The Evening Wind Won't Keep the Old Promise

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01

In the third year of dating Delilah Henson, we finished our degrees and came home together.

Among the girlfriends throwing her a welcome-home dinner, there was one man.

From the moment we walked in, his face was cold, set in a smile that wasn't quite a smile.

Weren't you supposed to come back with some blond, blue-eyed guy? You go abroad and drag home a local? Aren't you embarrassed?

Delilah just laughed it off, easygoing, and turned to introduce him.

"Ed, this is Val Delgado. I've mentioned him to you."

That was when I finally understood. The friend Delilah contacted every single week while we were abroad

was a man.

I smiled, polite.

"Hello. I'm Edmund Mason."

"That thing you just saidwere you insulting me, or yourself?"

01

The smile on his face thinned in an instant.

"Well. Your boyfriend's got a sharp mouth."

Beside me, Delilah suddenly broke into a smile.

"Are you mad? Fine, I'll apologize. You're the bigger person, right? Let it go."

Her whole face was soft, tender, wrapped around him.

A meekness I had never once seen from her.

Val ate it up.

He slowly lifted the glass in his hand and brought it to her lips.

"Blue Label on the rocks. Your favorite. Call it my apology acceptedyou're getting off easy."

Under the bright lights, the smudge of lipstick on the rim of that glass looked like some silent dare.

My nails dug into my palm. I kept my voice as level as I could.

"She doesn't drink."

Val looked like he'd heard something hilarious.

"Doesn't drink? Since when, Miss Henson?"

"Or am I remembering it wrong? Wasn't it you who used to haul me out of bed at three in the morning to go drinking?"

She laughed softly and explained.

"The bars abroad were too loud, and I wasn't in the mood. It really has been a long time."

"Back home it's different. For you, I'll drink myself under the table any day."

"This one's mine."

And she reached out, took the glass, tipped her head back, and drained it.

I froze completely.

Three years together, and in front of me she'd always acted like half a can of beer was too much.

Around alcohol she kept a cool, careful distance.

There's no drinking-table culture abroad, but they love their drinking games.

Someone once teased her for hiding behind a glass of juice, said she couldn't play, so I drank round after round in her place.

Only when I'd flushed red all over did anyone realize I was allergic to alcohol.

That was the first time I ever saw Delilah lose her temper.

She tore into those classmates in language I'd never heard from her, then pulled me against her and waited for the ambulance, frantic.

Afterward they pumped my stomach, and I was so sick I couldn't eat for a week.

She fussed over me, and scolded me at the same time for not taking better care of myself.

The one thing she never told me

was that she could drink. That she could really drink.

Watching her knock back the glass, the look Val turned on me carried a few notes of triumph.

"Edmund, right? Looks like you don't know your Lila as well as you think."

When I didn't answer, he only warmed up more.

"Honestly, I'm curious. When this little booze hound isn't drinking, how do the two of you connect at all? Just the stuff in bed?"

Around the private room, the group laughed, none of it kind.

Delilah pressed a hand to her forehead, exasperated but fond.

"Val, that's enough."

"What, I can't even ask?"

"Besides, that body of yourswhich of us here hasn't seen it?"

A roar of laughter went up, loud enough to lift the roof.

And in all that noise, I nearly forgot how to breathe.

Meeting my eyes, Val seemed to remember something, and started to explain.

"Don't read into it. One Valentine's Day she got wasted at my place, couldn't even stand, made me walk her to the bathroomand then insisted I take her bra off for her because it was in the way..."

He finished, and the room burst out laughing again.

An unnatural flush crept over Delilah's usually cool face.

"I'm begging you, please, can we drop it? I've told you, I don't remember any of it..."

"How can I let it go? I was a perfectly innocent man, and you dragged me into it, and now you want to deny it?"

She shook her head helplessly. He looked immensely pleased with himself.

And I, who had said nothing this whole time, let out a cold laugh.

That single laugh dropped the whole room into silence.

Val instantly swung the point of it back at me.

"Oh, right. Lila says you're brilliant. Top of the class, scholarship every year."

"I've heard guys like youbad background, a decent facehalf kill themselves to study abroad just so they can land a woman like her. Making it this far, you must be pretty pleased with yourself."

I looked at him coldly, the way you look at a fool.

