“I’m sorry.” I hated myself. Whenever I had these kinds of discussions with my parents—about Hongbo, about my decisions, about our goddamn family name—I floated up out of my body and judged the Jing-Jing who swallowed her true thoughts and apologized like a pathetic loser. Except you do it to protect their feelings, to make everything easier on them, which could be considered noble, I heard Drew say in my head, but to me it felt cowardly. I hated what I became with them—so small everyone walked all over me. Soon I’d be so squished into the sidewalk I’d disappear.

“I know Hongbo messes around,” she continued, “and it does bother me that he goes to strip clubs so often, and so openly. But I thought maybe that was good, and you wouldn’t feel like you had to do… woman duties with him. That you could just use his money and enjoy your life.”

What could I say to that? Where to even start? The sexist, violent, completely fucked-up idea of “woman duties”? Or the other ten messed-up things she’d just said?

She cleared her throat. “Well, that ship is bye-bye, so”—she waved her hands at metaphorical Hongbo sailing off—“I’m happy to hear Andrew isn’t pressuring you.”

And for a moment I felt the window opening, and I practiced a few ways to tell her.

No, he doesn’t—he’s a good guy. He may not be exactly who he said he was, but he’s not all that different.

Yes, he’s great, and just because he’s an artist doesn’t change that part of him.

Except, in order to tell her about him, I had to first reveal how I had lied and schemed to get Hongbo out of my life. Which would make her explode. And then I’d have to answer her barrage of questions about the real Drew—artist, operative, estranged-from-his-family Drew—which would make her exploded pieces explode.

Sweat pooled in all my bodily crevices and I had to breathe deeply to keep from passing out.

My mother didn’t notice and stood.

“No doing the sex, okay, Jing-Jing? I’ll trust you for now, but I’m also not above making an appointment for you with Dr. Tsai to check your hymee.”

“Jesus Christ,” I managed to exclaim just before she turned the corner into the kitchen.

Chloe CHAPTER 54 PICKLE

My mother made herself scarce the rest of the afternoon, staying upstairs with my father, and they only emerged, I presumed, because they grew too hungry.