Yiyun Li - Kinder Than Solitude

“He always said he knew what I was going to do,” said Sizhuo. “He said that I would sell out in exchange for a comfortable life.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Does that mean that I haven’t thought about it, or I won’t ever? What am I doing here with you if I am not considering that possibility? If I were a better person, I would have said no to you right away because everything in connection with you proves him right.”

“Why not look at it this way? You didn’t say no because I didn’t come simply to propose that I become your sugar daddy.”

“But what do you call what we’ve been doing?”

“We’re trying to get to know each other.”

“Is that what we’re doing? Do we know each other better than we did four weeks ago?” Sizhuo said. “Or are we just avoiding getting to know each other, because it’s too much of a risk for you?”

Again Boyang was frightened by the abandonment in her tone. “But not a risk for you?” he asked.

“What do I have to lose?” Sizhuo said.

Her childlike defiance unnerved him. He had never asked himself if she was worth his effort because to ask was to admit that this was more than a game. He had believed that at any moment he could leave, but what he hadn’t realized was that she had, without his knowing it, taken his deposit — of what? — his honor, his peace, or even his hope of building something called a life with her. How could he explain to her that she had too much to lose, not only on her own behalf, but on his, too? “What,” he said with some difficulty, “can I do to make things better?”

“It’s not what you can do , don’t you see?” Sizhuo said. “It’s what kind of person you are, but I don’t know who you are, or what you are. Sometimes I think maybe I did make the mistake of never committing to any position — had I chosen to be practical, had I chosen to be like some of my classmates from freshman year, my friend might have lost hope in this city and might not have stayed. So why didn’t I? Did I think I deserved great love, when other girls like me had resigned themselves to reality? But if I didn’t want to sell out, I should’ve been stronger. I should’ve believed in building a future with him in this place, however hard it would have been; I should’ve received his presents and returned with …”

Abruptly Sizhuo broke off. The waitress was coming with a steaming pot but had stopped a couple of steps away, lest it was not the right time. Sizhuo looked away with a flushed face, and Boyang motioned for the waitress to bring the stew over. She ladled the soup into two bowls and told them to enjoy. The moment before she turned away, Boyang caught a slight mocking smile on the face of the middle-aged woman.

“Well, eat something hot,” Boyang said.

Sizhuo made no movement to touch the food. “I was thinking before you picked me up today that we should stop this nonsense.”

“Why do you call it nonsense, when it seems to me to be the most sensible thing for two people to get to know each other?”

“It won’t work out in the end.”

“You don’t know that if we haven’t tried.”

Sizhuo looked at him sadly. “You know what’s the only thing that could absolve me? To fall in love with you, to have you fall in love with me — no, not you, but any man who is in a better position than my friend. Only love can absolve me, can’t you see? If only I could prove to my friend that a man richer and older than he can love as he did — do you see?”

Could he, or anyone, love as the dead boy had?

“You look hesitant. And you’re right to hesitate. You don’t feel up to the challenge, or perhaps it’s not even fair to ask you to try, because you would always suspect that I would compare you to him, or else I would use you. Sometimes I thought it would be better if I found another boy like him, who had nothing to his name, and we would support each other in our struggling. No, you’re laughing, and you’re right that however honorable that sounds, we would not get very far. Yes, I know that, but it isn’t for that reason that I’m not dating another boy like him,” Sizhuo said, looking into Boyang’s eyes, the tears she had been holding back now rolling down without inhibition. “But this: if I could make a life with someone like him, why not with him in the first place?”

Sizhuo stood abruptly and said she would be right back. For a moment Boyang worried that she would leave without him — he could see her do that, sneaking out of the restaurant and walking to the nearest bus stop, asking a passerby the bus schedule, playing hide-and-seek when he went to hunt for her. But to allow himself to panic was to surrender to a situation where he should have control. To distract himself, he took out his phone to see if anyone had contacted him in the past few hours.

An email from Ruyu was waiting for him, in his regular account, and only later did he figure out that it must not have been difficult for her to find that address. He had registered with that email on a few social media websites, and he had a microblog connected to the email.

The message was short: Ruyu gave the address of a hotel and the telephone number, and said that she would like to meet. There was no mention of how long she would stay, or when would be a good time for her.

Boyang felt sweat on his palms. The most sensible thing would be to call now rather than later, though Sizhuo would be back any minute. He looked around and signaled for the waitress to bring the check. “To-go containers?” she asked, looking at the untouched food.

“No, just bring me the bill.”

The waitress gave him an I-knew-it look. As she walked to the counter, she looked at Sizhuo, who had come out of the ladies’ room with slightly swollen eyes, without hiding her interest. With so many people coming and going through her restaurant, Boyang thought, the waitress must need to find a way to score points over the customers, morally or in another manner, but don’t we all do that? “I hope you don’t mind that I asked for the check,” he said when Sizhuo sat down.

She shook her head and said she was ready to leave.

He drove faster than usual on the way back, honking at the slower cars and cursing under his breath at the trucks. He was aware that Sizhuo watched him critically, and he wondered whether this behavior would be misunderstood — though did it really matter now if he was misunderstood by her? As they approached the city, traffic slowed to a worm’s speed, and he could not help but press his upper body against the steering wheel from time to time and join the chorus of honking. The fourth time he did this, Sizhuo looked at him coolly and said, “Do you think that’s going to change anything?”

“I’m not doing it to change anything.”

“Complaining?”

“Protesting.”

“What’s the difference between the two?”

“Protesting makes one feel a better person,” he said. “Though there’s really not any difference, if you ask me.”

“Do you protest often?”

“No,” he said. “I often don’t see the point.”

“Then what’s the point today?”

He turned to look at her. “What do you mean?”

“I think something I said put you into this protesting mood. What was it? Did I overstep and share too much information? Did I disappoint you because I’ve decided to stop playing your game?”

He sighed. “I’ve not been playing a game with you.”

“How do I know that?”

How does anyone know anything about another person? Our mind, a slate that does not begin as large as we wish, grows smaller with what we believe to be experience: anything we put down has to be erasable, one passion making way for another, one connection replaced by an equally precarious one. Once and again we lie to ourselves about starting with a clean slate, but even the most diligent wiping leaves streaks — fears, distrusts, the necessity of forever questioning the motives of others.