Chapter 2 - Father and Son's Heartache

The evening was quiet, the sun setting when the pair stepped out the front door.

Father and son walked down the drive to a Bentayga V8. In the closed tinted windows, their reflections were striking. A tall, powerfully built and extremely handsome man with a small child in his arms. That child looked exactly like himself. Zhao YuShi was the exact copy of Zhao JingShi. Even down to the three piece suit the little guy was wearing.

Zhao JingShi, prouder than any father, paused in front of the SUV. He glanced at their reflection, glanced at his son, glanced at the reflection again. He squeezed and bounced the boy once. His son frowned in a temper.

“You’re lucky you have your mother’s eyes," Zhao JingShi teased.

His mother went through a lot of trouble to give birth to this precious baby and Zhao YuShi had the temerity to look ninety-nine percent like Zhao JingShi.

Zhao YuShi poked his tongue out, only for a second.

Zhao JingShi pinched his little nose. He squeezed and pulled until the little guy batted his fingers away. While the little guy made a show of rubbing his delicate nose with eyes full of grievance at his dad, Zhao JingShi went “Humph”. He’d been gentle.

Zhao JingShi gave a blind eye to the theatrics and opened the back door to put the boy inside.

He bent low to deliver YuShi into his car safety seat and buckle him in. At the same time, small hands reached into his jacket and fished out his wallet. Zhao JingShi tested the buckles and straps on the child safety seat then watched his son rifle through his wallet.

"You aren't speaking to me?" he asked. "Are you angry I left you alone with your grandma?"

YuShi paid him no mind. He was concentrating those little fingers to dig inside the wallet.

ZhaoYuShi pulled out a small square paper and tossed the wallet carelessly on the car seat.

"Where is your picture?" Zhao JingShi questioned with slight peeve.

YuShi was stubborn about ignoring his father. He only had eyes for the picture. The child ducked his head to look closely at the smiling face there, the paper clutched tightly in his little fingers.

Zhao JingShi was not a father who didn't understand. He sighed and straightened from the car. He closed the door and went to the front to get in himself.

He buckled his seatbelt and his hands grasped the wheel but he didn't start the car; he looked through the rear mirror. His son's dark head, full of thick, fluffy hair, was bent so low his chin was almost on his chest. He stared at the picture with such focus and longing that he looked... lonely.

His child was lonely. Sad.

His child had never known his mother. Had never met the woman who gave birth to him. Had lived his whole life wondering where his mother was.

Zhao JingShi rubbed at his own chest. He couldn't bear his son's pain. "Dad is sorry, YuShi." His regret was whispered quietly but sincerely. It was loud in the pressing silence.

YuShi's head ducked even lower.

"Because of Dad, you lost your mother."

His son did not look at him. Zhao JingShi in turn sat gazing at his child's downbent head. They sat there, both lost in their own loneliness until the sun was completely gone and the orange glow of the sky turned into an inky blue.

Only then did he, a big man, wipe the slight water on his cheeks and start the car. He forced a smile to coax his child. "Let's go home, Little Guy. Old Aunt Lin at home cooked your favourite today."

Small shuffling sounds came from the back. Zhao JingShi twisted around to look. He was just in time to have the face in the picture thrust against his nose. The little guy was leaning forward, his safety straps straining against his little body. He used both hands to hold the picture upright, facing Zhao JingShen.

The girl in the picture, her almond shaped eyes were full of happiness. Her lips opened in a happy laugh. Her hair –

"Tell my Mom 'Sorry' too," his spoiled child demanded.

Zhao JingShi eased the child's hands back to see her better. With his eyes, he traced the flow of her hair."XiaXia."

The words locked inside him, meant for no one's ears.

"XiaXia..."

The picture disappeared into a small fist. Baby hands patted his wrists. "It's okay, Dad. I will find my mom so you can tell her 'sorry' by yourself."

His son — imperious, too old for his age, and with too good a grasp of vocabulary — sat back in his seat. He even moved his little butt around to get comfortable. All the while his mother's picture was clutched close to his chest.

"I've been taking you to too many boardrooms," Zhao JingShi shook his head.

Zhao YuShi shrugged. Clear, big brown eyes searched his own. "Are you going to send me away?"

"You're only three years old. Where can I send you?" Zhao JingShi kept his tone mild with effort: children could sense when their parent wanted to march back in that house and do some harm.

"Today's lady with grandma said you have to send me away so I can learn to play."

"She is wrong."

Quickly, Zhao JingShi turned to the front and prepared to drive off. His son could not be allowed to see the sharp danger in his eyes.

"No one can separate us, buddy."

On that note, he stepped on the gas and drove. As they passed the house, both of them pretended not to see the door open and his mother - YuShi's grandmother - waving at them to stop. Beside her stood Gu HeiAn - today's lady. How many other young ladies did YuShi's grandmother introduce him to?

Zhao JingShi quickly met his son's eyes in the rare mirror and looked at the road. He sneered. "You're not getting any stepmother. Put all those poisonous thoughts out of your head."

The boy nodded. He bent his head again to gaze at his mother's picture.