If my absurdly wealthy parents ever heard that, they'd probably choke on their own blood.

Reading my expression as displeasure, he thought he'd hit a nerve and pressed on:

"Lila and I go back almost ten years. Every boyfriend she's had since high school knows me."

"You're the first one who's ever dared to talk back to my face."

My voice stayed calm.

"What exactly are you trying to say?"

He choked on that for a moment, then finally couldn't help raising his voice.

"Well, I'll say my piece up front today.

From now on you can dislike me all you want, but if you ever mistreat Lila, I won't let it go.

The man's voice landed hard and final.

A scatter of applause broke out around the room.

Someone praised Val for being loyal, someone envied Delilah her luck.

Only I lifted my eyelids a fraction, glanced once at Delilah, then once at Val.

Then my lips parted, curved with a smile.

"So in what capacity are you speaking to me right now?"

"As Delilah's senior partner?"

02

The room went quiet all at once. A few seconds later, someone let out a low laugh.

Val's face flushed, then drained pale, the easy composure he'd put on visibly starting to crack.

"Ed, what are you playing at?"

Delilah's tone was sharp enough to thin my smile.

It wasn't that I'd never seen her angry.

In lectures she'd shot back at professors who slacked off. At parties she'd calmly called out people's bad intentions.

But this was the first time she'd turned that anger on me.

And over another man.

I breathed in to hide the sting behind my nose and kept my voice soft, coaxing, the way I always did with her.

"He gave me one put-down after another. I said one thing back. How is that me playing games?"

Her voice only came out colder.

"Everything Val said was for my own good. You shouldn't talk to him that way."

If a small part of me had still felt wronged a moment ago, that line finished it. My heart went completely cold.

"I see I had it wrong. He's not your senior partner. He's your mother."

That set her off. Her voice shot up.

"Enough! Edmund!"

"Apologize to Val."

I stared at her, tears gathering fast in my eyes.

My voice came out very soft.

"Not a chance."

The people who'd been watching the show finally started stepping in.

"All right, all right, Lila, don't be upset. Today's the day you came home. You should be happy."

"And you shouldn't take it to heart. Back then, if Val hadn't talked Lila into going abroad to build her rsum, none of this would even involve you."

"Right, honestly, the fact that you got a girlfriend like Lila at all, you've got Val to thank for that."

They talked over each other, one line after another. I only looked at the woman beside me.

She set her glass down on the table, and it gave a small, crisp click.

Like something settling for good.

"Val is my friend. If you can't even show him basic respect when you meet him"

"Then let's cancel tomorrow. You're not coming back to my parents' place with me."

The whole of me went still.

Before we came home, Delilah had said she wanted to take me to meet her parents.

She'd said that because of me, for the first time, she'd started wanting a family of her own.

That same day I'd called my mother, full of confidence, and told her Delilah was no less than any of the women on those arranged-marriage contracts.

I'd told her to prepare a welcome party for her future daughter-in-law.

And warned her not to make it too grand, so she wouldn't scare Delilah off.

But looking at the cold line of this woman's profile, with that sentence still echoing in my ears,

everything I'd done before looked like the work of a complete fool.

"You're sure?"

Her slender fingertip slid along the rim of the glass, careless.

"You know me. I don't say things I'm not sure about."

Whistles broke out from the corners of the room right away.

"Lila's the boss," "Lila doesn't take anything," rose from every corner of the room.

Each one scraped across my face until it stung.

Things had reached this point. Every extra second I stayed was another insult to myself.

So I grabbed my bag off the seat, stood, and walked out with long strides.

It was only outside the door that I realized my face was already wet with tears.

Three years together. How could it not hurt.

Behind me came a burst of quick footsteps.

I was about to wipe my eyes when a hand caught my arm.

When she saw the state of my face, Delilah froze for a second, then let out a deep sigh.

"Come on. I'll drive you."

She pulled the car door open and looked at me.

"We can talk on the way."

I was hurting, but my reason hadn't left me.

Walking off felt good, but it wouldn't fix anything.

And even if we were breaking up, it should have a clear ending.

I was just about to get in.

"Ugh, Lila, I think my stomach's acting up"

Val, who'd followed us out at some point, suddenly crouched a short distance away, a hand pressed to his belly.

