Still recovering from an unexpected tragedy, single dad Wang Yibo isn't sure he's ready to move on - until he meets Xiao Zhan in a bar at Christmas. When what was meant to be a simple one-off encounter becomes more complicated, will Yibo have the st...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THE FIRST TIME ZHAN met the kids wasn't what Yibo imagined. He'd thought maybe a picnic, a trip to a museum, or the Easter egg hunt in the park at the weekend, something wholesome and fun. He didn't think it would be in a midnight panic over a fever Cheng couldn't seem to break. Yibo knew he should calm down but illness was a trigger since he paced the floor, hair a mess and eyes bagged and heavy, phone in one hand and Cheng on his hip. There was a tired murmur on the line, the smile in his cadence and sleep on his lips as he slurred a greeting. There was fear in Yibo's voice as he begged,
"He's burning up, please, I don't know what to do."
And there was ringing calm in Zhan's as he replied,
"Strip him down, I'll be there right away."
So, the kids met Zhan with his work bag, his stethoscope and his tired smile. They met him stooped over Cheng's bed as he checked his temperature, checked his pulse, checked his mouth and his throat and his ears-like-his-daddy's. They met him as the man who made everything calm, as the one who ran a hand over Cheng's cheek and declared him to be absolutely fine. They met him as the man who petted Fan Xing's hair and told him he was such a good boy for helping his daddy.
They met him again the next morning, tiptoeing past him where he snored on the couch out of mutually-agreed upon propriety.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
FOURTH OF JULY BROUGHT fireworks and barbeque and cold beer in the backyard of his parents' house. It brought Zhan, charming with a bottle of wine and a crate of IPA, and chaste kisses in front of Yibo's mom as the kids chased one another around the yard.
It brought Yibo's late wife's parents as it did every year, to spend time with the kids and exchange stories and memories. They got drunk and danced to Bowie, Zhan's arms around his waist and head against his shoulder as they swayed to the music under a sky lit with diamond bright stars and the brilliant riot of fireworks.
It brought the sting of tears to his eyes when his ex-but-not-really mother in law pulled him to one side and whispered, her own eyes sparked bright with tears,
"I like him, Yibo. She would've liked him."
He held her, pulled her to his chest and they cried together, mourning the woman he'd never stop loving. Out in the yard, Zhan cradled a soundly sleeping Cheng on his lap, Fan Xing curled into his side and Yibo swore he felt the cracks starting to pull together a little. Like a broken vase, they'd always be visible, he'd always be rough and imperfect, but maybe he could work again.
