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She thought about it when she returned to San Francisco. She finally told her aunt and uncle that she had met an actor, an American one. They asked her what she wanted with him, and Vivian didn’t know. Was this someone to alter her life for? She went back to Los Angeles to film the movie. On days when she wasn’t needed on set, she was with Richard. He took her to shows and to restaurants with delectable, intricately plated dishes. Wherever they went people stared, and Vivian could feel their gaze on her. It was strange. For so long she had been ignored, if even registered at all, and now there was a kind of indignant, awestruck incredulity to the stares. She felt most comfortable in the moments they were alone but learned to revel in this new public attention.

Directors started giving her a second look. Vivian had known she possessed a certain type of beauty, with her rounded, searching eyes set upon sharpened cheekbones and her full lips. There was a reason she had gotten the role of Lin Daiyu back in the day. One of the casting directors had called her a “precious China jewel” at the auditions forSong of Lovers, in a tone that made Vivian glow in the moment, only to make her skin crawl when she thought about it later.

But Richard never said any of that. On long drives with her he only continued his questions, asking her about her day, about what she thought about the movie, about her co-stars, the costuming. At night as the stars swept the sky, he leaned in and kissed her, slowly. She kissed him back, tasting his cigarettes, which she’d eventually come to enjoy, in spite of herself.

She knew this would have to end someday. She was only on set in Los Angeles for a few weeks, and then this would all be over; this rapturous and eternal joy that seemed to beam from the billboards and thread through the streets, the fixed attention of this man that Vivian had only known for months but suddenly didn’t want to be away from for even a full day. Still, she didn’t tell him. Knowing him was good for her job, Vivian thought, and that excuse held for a while. But now that he had started talking about introducing her to his family and bringing her to Paris with him to an awards show there, she couldn’t ignore it. She couldn’t make a life here in Los Angeles. The more she thought about it the clearer it became. She’d been abandoned once. She couldn’t do the same to her children. She couldn’t continue this.

“So,” he said now at this dinner over appetizers—appetizers, a luxury Vivian only came to know with Richard. “I was wondering what your thoughts were on the Paris trip.”

Vivian took a deep breath. “I need to tell you something first.”

Richard looked up. Vivian could hardly make herself meet his eyes, his clear gaze.

“I…,” Vivian said. “I don’t know what I can be to you.”

“Vivian,” he said plainly. “You know I’m in love with you, right?”

Everything around her seemed to still.

“I love you, too,” she whispered, wanting to retract it as soon as she’d said it because she knew it was true. His eyes softened. She steeled herself. “I do. But I need to tell you something. I was married before.”

She watched his lips part in shock.

“I had a husband. Back in San Francisco. But he left me.” Vivian took a breath. Her eyes smarted. “And my daughters.”

“Oh,” Richard said.

Vivian waited for him to take in this new information. “My childrenare in San Francisco with my family. But I miss them, and I want to bring them here. I want to be here with them.”

Surely he would withdraw from her. She must look like a ruined woman to him, she thought. Or foolish, scorned. A Chinese divorcée with children. She waited for him to leave. She stared at the tablecloth.

“I love you, Richard,” she said softly. “But I don’t think you should love me. Because then you will have to love everything. My children, too.”

He said nothing.

She stood up. “I will always think about you,” she breathed through trembling lips.And what could have been.“I’m sorry. I really am.” She then ran back toward the entrance of the restaurant. She could barely see through her tears to hail a taxi. She wept into her palms the whole way home, furious with herself for flirting with the impossible. She ran inside her hotel, wanting only to bury her face in the pillow. But she had to tell him the truth. She needed to be with her children. The dream had to end.

Vivian slept fitfully that night. The next morning the hotel concierge called her and told her that someone was downstairs to see her. Vivian dressed shakily and headed down. Richard Lowell was in the lobby, and he didn’t look angry. His eyes were gentle as he reached out a hand and asked her if she would like to go for a drive. He took her to the top of a mountain road overlooking trees and meadows. He parked the car and turned to her.

“I thought about what you told me.”

She swallowed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be dishonest.”

“You weren’t.” There was a pause. “I don’t think you gave me time to respond, though. That wasn’t fair.”

Her stomach twisted in on itself.

“I’m almost thirty,” he said. “And I’ve been alone for most of my life. I just bought a house with some land and I’ve been thinking about the life I want to build for myself. The family I’d have.”

She looked up and his fingers brushed her cheek. “I want it all with you, Vivian.”

Her heart swelled. A trick, a flash of fate. But Richard was in front of her. His hands were holding hers.

“I knew it was you after our first conversation,” he professed breathlessly, his voice tender and deep. “I’ll never forget the sight of you in that red dress. I knew you would fascinate me for the rest of my life.”

Vivian blinked. Tears rose to her eyes as shock and happiness surged through her.

“And I didn’t… I don’t have a ring, or anything, not yet. I didn’t quite plan to have this conversation right now. And I know this is soon, but I know I’ll never meet anyone else like you. So. I am yours, if you’ll have me. I’ll love your daughters like my own, and we can make our own family.”