Rent a Boyfriend - Gloria Chao Page 0,59

a step above what I was really thinking—how my attendance today was a giant leap forward on the rebellion road. I couldn’t stop replaying Yilong’s voicemail in my head, squeaky voice and all.

I leaned my head on his shoulder and he held my hand, stroking my thumb the entire ride.

The church we pulled up to had red lanterns, balloons, and double happiness symbols lining the entrance. Yup, we were in the right place, all right. There was even a red carpet—shaggy and stained, but a red carpet nonetheless.

The sanctuary was already half full. The guests mingled, introducing themselves and asking one another how they knew the bride or groom. Did they know what today meant? That in a few hours, Xing would cross the Lu-family bridge and burn it?

The laughter and chatter bubbled up around me, increasing in volume as time ticked on.

No one knew.

It’s a celebration, I scolded myself. I hated that I needed the reminder. I tried to focus on the red streamers lining the pews, the rè’nào buzz of the room, and the handsome man beside me.

Xing entered, and his face lit up when he saw me. We hugged, less awkward than the last few times, and I introduced Darren. Xing gave him a brotherly glower but skipped the protective speech (thank God).

On our way to the front, Xing leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Thanks for everything, Mei-ball—your support, your wisdom. You helped me through an impossible time, and in some ways, you helped me get to this day. I can’t tell you what having you here means to me.”

It was the most he’d ever expressed, and I widened my eyes, hoping to dry the tears before they fell. I wasn’t sure if they were there because I was happy for him or sad at what this day meant. I wasn’t even sure how I felt about the role I’d played.

Xing ushered Darren and me into the front pew, labeled LU FAMILY. The rest of the empty bench screamed Mom and Dad aren’t coming!

Across the aisle stood a man and a woman, both rigid as a board, who I presumed were Esther’s parents. They made their way over with tight-lipped smiles on their lined faces, and Xing bowed to his future in-laws before making proper introductions.

I mimicked his bow for no reason. Maybe I felt the need to make up for my parents’ treatment of Esther. I could hear my mother yelling in my head about how Mr. and Mrs. Wong owed her a dowry—a huge one since Esther was so flawed. Practically a man.

“Mrs. Wong, what a beautiful dress you’re wearing,” Darren said.

She straightened her dark silver gown. “It was difficult to find Chinese formalwear without black flowers, which of course is forbidden since it brings bad luck.”

I took a quick survey, locating five black-flowered dresses within ten seconds.

Mrs. Wong’s gaze followed mine. “Oh, no, it’s okay for others. It’s forbidden only for the bride’s mother.”

I forced a smile and nodded, then turned to Esther’s father. “Mr. Wong, shouldn’t you go back and get ready to walk Esther down the aisle?”

He stiffened, then said through pursed lips, “It’s tradition for the most blessed and fortunate woman in the neighborhood to walk the bride down the aisle. Elder Wu will have that honor. She has one son and one daughter, both of whom are successful. A CEO and a doctor. She flew in from Taichung this morning.”

I thought I had experienced it all, but in the span of three minutes I had learned two new traditions that blew even my mind. The strangest part was that Xing had led me to believe Esther’s parents were more like Helen’s. During one of our visits, he had told me, tight-eyed and stiff-jawed, about how Esther’s “super-chill” parents had let her dye her hair, listen to rap, date. It had only emphasized to him just how strict our parents were, making him resent them more.

But it wasn’t so black-and-white, was it? Maybe the only lesson here was that I needed to stop comparing everyone.

When the pastor took his place at the lectern, I bowed to Esther’s parents, thankful for the interruption.

In our glaringly unfilled pew, I crossed my legs, hoping to calm the gnawing in my stomach. The numbness that prickled down my calf reminded me of my mother manipulating my limbs into this pose.

I uncrossed, accidentally kicking Darren with the bit of anger that shot out. In a silent apology, I placed my hands on his thigh,