The words were barely out before the door she'd just opened slammed shut again with a bang.

She hurried over to him, her voice scolding and helpless at once.

"Not feeling well again? You've been staying up late and wrecking your schedule, haven't you?"

Then she quickly pulled off her own coat and tucked it around him.

"Wait here."

She dropped the words and headed for the convenience store across the street.

The whole time, she didn't look back once at me, still standing there.

"Did you see that clearly?"

Val spoke up behind me.

"Even after three years abroad, she still puts me first."

He slowly straightened up, his face full of mockery.

"Want to bet she comes back with more than one thing in her hands?"

"Not just the stomach medicine I always take. Imported painkillers too."

"There's a convenience store next door. She'll buy a thermos and fill it with the warm herbal tea I like to drink."

Seeing my shock, he suddenly broke into a delighted smile.

"She just did all this for you at the start of the month, didn't she?"

"People's memories only stretch so far. Keeping two people's schedules and constitutions straight gets confusing, so that memo in her phone tracking your health? I'm the one who taught her to make it."

He paced slowly toward me.

"That tenderness that won you over is just a leftover I've already played through."

"No one can do what I do for her. No one can outrank me in her heart."

"So be smart. Don't push it until there's no way to save face."

Our eyes met, and when I saw the ambition and hunger buried in his,

I suddenly laughed.

"If the two of you are so in sync, why is she dating someone else?"

"You say you know her better than anyone. Then you should also know exactly where she puts you."

"How about we take a guess. If you confessed to her, would she even spare you a second look."

03

The early-autumn wind drifted down the street.

I looked at the dark set of Val's face and felt nothing close to satisfaction.

What a ridiculous scene.

Raised on the finest elite education money could buy, and here I was, pointlessly measuring myself against another man over a woman.

All at once it struck me as utterly meaningless.

I was about to walk away when the man behind me spoke again.

"What would you know?"

"Back then, if I hadn't talked her into chasing you, you think you'd ever have caught her eye?"

My step froze. I turned sharply to look at him.

Val stood with his arms crossed, staring at me with an arrogant tilt to his chin.

"When she said she was lonely abroad, I was the one who told her to try dating someone."

"When she said she kind of liked you, I was her strategist, plotting out every move for her, step by step."

"That first date, when she suddenly kissed you on the Ferris wheel, I taught her to do that."

"That restaurant she took you to for Christmas dinner, I scouted it ahead of time, went through the options, and sent it to her."

"Even the gifts for every one of your anniversaries, she picked them off a shortlist I gave her."

"You thought her feelings for you ran deep. From start to finish, I was the one pulling the strings behind it all."

He watched my expression with care, his grin wide and showy.

"Oh, and do you know why I told her to go abroad in the first place?"

"Because I knew what would make her see our bond clearly again was never time. It was distance."

"When she got me back after losing me, that's when she'd truly realize I was irreplaceable in her life."

I looked at him without a word.

The grief pressing on my chest was suddenly replaced by a wave of cold dread

I had actually imagined spending the rest of my life with Delilah.

How absurd.

Three years ago, the marriage-contract proposals stacked up in front of me in a mountain, and I hadn't spared a single one a glance.

Only because I'd never lacked for anything since childhood, and I knew exactly what I deserved.

I was supposed to have love that was pure and real.

So when I went abroad to study, I turned down every shortcut my parents had laid out for me.

Beyond honestly finishing my degree, maybe I could also find a love that was truly my own.

And Delilah's appearance had fit every fantasy I'd had about the person I'd end up with.

She wasn't the one who pursued me hardest, but she was the one who moved me the most.

Steady, capable, driven, and respectful of others.

Twenty-some years of life, and for the first time, I had truly fallen in love.

I just never imagined there was someone else in that water too.

"You'd better know your place before I decide to actually make a move."

"After all, she kept you for three years abroad. You've already skimmed plenty of benefits off her."

Hearing that, I actually laughed.

"She kept me?"

"What else would you call it?" Val scoffed, every word laced with mockery. "Four days a week you were freeloading at her apartment, eating and drinking on her dime. You liked tennis, so you sweet-talked her into paying three years of your club dues. You liked grand gestures, so you had her buy you expensive gifts for every holiday"

Listening to him lay it all out, one item after another,

a wave of absurdity rose up in me.

