The Bride Test (The Kiss Quotient 2)

His mom coughed noisily. Esme broke the kiss and tried to step back, but Kh?i’s arms tightened around her.

“Where have you been?” he asked.

“I got an apartment close by.”

He went motionless. “You’re . . . moving out?”

She hesitated for a second before nodding.

“I don’t see why you can’t stay with me. Like before. We don’t have to—” He released a frustrated breath, looked out the front window, and grimaced. “This is not the best neighborhood.”

His disdain for the area made her muscles stiffen. “It’s fine.” The people weren’t as rich here, but that didn’t mean they were bad. They were a lot like her, to be honest. She pushed against his chest, and he reluctantly let her go.

“It’s really not fine. The crime stats in my neighborhood are lower. You should come back.”

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

He raked a hand through his hair and took a half step toward her. “You were fine at my place until recently. Why can’t—”

“Do you love me?” she asked softly, giving him a chance to change everything.

He clenched his jaw tight and clasped her hands in his. “I can keep you safe, and I can carry you when you’re hurt, and I can . . .” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “I can kiss you like it’s the first time every time. I can—I can . . .” His expression went determined. “I can work with you on the lawn. I can even get it professionally done. I can fix up the house for you. If you want. Whatever kind of wedding you want, I can—”

“Kh?i,” she said firmly. “Do you love me?”

His eyes fell shut, and the fight leaked out of him. “No, I don’t.”

She blinked back tears, pulled her hands away from him, and continued packing the sugar boxes. Three pink packets. Three blue packets. She wasn’t going to fall apart. She wasn’t going to fall apart. “You should go. You will be late for work.”

He took a long, uneven breath. “Good-bye, then.”

She forced a smile. “Have a nice day.”

He leaned forward like he had every intention of kissing her, and for a moment, she was going to let him. She could almost feel the softness of his lips on hers, almost taste him. She turned her face to the side at the last second, and after hesitating briefly, he backed away.

“Bye, Mom.” He waved at Cô Nga.

And then he was gone.

Esme’s shoulders slumped, and she watched his silver Porsche speed from the parking lot through blurred eyes. Sadness swelled and dragged, and she was vaguely amazed she managed to stay standing. Look how strong she was. She could handle this. He was just another man.

Cô Nga came and sat down in the booth, looking shell-shocked and defeated. “I don’t understand when he’s like this. He prefers you, I can tell. It’s clear as daytime. Why did he say that? I don’t know.”

Saying nothing, Esme focused on the sugar packets. She stuffed one last packet into the black box, placed it against the wall next to the sriracha, hoisin, and chili sauce, and moved to the next booth. As she picked up the white sugar packets, however, wet droplets splashed onto the paper. She wiped it on her shirt and got out a new packet, but she got that one wet, too.

“Here, here, here.” Cô Nga pulled her into a hug. “Here, here, Precious Girl.”

Her control snapped, and hard sobs wracked her. She wasn’t that strong, after all. “I’m sorry,” Esme said. “I’m not your ‘precious girl’ anymore. I tried. But then I fell in love with him, and I can’t be with him when it’s like this. I’ll break.”

Everyone deserved to love and be loved back. Everyone. Even her.

Cô Nga rubbed Esme’s back like she was shredding carrots. “Here, here, you’ll always be my Precious Girl. Always.”

Esme hugged her tighter before she swiped a sleeve over her face. “I would have liked to have you as my mother-in-law.”

Cô Nga patted her cheek, watching her with sad, wise eyes. Then she got her phone out of her apron and held it as far away as possible as she squinted at the screen, selected a phone number to call, and put it on speaker.

After a series of rings, Quân picked up, asking in a distracted tone, “Hi, Mom, how are you?”