Love Stays in the Past, She Walks Toward Tomorrow

Xavier Delgado has Asperger's.

He doesn't know how to love someone.

Six years together, and I got used to his coldness, his indifference.

Until I saw a file on his computer.

The file was called Beloved List.

I opened it, and it was packed with Cicely Butler's name, line after line.

Send Cicely abroad to study.

Buy Cicely a house.

Video-call Cicely every night.

Each item got a checkmark once it was done.

One line was highlighted in yellow: No matter what happens, Cicely comes first.

I sat there a long time, until my eyes burned, before I closed the computer.

So it wasn't that he didn't understand love.

His love just never stirred for me.

By morning, I'd sent my mentor a reply.

Professor, I'm willing to join the "Nine Heavens" project.

Professor Whitmore: Joining the team means erasing your identity, and no contact with the outside world for five years. If you've made up your mind, I'll submit the application today.

He confirmed it once more: You really don't want your boyfriend anymore?

No. I don't.

Six years. Even a stone would've warmed up by now.

I'm just done. I can't love anymore.

At four in the morning, I got a call from Leslie Mann, Xavier's best friend.

"Ma'am, you'd better get down to the police station. Something happened to Xavier."

I took off my glasses and rubbed the space between my brows, worn out. "Half an hour."

I spent three minutes clearing the research papers off my desk, then went back to the bedroom to change into something to go out in.

On the other end, Leslie kept pushing. "Hurry, please! When Xavier loses it, you're the only one who can hold him back."

Irritated, I tossed the phone aside.

Before Cicely came back to the country, I never could have put the word "losing it" together with Xavier, because Xavier was calm and rational to a frightening degree.

I zoned out while cutting vegetables once and nearly took off half my palm. Xavier saw my white face and the blood all over the floor, and not a flicker crossed his expression. He called 911 for me and turned back into his room.

I got off work late one night and was too scared to go home alone, so I called and asked if he could come get me. Before I even finished, he cut me off, his voice cold. "Quinn Chandler, you're an adult. You should be capable of solving your own problems."

Then a homeless man followed me. I got help in time, but it left a deep mark on me. For a while I was afraid of the dark and couldn't walk anywhere at night.

When my father had a sudden heart attack and was rushed to the hospital, I begged Xavier to pull some strings, to get a specialist for my dad. He looked at me the way you'd look at a child who doesn't understand how the world works. "Quinn, everyone's life and death is fixed. There's no point forcing it. If they can't save your father, then it was simply his time."

That was also the fiercest fight we'd had in our whole relationship.

I smashed the figures he'd spent years collecting and stood in the wreckage, calling him cold-blooded and heartless.

His face went grim, but he never lost control. He bent down to pick up the broken pieces and said only four words to me.

Completely unreasonable.

Something jammed up hard in my chest, and in a burst of fury I screamed at him. "Xavier, we're through! I want to break up! You're just a robot with no feelings. You don't care about me, and you don't care about my family."

Maybe the word "break up" struck a nerve.

He stared at me a long time, expressionless, then his thin lips parted. "Suit yourself."

That same night I packed up and moved out.

The next afternoon, my dad was out of danger.

Louisa Delgado brought Xavier to the hospital to apologize to me.

She slapped him twice, right in front of me. "Xavier, Quinn is the person you're meant to spend your whole life with. How could you treat her like this!"

The clear marks of her fingers rose on his cheek, and the corner of his mouth split and beaded with blood.

He kept his lashes lowered, his face still blank.

"I'm sorry, Quinn."

Louisa held my hand and said every kind thing she could.

"Quinn, Xavier's been like this since he was a boy."

"It's not that he doesn't love you. He's just sick."

My mother urged me too.

"Mom can tell Xavier has you in his heart. Your dad likes him as a son-in-law too. Give him one more chance, and just talk through whatever the misunderstanding is."

I lost my head, and gave a small, faint nod.

On the way to the hospital, the cab driver asked, fishing for gossip, "Miss, heading to the police station in the middle of the night like this. Something happen to your family?"

I leaned against the window, distracted, and didn't answer.

He shifted awkwardly to another subject. "That club downtown, the hottest one, almost had a death tonight. A few thugs got drunk and cornered a female PhD, a returnee, in the restroom. Wanted her to spend the night with them."

"Her boyfriend caught on that something was wrong, charged in, and got into it with them. Those thugs were all bark and no bite. One of them ended up with several broken ribs. Nearly died right there."

A returnee.

A female PhD.

I sat up straight. My mind went, without my permission, to one person.

Cicely Butler.

The scholarship student Xavier sponsored.

And his... beloved.

Two days ago, I was helping one of my mentor's PhD students revise a paper. Halfway through, my computer died, and I had to message Xavier to borrow his.

He replied with a period.

That meant yes.

But when I walked into his study, I hit a problem.

There were two computers on the rosewood desk.

I didn't know which one to use, so I messaged Xavier again.

He took a few minutes to reply.

