Beginning with Forever Page 2

  My obsession to cure cancer didn’t settle well with my mother. It made her terribly concerned for my mental health, so she intervened by creating a distraction for me. She helped me organize my first Lymphoma Yacht Function. I loved the idea of contributing to a fundraiser that benefitted cancer research and services. That little baby step she convinced me to take led to bigger steps like dating. My mother was overjoyed that her plan was successful. Eventually, I felt more comfortable and sought the company of many women.

  Dating was one thing, but commitment was entirely different and off limits for me. I wasn’t ready for that. Again, my mother intervened because she couldn’t handle the idea of me not settling down and having children. I was approaching thirty at the time. She pleaded relentlessly with me every chance she had. She argued that she wasn’t getting any younger and that all her friends bragged about their beautiful grandbabies while she had none. Her brainwashing took a toll on me, and I started to believe that she deserved happiness and grandbabies like her friends.

  My mother introduced me to Bianca a little over two years ago. She had met Bianca at some cancer fundraiser and fell in love with her for me. My mother’s taste is impeccable. Bianca is no ordinary woman. Her body screams hot-sex with her voluptuous breasts, slender waistline and a tight ass. She has lustrous, platinum blonde hair, sapphire blue eyes and puckering full lips. She commands both men’s and women’s attention when she enters a room. Just like any typical man, I wasn’t immune to her sensuality initially. Plus, it also didn’t hurt that her beautiful face and blue eyes reminded me so much of Emily. As sick as it sounded, this was probably why I agreed to marry her.

  Bianca was fucking amazing in bed, but that was it. She wasn’t able to touch my heart, not even a tiny corner. She didn’t know how to, or maybe I didn’t allow her to. Regardless of the reason, I just couldn’t make myself love her, no matter how hard I tried. Several times I attempted to break off our engagement, but somehow, someway, my mother convinced me to stay with her. I could never blame my mother for loving me too much. The shitty predicament I’m in is no one’s fault, but mine. I wasn’t man enough to end it when I should’ve. Shaking my head, I try to clear my mind. Backing out is not an option for me.

  The taxi creeps up to a curb, and there I see it in the distance, my last name illuminated brightly on top of one of the tallest buildings in Boston. The driver halts his cab to let me out at the entrance of Bradley Pharmaceutical Corporation. Pulling out a crisp hundred dollar bill, I drop it in his palm, and he thanks me for my generosity with a satisfied grin. The air feels much cooler this evening for early September, but I’m not complaining. It’s a refreshing change from this summer’s heat wave. I absorb one last revitalizing breeze into my system before striding into my building and entering through a private side door. Stepping into the elevator, I release my body against the back wall and ride it up to my office. Fuck, am I really going to go through with this? I think with my head stooped toward the floor. Slowly dragging my feet, I eventually make way to the leather loveseat by the window. I crash down in one quick motion and sadly think I’ll be one unhappily married man tomorrow.

  Chapter 2

  Lillian Ly

  (One year and six months prior to the Present)

  Now where did I put it? Pushing years of knick-knacks aside, I dug to the bottom of my glass wish jar to retrieve my lucky fortune which came with my Panda Express two entrée meal. I held it against my pounding chest with my eyes sealed and recited it by memory, “Good fortune will float your way.” I’ve superstitiously kept this silly piece of paper for four months, hoping it would bring me good news.

  I’ve dedicated eighteen academic years of my life, including three summers, for this very day. The outcome of my future was being delivered to me in a gold envelope from the prestigious St. Croix Medical School. It’s not only ideally located on a beautiful Caribbean island, but is also renowned for graduating many gifted surgeons and medical specialists around the world. I chose this school because it’s the only one in the world that offers an accelerated program, combining both medical school and residency together. Students are completely board eligible after five full years of their services and dedication. Each year, thousands of hopeful medical students apply for the limited fifty-five coveted positions, and now I was among the list of hopefuls, holding onto a wishful fortune cookie prediction for luck.

