Rent a Boyfriend - Gloria Chao Page 0,60

landing much higher than intended.

Jesus.

Sensing my inner (and outer) flailing, Darren draped his arm across the back of the bench, his fingers caressing my shoulder. Finally feeling safe, I curled up against him.

Xing stood at the front, dapper in his black suit and red pocket square. He caught my eye and smiled, the kind shared by two people bonded for life. My nose burned the way it always did pre-sentimental tears. I nodded to communicate my understanding, to signal I was here for him, to tell him in one sharp movement what I could never say aloud.

The ring bearer carried a stuffed Doraemon down the aisle, the rings tied to its blue, earless head. The doll was almost the same size as him, and by the end he was dragging it behind his pìgu until his mother rushed up to help. The bridesmaids were clones of one another in matching knee-length red dresses and sky-high charcoal heels that made them hobble down the aisle like little girls playing dress-up.

Xing fixated on his bride as soon as she and Elder Wu were visible. Instead of looking at Esther like every other guest, I was drawn to my brother. His eyes glowed as if he had seen an angel.

How could anyone oppose this union? Staring at him in that moment, I couldn’t fathom a world in which Xing had chosen our parents over Esther.

I thought about my mom and dad’s relationship. A lifetime of arguments, a lack of affection, no communication. Stifled by the predetermined husband, wife, and in-law roles, the unyielding expectations. Xing had escaped that—at a price, but a sacrifice worth making.

Esther’s veil was over her face, but her joy shined through the silk as she locked eyes with her soon-to-be husband. The moment was so private, the exchange so intimate, that it felt wrong for the rest of us to be present, watching.

The tulle of Esther’s ball gown devoured her, an odd choice for someone so petite—or was that just my mother’s influence seeping into my brain? She’d always had an if-you’ve-got-a-low-BMI-flaunt-it attitude.

I glanced at Esther’s father, whose pinched face betrayed his true feelings about not walking his daughter down the aisle. I wondered why they followed a custom they so obviously despised. Would it have been so terrible for Mr. Wong to accompany Esther?

Yes, I realized. To them it would have been disastrous. By pushing aside their feelings and bringing Elder Wu, the Wongs believed they were bestowing a lifetime of blessings onto their daughter. They’d made a selfless choice. Ridiculous, maybe, but selfless nonetheless.

At the front, Xing wiped his eyes with the back of his hand before lifting the veil. Esther bowed to Elder Wu and an usher led the hunchbacked woman to an empty seat. Holding one finger up to Xing and flashing him a playful smile, Esther dashed to her parents and embraced them. I watched them hug with total abandon, her parents squeezing with their eyes closed. None of the Lus know how to do that, I thought.

But then Xing stepped forward to hug the Wongs as well. No awkwardness. Only warmth. As if it were the hundredth time. Mr. Wong whispered something in Xing’s ear, then patted him on the back.

Tradition dictated that women leave their families to join the male’s in marriage, but the opposite had happened today as a result of tradition. How ironic.

My breath hitched as I wondered whether my parents would be present when (if?) I walked down the aisle. Would I have to ask Xing to take their place, as I was doing for him? Could they really let a moment like this pass?

My gaze fell to the empty space on my right.

The pastor raised his arms and the guests rose.

“I will magnify You . . . I will glorify You . . . ,” everyone sang.

Well, everyone else sang. I wasn’t familiar with the Christian praise song. Xing and I had been raised Buddhist, with idols around the house and yearly visits to the temples. I was glad my parents weren’t present to storm out in protest.

Once the guests were seated again, the pastor began his monologue. In Mandarin. I peeked over at Darren, but his lips were curved slightly and he appeared to be appreciating the beauty of the language. I wondered what it sounded like to his ears. He heard sounds, while I heard words, sentences, meaning.

His serene face relaxed my own, and I directed my attention up front. I was finally ready to be