Quinn, have you lost even the most basic ability to make a decision?

I closed the chat and turned one of them on.

Xavier hadn't set a password.

Not because he was open with me, unguarded.

He'd made a rule.

Without his permission, I wasn't to enter his study, let alone touch anything of his.

Once it booted up, I saw a file called "Beloved List."

I thought of the promise he'd made in front of my parents.

He said he'd change. He'd try not to neglect me anymore.

I pressed a hand to my pounding chest and clicked in.

Then the smile froze on my face.

Six full pages. Over a thousand entries. Every one of them said "Cicely."

The name wasn't new to me.

I'd heard it from Xavier's mother many times.

"Cicely's such a credit to herself. I hear she got the full scholarship again this term. It seems Xavier was right to pick her out of all those kids to sponsor."

"My back was hurting the other day, and the moment Cicely found out she went and bought me a massage chair. Such a thoughtful girl. I only wish she were my own."

"I was on the phone with Cicely for over two hours today, international call. Every third word out of that girl's mouth is about her Xavier. Still as clingy as she was as a child."

The list was detailed.

What Cicely liked to eat, what she couldn't stand.

The dates of Cicely's period.

Cicely liked thunderstorms.

Cicely wobbled her head side to side when she ate something good.

...

Even the nail length Cicely preferred was written down, clear as anything.

I read it line by line to the end.

A film of water blurred my eyes.

It was too cruel a joke.

Six years with Xavier, and he didn't even know the date of my birthday, never mind any of my little habits.

I'd told him more than once that I was severely allergic to mango.

Yet every time he brought fruit home, there was mango in it.

I'd argued. I'd made a scene.

He said I was blowing things out of proportion.

He said, "Quinn, I have Asperger's. Managing to function like a normal person is hard enough. You can't force me to put all my attention on you."

Now I had my answer.

Cicely loved mango.

Xavier could remember every single thing she liked.

And couldn't be bothered with a single thing about me.

I sat there in front of the computer until the sky turned light.

I didn't cry.

I didn't go confront Xavier.

Because no matter what I did, he'd only look at me coldly, the way you'd look at a hysterical, out-and-out lunatic, and then say lightly, "Quinn, what exactly are you making a fuss about now?"

This time, I wouldn't make a fuss.

Three more days, and my identity would be erased.

By then I'd disappear from Xavier's life without a sound.

No need to break up.

No need to say goodbye.

Because Xavier didn't care.

I saw Xavier.

His left hand hung at his side, twisted at a wrong angle, and there were cuts and bruises all over his face and body.

The moment Leslie spotted me, it was like he'd found his salvation. He pulled me aside and lowered his voice. "Xavier got into a fight with some guys at the club. He still wanted to swing at them even after they got him to the police station."

I thought of what the driver had said, and pressed my lips together, saying nothing.

Leslie watched my face carefully. "It really isn't Xavier's fault. Those bastards were disgusting. A few drinks in and they stopped acting like human beings. They almost got Cicely"

I looked toward the corner.

Cicely stood there in a long white dress, her soft hair falling loose over her shoulders, her almond eyes brimming with tears. She looked so innocent, so wronged, the kind of picture that made anyone want to protect her.

Feeling my gaze, she bit her lower lip and came over to me, calling out timidly, "Quinn."

I ignored her and turned back to Leslie. "What did the police say?"

Leslie sighed. "It's tricky. Xavier might actually end up locked up."

Cicely spoke through a sob. "Quinn, it's all my fault."

I frowned, and before I could say anything, a figure stepped between me and Cicely.

It was Xavier.

His expression was cold. "Quinn, you scared Cicely."

I stated it plainly. "Xavier, I didn't say anything. I didn't do anything."

He didn't accept that. "Quinn, the way you were looking at Cicely was vicious, like you wanted to tear her to pieces. She's never wronged you. Tonight she's the victim."

How laughable.

I hadn't known that on top of being CEO of Delgado Group, Xavier was also an expert in micro-expressions, able to convict me just by reading my eyes.

A few of the thugs crouched on the floor had heard our exchange. The one in the middle, hair dyed blond, a blue dragon inked on his arm, gave me a grin full of malice.

"So you're this guy's girlfriend? I'll do you a favor and tell you something. Him and that woman in the white dress aren't clean. For all you know, they've already been rolling around in the same bed."

Hearing that, Xavier lost control again, his fists clenching, ready to swing.

Leslie's face went pale with panic. "Quinn, stop him, quick. If he hits anyone else he'll really be locked up for ten days, half a month."

An officer barked, "You want to throw another punch? Get back to your spot, now!"

Xavier didn't hear a word of it. His eyes were bloodshot, the pressure rolling off him so strong it made me think of a wild animal in the jungle guarding its mate.

Just as his fist was about to land on that thug, I said, low and hoarse, "Xavier."

He lowered his fist.

Leslie patted his own chest, still shaken. "Quinn, thank God you came."

A while later, Louisa arrived with a lawyer.