  I’ve also been praying every night for months, hoping the benevolent Lord would answer my one special request. Maybe my chances would be better if I wasn’t a holiday Christian, meaning, I only attended specific services throughout the year like Christmas and Easter and a few other ones in between. And as if that wasn’t enough, I threw in the Laughing Buddha as an added measure. I’ve rubbed every round-belly statue in every Asian restaurant in town for additional luck. My mother is Buddhist slash Christian, making me a very confused ‘Buddhistian,’ a made-up religion I categorized myself under.

  My trips to the mailbox have been unnerving for the past few weeks. The anticipation tortured me slowly. I asked Emma, one of my two bestest friends, to drop me off in front of the mailbox today instead of my house to save me that dreadful walk. My hands trembled like crazy as I turned the key to open the metal door to my community mailbox. Peeking inside the dark compartment, I finally saw my future staring back at me. I pulled the fancy envelope out and ran back to the house as quickly as my feet could carry me there.

  My mother was calmly sitting at our kitchen table with her chin rested in her palms. She had her usual cup of fresh brewed jasmine tea in front of her. I inhaled the calming, fragrant scent as I breathlessly handed her the envelope. She cautiously tore it open and pulled the letter out. Immediately, I knew I was accepted without even looking at the contents in it. I understood the proud, elated tears forming underneath her prematurely aged eyes. The letter fell like a wafting feather onto the table as I leaned down to embrace my sobbing mother with all my love. Her body shivered with happiness. She stroked the back of my head affectionately, the same way I used to comfort her whenever she cried herself to sleep. This rare, tender side of her unintentionally stirred more tears to flow from me. Emotions are difficult for my mother. Being hardened by her unkind past experiences, she struggles to express her true feelings to anyone. I’ve learned to cope with this, and in some ways, I think it has shaped me into the resilient person I am today.

  We stopped shedding tears of joy to start tears of sadness instead. It has always been just the two of us ever since I was born. My father abandoned her when I was merely an unplanned fetus in her womb. I knew nothing about him except for the pain he’s caused my mom, and I hated him for it. Occasionally, I would ask her about him, but she would avoid the topic altogether, until today. Mom must’ve decided that I was old enough to handle their story.

  * * * * * * * *

  His name was Collin Montgomery, my father. He came with money, breathtaking good looks, and empty promises. My mother, Lia, was living in Hong Kong with her parents at the time. Her two elder sisters were already married off to wealthy businessmen from Taiwan and England, but Lia had no desire to follow their footsteps. She saw a different future for herself, one that her father, Marcus Ly, didn’t agree with. She wanted to become a surgeon. Marcus strongly believed a woman’s role is better served as a supportive wife and a loving mother to her children. She believed in finding success and independence on her own. He saw financial and emotional dependence through a wealthy husband. They obviously didn’t see eye to eye.

  Marcus found a solution that satisfied both their needs. He told Lia she could go to medical school if she agreed to marry his potential business associate’s son. Lia’s future husband’s family would take care of everything as soon as she moved back to the states with them. Initially, she was mortified to hear her father’s selfish proposition. She couldn’t believe he wanted to use her marriage as leverage for sealing a business deal. This was far more callous than she ever thought her father was capable of, but t
his was his offer, take it or leave it. Lia wanted to chase her dream so badly; she agreed to her father’s condition—but not without resentment. She stopped speaking to him from that point on.

  Charles Montgomery, Marcus’ business partner and also my American grandfather, flew my unwilling father, Collin, to Hong Kong to meet my unwilling mother, Lia. Charles was also eager to seal a trading deal in exchange for his son’s marriage proposal. He had the same business strategy as Marcus. They both believed in expanding their business empires with ‘friendly’ mergers.

  My father, Collin, was rich, spoiled and unmotivated. With his stunning looks and money, he had no shortages of willing women, which made his mandatory nuptial very difficult for him to accept. Charles didn’t care about what his son wanted, he gave Collin two choices: marry Lia or no more allowances for parties, beautiful women and booze. The choice was clear for him, so he unhappily agreed.

