The Twenty-Two Gifts

Adrian began appearing often.

Too often to be coincidence.

He invited me to meals.

Peeled shrimp for me.

Told ridiculous jokes.

Once, at a hotpot restaurant, when the staff started dancing, he joined them with absurd seriousness.

I laughed until my stomach hurt.

I thought I had forgotten how.

Adrian had always been joyful.

Warm.

A little shameless.

And somehow, with him, breathing became easier.

When he learned I wanted to study jewelry design, he introduced me to his aunt, Gu Lin, one of the top jewelry designers in the country.

I became her student.

Adrian brought me food.

Small surprises.

He took me to barbecue.

To fireworks.

One night, beneath the bursting lights, his fingers hooked my pinky.

I looked down and smiled.

He leaned closer and kissed my forehead.

“Mia,” he said, eyes full of tenderness, “I will love you forever.”

I touched his face.

“Forever is too long. Promises expire too easily.”

His expression softened with pain.

“I’m not a little girl anymore,” I said. “I don’t believe love naturally happens to good women.”

The world does not reward beauty, kindness, or money with true love.

I had learned that.

Now, if someone loved me ten points, I might return three.

Never again would I burn my entire self for a man who used my warmth to light another woman’s room.

Adrian took my hand.

“I’ve never dated anyone.”

I froze.

“I was waiting for you.”

He told me then.

Years ago, when he heard I was getting married, he returned to stop me.

But he got into a car accident.

He could not come.

So he sent twenty-two birthday gifts to my wedding.

Late gifts for every birthday he had missed.

“After that, every year, I sent one more,” he said. “If you had been happy, I would never have disturbed you.”

My chest trembled.

The twenty-two gifts.

I remembered them.

On my wedding day, someone anonymously sent twenty-two gifts.

Every single one was something I loved.

I had thought Lucas gave them to me.

When I asked, he hesitated at first.

Then accepted the credit.

My eyes burned.

“You idiot,” I whispered. “Why tell me only now?”

Adrian’s lips tightened.

“Lucas really is a bastard.”

I threw myself into his arms.

It turned out someone had loved me quietly all along.

Not for my money.

Not for my usefulness.

Just me.

That night, under the right atmosphere and too many unsaid years, we kissed.

For the first time after divorce, I felt alive.