The Way Back | ✓

1.7

note: hello lovelies! It's been a while since I've actually written and I'm so glad I have stock chapters to keep updating for you guys. I've written a total of 1022 words so far this December and uni + exams is all to blame for this. But, if you follow me on twitter you will know that my FINALS SEASON IS OVER!! 

Those of you who are Imperial Compass readers, look out for an update because ya girl is back to writing it! (lol, did I subtly self-promote there? yes, yes I did) 

This is the penultimate chapter to Part I. Enjoy! 

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The first thing to register in Andrew Cai's mind was that his back was sore. It only took him a few more seconds to register that he was laying down on hard concrete. His eyes shot open and he sprung up. The pain was instantaneous and regret flooded him as he closed his eyes again and rubbed his temples.

Where the hell was he?

The sun was glaring from up above, his ears filled with the noise of morning traffic and frenzy bodies rushed past him. When he reopened his eyes he found some people by the pedestrian crossing eyeing him strangely and it was then that the realisation clicked and all came flooding back.

If Andrew Cai had the leisure of time he would have stopped for coffee and let himself feel humiliated by the events of the previous night. Luckily for him — or rather unluckily — he was running late for work.

His appearance made people assume that he'd had a wild night. Some of his colleagues at the office even laughed during lunch break or even when they had to consult him about a few contracts and agreements. They had clapped him on the back and commented on how lucky he was to get some action on such a busy week. His divorce was not mentioned but he knew they were thinking it so he did nothing but greet them and smile like he always did, trying to keep his sole attention on the pile of work on his desk. He just wished his office door would stop opening and that no one needed him today.

The pounding headache he had surely didn't help matters.

As soon as it hit five in the evening, he shut down his computer, put down his pen and shrugged on his blazer, grabbing his car keys from his desk and quickly shut his office door behind him, calling out to anyone that needed him to leave their questions at Brian's desk or in his email and he'd address them first thing in the morning.

He should have known better than to go back to his parent's place but he had no change of clothes and he desperately needed a shower. It was a miracle that someone didn't make a comment of how much he reeked.

"Where have you been, Andrew?" his mother greeted, ever so lovingly, when she opened the door. "I've called you a hundred times!"

"Don't exaggerate, Mama," he sighed, removing his shoes before placing them in the rack. "My phone died. I'm all right as you can see." That was a lie. His phone had not died and he most certainly was not all right.

"Excuse me?" his mother echoed once he'd given his back to her, clearly offended by the tone he had used on her. Having Meiling Cai as his mother for the last twenty nine years of his life should have taught him that, living with his mother or not, that he was never to ever speak to her in that manner.

His shoulders sagged. He could easily retort but he was in no mood to argue. All he wanted to do was rest. His body ached, every fibre of it begging to fall asleep against a plush surface. His body called for the bed.

"Duibuqi, Mama," he sighed, offering her a small smile. "I'm just really tired."

Her scowl deepened into a frown. She took a step forward and cupped his cheeks with her hands. "Is it Talia? Have you talked to her? Will you two be getting back together?" she asked, her eyes glinting with hope.

It was no secret that Meiling Cai disliked Talia but when Andrew had eloped with her there was nothing his mother could do but give the couple a respectable wedding — one where every single family member was invited. Even those he never knew existed till that day but if they were related to the Cai family, one way or another Meiling would worm them onto the list of invites she had to send out. The wedding was huge, it was grand, and to watch all that money go down the drain because Talia was stupid enough to cheat on Andrew seemed so delirious in her eyes. Andrew knew his mother's thoughts — it wasn't like she kept them to herself anyway.

The only reason why her eyes glowed with hope now was because the news of a divorce was rather a shameful one. His parents themselves have not been an entirely happy couple. They might seem so on the outside but not so much when all the doors are closed. Divorce was a word that never existed in their vocabulary until Andrew's situation came along and even then they found it a struggle to grasp the spelling and meaning behind the strange, oh-so foreign word.

"Not yet," he said, allowing for his disappointment to layer through his voice. He was exhausted and what use was hiding this from his mother. It would find her somehow. "I don't really think we can work it out this time. Her unfaithfulness was the last straw and it was her that called the divorce. There's no fixing this. Not this time."

She frowned, unsatisfied with the answer. "You worked it out before. Several times. Why is this time different?"

"She cheated!" he burst, betrayal churning within him, an ugly shade peeling off it's layers. He felt his eyes burn, his heart ache. "This time is different because I'm done. Because I am tired of fighting. I am tired of pretending that everything is alright because it's not. I'm tired of waking up to the woman whom I used to love and still do, but when I look at her I just see someone that's wearing my patience thin, that I am no longer happy to be with. She's driving me insane. I'm tired, Mama. Wo leile."

"How can you give up on your daughter that easily? Does Aurora not deserve more?"

It took everything in Andrew not to break down in front of his mother. Anger swelled within him, exhaustion swept through him, and yet without falling into it's arm he pushed his emotions back and swallowed hard.

"Wo leile," he repeated, sighing as he hung his head.

It was silent only got a brief moment until his mother smoothened his hair with her hands, pulling away and saying, "Go on and change. I'll get dinner ready."

He knew better than to tell her that all he wanted to do was sleep. This was what his mother used to do when he lived with her, before he moved in with Talia, before he eloped and before his entire life flipped over. Her way of showing she felt bad about bringing up a topic that Andrew wished not to discuss was always to offer a plate of one of his favourite dishes to him.

That night she made dumplings in a warm chicken broth that oddly made him think of London. He'd met her for the second time, just yesterday, after having a small chicken meal and drinking his anguish away. Perhaps it was a cosmic force that pulled him to that restaurant last night and while that was unfortunate because London had only more reason to keep her distance from him, he was thankful for it. It conceivably was the same cosmic force that pulled him yet again that following morning towards the cemetery he'd been to just yesterday, a fresh set of flowers in his hand — a replica of the expensive tulips that he'd ruined. He placed the other bouquet, soft pink flowers, on his aunt's grave and stayed in the quiet, blessing his aunt's soul though he mostly had resented his aunt. Unfortunately blood made family.

And then, in quiet early morning, he saw London.