Who could have imagined that I, the only son of the Mason family, would one day be branded some unforgivable kept man out of another man's mouth?

I really wanted to ask Delilah to my face: hadn't I paid all of it back to her, several times over?

I could take my losses in love as a lesson.

But smearing me over money, as the son of a business empire, forgive me if I couldn't let that slide.

I drew a deep breath and was about to speak.

A long black car pulled slowly to a stop at the curb.

The window came down, and a familiar, striking face appeared.

"Mr. Mason, I finally found you."

I blanked for a couple of seconds, then placed the newcomer at once.

Deborah Simmons, the only daughter of the Simmons Group.

If her family hadn't moved across the Atlantic and settled there the year she finished middle school, our childhood friendship carried right through to now.

That practically made us childhood sweethearts.

We'd kept in touch over the years, but seeing her turn up out of nowhere still caught me off guard.

"What are you doing here?"

There was something knowing in her smile.

"Coming to steal you away, obviously."

Then her gaze swept over the space beside me.

"Where's the woman you brought back? I've got my lines and the thirty million ready to go, just waiting for her to nod and say the word."

I stalled, caught somewhere between laughing and not.

Beside me, Val's eyes had already gone red.

He stared hard at the luxury car and at Deborah, his tone all sneering insinuation.

"No wonder you're so calm. Turns out there's more than one fish in the pond."

He gave Deborah a fawning little smile.

"Hey, sweetheart, you look like a smart one, so let me do you a favor and give you a heads-up"

Crack

A ringing slap echoed down the whole street.

Deborah immediately started clapping, her voice full of admiration.

"Nicely done. Though isn't your technique a little rusty?"

I ignored the jab and kept my cold eyes on the dazed Val.

"You really think I'm some pushover you can squeeze whenever you like?"

Val cupped his cheek.

"You dare hit me?"

Deborah looped her arm through mine, chin high.

"He did. So what?"

Then a voice came from across the street.

"Edmund Mason!"

I looked up. Delilah stood on the far side, a bag of things in her hand, her eyes on me both shocked and furious.

And on this side, Val chose exactly that moment to start crying.

I used every ounce of my upbringing to hold back the urge to roll my eyes.

I turned, pulled open the car door, and got in.

Deborah didn't move. She sized Delilah up with open interest, her tone playful:

"That's her?"

I had no patience left.

"Are you coming or not?"

"What's the rush? Afraid she'll really break up with you over money? Isn't this the perfect chance to see her clearly?"

She said it, then shot another meaningful glance at the woman hurrying toward us.

"Want to bet? I won't even have to name a price, and she'll let you leave with me. Might even be the one to ask for the breakup."

I drew a deep breath:

"No need. We already broke up."

Deborah raised a brow: "When?"

"Now."

04

As the car pulled away, Delilah, always so composed, ran a couple of steps after it.

Her face had gone as ugly as I'd ever seen it, and she said something.

But the car was too well insulated. I didn't hear a word.

The whole way back, Deborah kept threatening to crack open a bottle of red wine to celebrate, then queued up that cheerful kids' song we used to love as children and broke into a ridiculous dance.

Thanks to all her clowning around, I didn't even feel that broken up about it.

Not until the car turned in through the gate I knew so well, and I saw my parents rise from where they sat in the courtyard and walk toward me, smiling.

Only then did a film of water finally rise in my eyes.

When they heard Delilah and I had broken up, my parents were surprised, but they stayed calm enough.

They'd both weathered plenty of storms, and they knew I wouldn't let myself sink into it.

I just needed a little time.

My mother and I were still talking when Deborah, all mysterious, pulled my father off to the study for a quiet word.

On her way out, she even winked at me.

I thought it was a little odd, but I didn't dwell on it.

That night I went to bed early.

Knowing Delilah as I did, she wouldn't be reaching out to me anytime soon.

But the instant my phone buzzed, my heart still skipped a beat before I could stop it.

Only when I saw it was a friend back home did I open it.

"Ed, is this you?"

Then he sent a screenshot of a social media feed.

I opened it for a look and couldn't help thinking what a small world it was. The person posting turned out to be Val.