  Collin played the courting fiancé role precisely, and my mother fell sincerely hard for him. They were rushed into a hasty wedding, so Lia could return to the states as soon as possible to start the new school year without delay. Little did she know that this prearranged marriage was just a scheme Charles fabricated to hasten his business deal with Marcus. Charles needed Marcus’ financial pull to help strengthen his struggling medical company. He had no intention on following through with his promises to Lia after the deal was made. He had other plans for her, plans that my mother still occasionally has nightmares about. I just never knew that her bad dreams were about my heartless grandfather and father.

  Lia flew back to Boston with Charles and Collin. When she arrived at their hidden mansion, Charles showed her his true colors. He was deceitful, unpleasant and manipulative. She was kept locked in her room and wasn’t allowed access to any form of communications. Charles and Collin made all the necessary calls to Lia’s family, giving them phony updates about her schooling. Marcus never questioned why Lia didn’t want to speak with him because he knew she resented him for forcing her into a marriage against her will. He recognized his daughter’s stubbornness and gave her time to forgive him, but she never did. Unfortunately for Lia, Marcus was too proud of a man to beg for forgiveness, so he never came seeking her. Lia hated the Montgomery family for their deception and betrayal and for tearing her away from her family and dream.

  Three months later, Lia discovered she was pregnant with me. My future was unclear and possibly unsafe. Lia knew Charles had plans to get rid of her, but she didn’t know how or when. Would they try to get rid of her sooner if they knew she was pregnant? She didn’t want to stick around to find out. She had no one to turn to, but Collin. She honestly believed there was goodness in his heart, but he was too afraid to stand up to his father. Lia begged him to help her escape, but he refused at first, fearing his father’s fury.

  After weeks of seeing Lia distraught and crying her heart out, Collin broke down and helped her escape while Charles and his elder brother, Chandler, were away on business. He drove my mother to Fort Wayne, Indiana, a small town he randomly picked by throwing a dart at the map of the U.S. one drunken night. Collin was careful to erase all traces that could lead Charles back to Lia because he knew his father was ruthless.

  Collin gave Lia all the money he had with him and helped her find an apartment. He knew he could never make up for all the terrible things he and his family did to her, but this was a start. He told her about his father’s unethical business practice and how ashamed he was to be involved with it. He wanted to break away from his family, but he was terrified of his father. Lia asked him to stay with her, but he assured her it would be too dangerous and gave no further explanations. She was so happy to get away from Charles that she didn’t probe for answers. They spent one last memorable night together which left a painful scar for my mother till this day. My father disappeared the next morning without a trace. My mom never shared her secret with him. I think she was afraid she would lose me. I wonder if things might have been different for us had she told him about me that night.

  ____________________

  My mother concluded her story with more streaming tears. In my mind, I had always imagined a wicked face for my father—callous expression with dark, sharp horns on top of his head. I blamed him for all her sadness and endless tears. I couldn’t imagine how someone could abandon a person and never come back for him or her. I honestly believed he wasn’t capable of loving anyone. His heart must have been made of ice because no one could be that heartless. I was glad my mother finally shared his more human side with me. He still isn’t my favorite person, but I don’t think I hate him like I used to.

  “Lily, I hope you learn from my past. Don’t trust rich, handsome men. They only use people to get what they want,” she heatedly advised me as she narrowed her sobbing eyes.

  “I’ll remember that, Mom.” I looked directly into her sad, light, brown eyes and respectfully accepted her advice. “Thank you for telling me about my father. I know that wasn’t easy for you.”

  “Why are we talking about that?” She quickly changed the subject. “We need to talk about you being far away from me. I miss you already, Lily.” Her eyes welled up again with sadness.

  I wiped our tears away with my sleeve, and pressed my lips against her cheek. “I love you, Mom. I’ll miss you even more.”

