At that moment, Esme became horribly conscious of the attention focused on them, hundreds of curious eyes. “Má, let’s go somewhere private. He can say it there, and—”
“No, here, where everyone can see,” her mom demanded in a steely voice, standing up to him despite the gigantic gap in their wealth and education levels. “My daughter was good to you, and you broke her heart. What do you have to say?”
He flinched and let his gaze roam over the crowd, and Esme knew he hated their attention as much as she did. Eventually, however, he focused on her again, stepped forward, and spoke.
“Anh yêu em.”
She drew in a silent breath and covered her mouth, too shocked to speak, to do anything. Even in her wildest dreams, he told her in English.
He took another step toward her, and another, until they were a mere arm’s length apart. Looking at her like she was everything, he said, “I love you. I told myself I didn’t. Because I was afraid to lose someone again, and I doubted myself, and I wanted only the best for you. But the feeling has gotten too big to deny. My heart works in a different way, but it’s yours. You’re my one.”
He motioned toward Gleaves and Quan, and both men stood up straighter.
“You have options now. You don’t have to marry if you don’t want to. Now that we’ve found your dad, your paperwork will be easy—well, easier. But if you do want to marry …” He breathed in deep and fell to one knee. “Marry me. And not just for three years, but for keeps.” He patted at his pockets and grimaced. “I forgot your ring, but I swear I got you one. It’s nice. You can probably cut windows with it if—” He cleared his throat and looked at her with melting softness. “Will you marry me? If you still love me?”
Her heart filled and filled and filled until her eyes blurred over with tears. “I will always love you.”
“Is that a yes?” he asked.
She handed the bouquet to her mom and pulled him to his feet. “I do not have to, but, yes, I will marry you.”
His biggest grin stretched over his face, with dimples, and before all the wedding guests, he drew her close and kissed her like the first time. Lips to lips, hearts melting together, no distance between them, not even an arm’s length.
EPILOGUE
Four years later
The sun beat down on Khai as he sat on the bleachers in Stanford University’s outdoor stadium, waiting as students in gowns and square hats marched across the stage far below. Jade had been excited an hour ago, but now she occupied herself by reading from a chapter book with some manner of magical she-warrior on the cover. From time to time, Khai’s mom dug slices of peeled Asian pear from her purse and handed them to her, and Jade absently gobbled them down as her eyes scanned the words on the page at a greedy clip.
“My Ngoc Tran, summa cum laude,” the announcer called out.
Khai and their entire row of family jumped to their feet and cheered. During the naturalization process, she’d chosen to use her Vietnamese name on all official documents. He was the only one who called her Esme now, and he liked that.
Esme waved at them from the stage, and when she blew a kiss in their direction, Khai knew it was just for him. Jade didn’t like kisses anymore—he missed it a little if he was being honest—but she was more interesting to talk to now.
After all the students’ names had been called out, they went to meet Esme at a prearranged spot on campus. The second she saw them, she split from her friends and ran to hug and kiss him.
“I’m all done,” she said, grinning in a way that still scrambled his brain after four years with her.
“Not really,” he said. “You still have approximately six years before you get your PhD in international finance.” The way she explained it, she wanted to solve the big problems in this world, and they all revolved around money.