s hand.

“First, I wanted to wish Xin Bobo a happy birthday,” he says as he lifts his wineglass toward Anna’s old man.

At the table with Priscilla and Anna’s dad, Anna’s mom pats her husband’s shoulder before smiling graciously and lifting her champagne flute.

“Zhu Xin Bobo shengri kuaile,” the guy says before drinking from his glass, along with everyone else in the tent. “Next, since everyone’s gathered here, I wanted to share some news with you all.”

I go completely still. My feet feel like they suddenly weigh a thousand pounds. This can’t be what it looks like.

“Who is that guy?” I ask Faith in a low whisper.

She looks at me with wide eyes and lifts her hand away from her mouth to say, “Julian.”

My heart stops beating as I stare at Anna’s face and try to read the situation. She’s smiling up at that piece of shit, hanging on his every word. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes sparkling. So fucking gorgeous.

“Anna and I are getting married,” Julian announces.

THIRTY-THREE

Anna

“WE HAVEN’T SET A DATE OR ANYTHING YET, BUT I THINK sooner is better than later so that the important people in our lives can attend. Isn’t that right, Anna?” Julian says.

For an inappropriate length of time, all I can do is gaze at him and smile. That’s the only outward reaction that feels acceptable when everyone is watching me.

Inside, I’m melting down.

He said we’re getting married. How is that possible? He never even proposed. If he had, I would have said no. I don’t love him. Right now, I might hate him.

Words pile up in my mouth, demanding to be spoken. Things like No, you misunderstood or We’re never getting married, and I’m not sorry.

But I see my mom press her hands to her chest as happy tears track down her face. Priscilla wipes her own tears away as she excitedly bends close to our dad’s ear, no doubt telling him about my upcoming nuptials. Julian’s mom smiles at me like this is the happiest moment of her life.

And I can’t do it. Not in front of an audience.

Later, I tell myself. I’ll do it later. When it’s quiet, when there aren’t people all around, when I’ve had time, when I’ve caught my breath, when my head doesn’t feel like it’s exploding.

I find my voice, and I say, “Yes.”

Applause breaks out, loud whistling. Silverware clinks against glasses, and Julian smiles at me, looking like I’ve given him the moon. As he leans down to kiss me, my peripheral vision catches sight of a familiar face.

Quan.