  “Lily, a piece of my heart will always be with you when you’re far away.” She fished inside her sweater pocket and pulled out a red Asian jewelry pouch. “This necklace was a traditional, Chinese, wedding gift from your father. I want you to have it. It’s the only thing left of him that I can share with you.”

  “I can’t take this from you.” I caressed her hands with the necklace and gently pushed them back towards her.

  “Yes you can, and you will,” she firmly insisted, unclasped the latch and circled the necklace around my neck. It was an 18k gold chain with a jade water lily bud.

  “This is why I named you ‘Lily.’ You’re the only beautiful thing that came out of my ugly past.” Her tone lightened up.

  “Mom, I love it. I promise I’ll never take it off.” I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tightly. It was probably one of the most remarkable days of my life. I not only knew more about my father, but I had something that would remind me of him all the time.

  (Six months prior to the Present)

  Gosh, it seemed only like yesterday that I received my acceptance letter to St. Croix Medical School instead of a year ago. I couldn’t believe that I was there at the Miami airport, connecting to my last flight on this sunny, April morning. I huffed and puffed my lungs out from running and trying to catch the Skytrain to the final terminal. The airport was intimidating to me. Most normal people enjoy the thrill of traveling, especially on an airplane. Not me, I hated flying. I had this horrible and almost debilitating fear of heights. I can’t understand it or how I developed it, but it’s the most god-awful feeling.

  The airline had overbooked the economy seats by the time I checked in. Their mistake bumped me up to first class status. Not too shabby for my first international flight, if you could even call it that. I took my seat and buckled in. The captain announced overhead that we would be taxiing off the runway in a few minutes. A female flight attendant went over safety instructions for seatbelts, oxygen masks, emergency floating devices and exits as soon as the door sealed us in. I listened attentively to every word that came out of her mouth. I wanted to be darn sure I knew what to do in case of an emergency. Mentioning possible mishaps right before the take-off didn’t help my fear of flying. As soon as all the safety instructions were given, I plugged my earphones in, hoping Enya’s voice would soothe my anxiety away.

  The aircraft picked up speed with bumps and rattles to make its ascension. My heart raced along with the take-off while fear masked my eyes. I felt the cabin pressure slowly increase inside my ears, muting and altering my hearing. I swallowed hard several times against the nervous lump in my throat to relieve it. My sweaty palms gripped the armrests
so tightly that my veins swelled, and my knuckles were ghostly white. I closed my eyes and held my breath briefly, hoping to get past this panic attack. Thank god the takeoff was acceptably smooth, and we were finally in the air. I sighed in relief and released my death grip of the armrests.

  I avoided looking outside the tiny window of the airplane because it would only freak me out even more. I turned my attention to the TV monitor in front of me instead as I glided my jade pendant back and forth on my gold chain. Rather than seeing what was actually on the screen, I saw my mom, two best friends and me hugging and crying on my front porch. I insisted on taking a cab to the airport because I didn’t want to lengthen our good-byes or see the sad expressions on their faces as I walked away. It would’ve been impossible for me to leave them then. How would I manage without them? They had been my strength and source of encouragement for years.

  Tears gathered in the pockets of my eyes until they overflowed down my cheeks. As I discreetly used the edge of my sweatshirt sleeve to wipe them away, I saw a white, cotton handkerchief waving in front of me. It was a friendly gesture from the passenger sitting next to me. I thanked him, feeling slightly embarrassed. His handkerchief was heavily infused with his musky cologne. The scent was sexy. I couldn’t help inhaling it as I wiped the tears from my eyes. I had blocked everything and everyone out during the dreadful take-off that I never even noticed this handsome man sitting to the right of me.

  “Hi, I’m Richard Stevens,” he introduced himself with a flattering smile and a handshake.

  “I’m Lillian,” I replied. I shook his hand hastily and then placed mine back on top of my lap.

  “Where are you heading, Lillian?” he attempted to keep our little conversation going.