Of the nine photos in the grid, three were his own selfies, three were suggestive shots of him and Delilah.

The last three were all of my back.

Out of the sprawling wall of text underneath, I picked out the important parts.

"...Since when did fakes learn to fake this hard? Carrying a knockoff bag, playing the rich young heir, hating on other men, keeping a girlfriend on the side while reeling in an heiress. Impressive stuff..."

"I just feel awful for my Lila. Three years together before she saw through him. Still, if one slap I took woke her up, I'd say it was worth it."

People really do laugh when they're pushed past the point of words.

I stared at the screen for a while, then finally started typing.

"That's me. She's my ex-girlfriend's guy best friend. How do you know her?"

A whole string of messages came back at once.

Turned out Val used to be a clerk at some luxury brand.

He got himself fired after he spread it around that some rich guy's girlfriend worked as an escort, and when the guy found out and confronted him to his face, that was the end of the job.

The whole thing had blown up in those circles at the time, and I'd caught wind of it.

Never imagined the star of that story had been right beside me the whole time.

My friend said he'd get even for me, but honestly I wasn't all that angry.

Still, the guy had come bouncing right up to my door, so I thought about it and saw no reason to stop him.

What did surprise me was that the next afternoon, Delilah got in touch.

First she sent a report about Val being fired, then rapid-fired off several screenshots of customer complaints.

Then came the accusation, straight at my head.

"Did you have this done?"

"Just because Val's my friend, you hit him and now you're getting your revenge. Ruining someone's whole life, what do you even get out of..."

The voice message was forty-five seconds. I got that far, then hit stop.

Then I typed, and sent.

"Has he deleted the things he posted about me?"

The other end went quiet, only the little "typing..." above flickering on and off.

I let out a short laugh and dropped her into my blocked list.

Before bed, my parents called me into the study.

The moment I stepped in, I saw the marriage contracts from various families stacked up on the desk like a little mountain.

I pulled the one off the top and flipped it open.

Deborah's pretty face was there, staring up at me from the page.

Seeing me freeze, my father leaned his head in and suddenly broke into laughter.

"That girl's got nerve, I'll give her that. She showed up with the Simmons family's whole net worth and this contract and worked on me for half an hour."

"Her father even called today to apologize, said no matter what foolish, in-over-her-head thing Deborah had done, I should bear with her."

My mother laughed too, hand over her mouth.

"An arranged match is only ever icing on the cake. Our Ed doesn't have to settle for anyone."

"We called you in because we wanted to talk it over with you. If none of them interest you, we'll just find a way to turn them all down, and spare ourselves the families who haven't even sent their proposals yet but are itching to."

I ran my fingers over the old-style gilt pattern embossed on the contract, then spoke up.

"Turn down the rest. Keep Deborah's."

The moment word got out that the Masons and the Simmonses were engaged, it nearly set the whole circle on fire.

From that day on, Deborah came bounding over to the Mason house every single day, teeth bared in a grin.

But apart from settling the wedding details, I mostly didn't have the time to pay her much attention.

Attending banquets, running the company.

My life was busy and full.

That day I'd just finished a TV station interview, and on the drive home my phone rang with a number I didn't recognize.

I'd met plenty of the industry's new money lately, so after a moment's thought I answered.

The aged voice that came through froze me on the spot.

"Hello? Is that my precious grandson-in-law? It's Grandma, dear. When are you coming to see me"

It wasn't until an awkward woman's voice came on the line that I remembered.

Delilah had a grandmother with Alzheimer's, and to keep her happy Delilah had mentioned me to her before.

The old woman had come to assume we were already married.

I just didn't know how she'd gotten my number.

After some noise and shuffling, Delilah's voice came through, unusually clear in the quiet.

"It's been a lot of days now with no contact. Have you calmed down?"

I didn't answer. There was only the faint hum of static in the air.

She let out a heavy sigh, like someone conceding defeat.

"My grandmother's very ill. The doctor says she only has a few days. She wants to see you."

"This weekend, let me take you to buy a few outfits first, then bring you to my place to see her. All right?"

By the end she was almost coaxing me.

I knew this was as far as she ever gave ground.

But my eyes settled on the understated, lavish invitation lying by my hand, and I suddenly smiled.

"Sorry. I'm getting married that day. No time."