Page 21 of Shadowing You

Still, Mei Lin hadn’t emerged from the bathroom. He’d heard the shower turn off and the louder spigot in the tub turn on. It had run for a few minutes, then cut off.

He grabbed the sack of clothes and knocked on the bathroom door. “No rush, sweetheart. The food’s here, and I’m leaving clothes for you outside the door.”

“I’m coming.”

“Take your time.” He set down the items and returned to the kitchen to wait.

Mei Lin hurried, though. She came into the kitchen barefoot, and though it was midday, she wore the pajamas he’d chosen—pink with cartoon cats, which he’d thought might make her smile.

She used to be a cat person. Surely, that hadn’t changed.

Her hair was damp. She was clean, but all the soap in the world couldn’t wipe away the dark smudges beneath her eyes.

“Here.” He pulled out a chair, and when she’d settled into it, served her a plateful of noodles, rice, chicken, and vegetables.

Her eyes widened. “This is much food. Thank you.”

“Smells good enough to eat, right?”

“Yes. Very good. Thank you.”

He sighed.

Where had his wife gone? Was she still in there somewhere?

He fixed himself a plate and sat across from her. He was terrible at chopsticks but thought he’d try. She used to tease him about his lack of coordination.

Good thing you didn’t want to be a surgeon, Dr. America.

He’d hoped to make her smile, but she barely looked up. After a few bites, she set the chopsticks down and stared at the table as if she’d forgotten what she was supposed to be doing.

“Mei Lin?”

“I’m sorry.” She picked up her chopsticks again. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. If you’re full⁠—”

“I will eat. You bought the food. I will eat.” She took another bite of the noodles, then a piece of chicken. Then, the chopsticks went still again, and her eyes drifted shut.

“We’ll save the rest for later.” He stood and tugged on her chair. “Come on. Up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop—” He cut the rebuke off. “Let’s just rest, okay?”

She let him pull her to her feet and walk her to the bedroom at the end of the hall. He pulled the covers back and watched as she settled, already half asleep.

He bent and kissed her forehead.

She stilled, eyes opening wide.

“Sleep, sweetheart,” he said. “Just sleep.”

When her eyes closed again, he adjusted the blinds to keep out the light. Her breathing had already evened out.

At least she trusted him enough to rest in his presence. But that didn’t negate everything else he’d seen.

She’d asked permission to take a shower. She’d apologized for not eating. She’d watched him as if waiting for a reprimand, or worse.