I don't know how the lawyer negotiated with the thugs, but half an hour later they all swore up and down that their injuries weren't from Xavier, that they'd simply fallen by accident.

A few minutes later, the whole group came out of the police station.

The thugs scanned some rental bikes and vanished in the blink of an eye.

Louisa's gaze passed over me and landed on Cicely, who had kept her head down and trembled the entire time.

"Cicely, the Delgado family funded your education so you could finish it, not so you could go to places like that club. And you're a doctorate holder. Instead of focusing on your research, you're losing yourself in nightlife. Do you think that's acceptable?"

Cicely's tears fell to the floor in fat drops, as if she'd suffered some enormous injustice.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Delgado. It won't happen again."

Seeing Cicely cry, something flickered in Xavier's eyes, panic and pity, and he pulled her behind him.

"Mom, don't say these things to Cicely."

"Going to the club tonight was my idea. She's spent these years abroad doing nothing but experiments and papers, never one easy day. I wanted her to feel less worn down."

Louisa's face darkened. "She's worn down? The moment she came back you overrode everyone's objections and handed her the vice president's position. That isn't enough?"

Mrs. Delgado finished speaking, then seemed to remember I was standing right there.

She smoothed her face into a warm smile and explained, "Quinn, don't take what I just said to heart. Times are hard right now, and the field Cicely studied doesn't lead to good jobs here. On top of that, Xavier's always treated her like a little sister, so he made an exception for her this once."

"It's late, Mrs. Delgado. You should go home and rest."

"All right."

She glanced sidelong at Cicely, her meaning unmistakable. "Quinn, whatever happens, the Delgado family recognizes only you as its daughter-in-law. As for any woman with schemes in her heart, she can forget about ever setting foot through the Delgado door."

I was a little surprised at how sharply Mrs. Delgado's attitude toward Cicely had turned.

Though, thinking it over, it made sense.

Cicely's intentions were obvious.

Anyone with eyes could see them.

When a woman plays sweet and helpless in front of a man, it's usually for one of two reasons.

To win his sympathy.

To capture his heart.

And Cicely, plainly, wanted both.

Besides, tonight Cicely had nearly left a stain on the son Mrs. Delgado was proudest of. There was no way she'd have a kind face for her.

Mrs. Delgado got into the car.

Leslie stretched through a yawn. "Xavier, Quinn, I'm dead on my feet. I'm heading out first. And Cicely, take it easy, okay? Don't torture yourself over this. Xavier and I will find another time to take you out, get everyone together."

That left just me, Xavier, and Cicely outside the police station.

After a short silence, Xavier said, "Cicely just got back to the country and hasn't found a place yet. She'll stay with us for now."

"Whatever."

The moment we got home, Xavier registered Cicely's fingerprint, then took a still-wrapped pair of women's slippers from the shoe cabinet and crouched down to change her shoes for her.

"Take your time finding a place, Cicely. This is your home. Stay as long as you want."

"Thank you, Xavier. But if I just move in like this, won't your fiance mind?"

Before I could say a word, Xavier answered for me. "The place is mine. On what Quinn earns, she could work her whole life and still never afford an apartment in New York."

Cicely's eyes curved into a smile.

"Xavier, Leslie told me you and your fiance are getting married soon. I thought you'd put her name on the deed. I guess I was reading too much into it."

Xavier stood and tapped Cicely on the nose, indulgent.

"She doesn't care about that. You're the one who's never felt secure, ever since you were little."

He ruffled her hair twice.

"Cicely, I've been thinking. It isn't safe for a girl to be renting out there on her own. I'll find some time to sign this place over to you. If you don't like the way it's decorated, redo it. I'll pay."

Cicely lit up, delighted. "Xavier, do you mean it? My luck is unbelievable. A whole apartment without having to work for it, and in New York, where land costs a fortune. I'm so happy, Xavier."

I went into the bedroom with a cold face.

A few minutes later, Cicely knocked on my door.

"Quinn, someone's calling for you."

Only then did I remember I'd left my phone on the couch in the living room.

When I came out, Xavier was standing there with my phone against his ear.

"Sir, ma'am, please stop mailing Quinn all these pickles and pickled peppers. They stink up the whole refrigerator. It's nauseating. And besides, Quinn's lived in New York long enough. It's time she dropped the small-town eating habits."

"And don't come to New York either. There's no place for you to stay."

I walked over and snatched the phone from him, then went out to the balcony to take the call under Xavier's icy stare.

When I came back in, the living room reeked of spicy noodle soup.

Quinn was eating from a small bowl.

Xavier had a large one.

How very fitting.

Now the smell didn't bother him at all.

I went back to the bedroom and pulled out the suitcase I'd already packed.

The wheels rolled loud over the floor.

Xavier kept eating, listening to Cicely talk.

He didn't spare me so much as a glance.

Only when I reached the entryway did I hear his voice, without a trace of feeling in it.

"Come back on your own when you're done throwing your fit, Quinn."

"I'm not coming back, Xavier."