I open my eyes to another morning, looking at the sheer window curtains swaying in the breeze from the air conditioner, like leaves on a tree, like the hem of a white dress, worn by a girl strolling contentedly on the beach, the sound of waves ebb and flowing along to the rhythm of her brisk steps on the sand. The encroaching waterline tries to catch her feet, but with a quick hop, the yellow skin on her feet remains dry, when she lands, rose flower petals rain down around her. I look up, I see Lydia in a white bridal dress, a bouquet of roses in her arm, her pretty face radiant with joy. I turn around and see William with his camera, snapping pics of Lydia leaping and posing in the air. I remember me doing a photoshoot for the wedding invitation on a beach near Glasgow.


“I’ve seen the pictures, they are really nice.” Remarked Const. Olivetee. “When did he propose?” 

“Right after I finished my probation in Hong Kong, I said Yes without hesitation.”

“Okay, tell me how Glasgow happened?”

“Will’s firm has shuttered the Hong Kong office and he chose to relocate to Glasgow, where his family has a small house on the outskirts of the city. I followed him without much planning.”

“That’s perfect, your childhood dream is becoming real.”

“A dream is only perfect when it is a dream, when it becomes tangible, it feels empty.”

“Don’t like living in the suburbs? Have trouble acclimatizing?”

“I have nothing here, the publishing scene here is different and not interested in my stories, applying for a work visa fell through because I was arrested once back home. Meanwhile Will is busy reconnecting with old pals from childhood, hanging out with workmates, getting elected in positions in the local AA fellowship. I tried to go with him to these activities, hiking trips, pool tourney, quiz nights… but I don't understand what people are saying, the accents, slang, different life values… What bothers me most is the general disinterest in me. Even Will is spending more and more time with his sponsees instead of with me.”

“This must be a testing time for your sobriety then?”

“It could be, but I also know of this little trick called ‘playing forward the tape’, where I would imagine what would happen if I picked up a bottle here, I’ll probably be dumped and then my travel visa would expire and I would be deported back to Hong Kong to start over. The fear of going back to Hong Kong alone is enough to keep me away from the bottle. But I find myself chain smoking again when Will is at work.”

“What about the wedding date? How did you two come to a consensus?”

“There is no need for a consensus, only ASAP. I need to get citizenship and find work, otherwise I would be bored out of my mind. I also made vague threats of relapsing. I know it looks bad on me, please don’t judge me.”  

“I get why you feel so desperate. What about local AA meetings, it’s a pretty good way to find support or do service to make passing time easier. You can make some new friends, maybe find some volunteering work, expand your life experiences, find new inspiration for writing.” 

“I did go to a ladies meeting, and when I was sharing honestly about why I got stuck at step 6, I said my self-serving defects were what kept me sober and clean, and I wasn’t willing to let go of these personality traits, and the other gals were sneering at me and I never went back. I don’t understand why they can’t be more sympathetic towards me. I was a displaced Chinese girl still trying to make sense of this new phase of life, I am also getting married, yet no one seems to care.”

“Really? Sometimes your imagination can be pretty erratic…”

“Are you calling me a loony bin now? I didn’t imagine things, I observed things. They don’t really converse with me, and they keep talking about visiting places that I can’t pronounce and spell, so I can’t even Google and do my research. The breaking point was one time they said fellowship dinner was cancelled, everyone drove away after the meeting, so I went to take the bus home, but I got on the wrong bus and went the opposite way, then guess what, I look out the bus window and see all the other fellows having a rapturous feast a few blocks away.” 

“You’ll probably be harbouring a lot of bitterness towards them.”

“Yeah, it all felt like my Higher Power no longer wanted to serve me.”

“Ha?! But the wedding did happen, like in your childhood dreams. You seem happy in the invitation photos, and you have a nice home.”


Olivertee shows me a pic of a house with a porch and a dozen windows. Was this supposed to be my home here? If it is, why don’t I feel a sense of Deja Vu? 


“Is this my home here?”

“Yeah, this is the house you listed as your residential address when passing through customs.”

“I don’t recognize it.”

“Oh? Try picturing yourself lounging on the porch, or having a smoke at the window, take your time.”


I insert myself in the picture, I sit on the porch, looking at green pastures, majestic trees, the occasional runaway sheep zipping by, all while accompanied by birdsong, I open the door and walk inside, a staircase, a fireplace, a record player; I put on some music, opened a window and lit a cigarette. This does feel familiar. I turn around, walk past the staircase into a kitchen that’s double the size of my Hong Kong home, I run my fingers across the marble tabletop, sunrays reflected on my face via the bronze cookware, I close my eyes. I remember myself cooking a three course meal while Will is just arriving home from work. I also remember us huddled in front of the fireplace, watching the embers float up the chimney while we worked out the logistics of the ceremony.


Everything should feel picture perfect, this was the vision of adult life that has been burned onto Lydia’s prefrontal cortex since 10, minus the glitz and drinks, but it’s good enough. The husband could have been more present, but Lydia didn’t understand Will is strengthening his adherence to the programme so he can better support her when the isolation became too unbearable and she relapses - Lydia did repeatedly tell Will she felt empty inside since uprooting her life. 


“Well actually, why do you sometimes use the third person Lydia when recounting events? Was it your way of coping with hurt and pain?”

“No, I insist that I am at peace with the things that I cannot change. Maybe it’s just the writer's side of my brain playing tricks with my words.”

“Well, why do you feel empty when you have everything going for you?”

“I don’t know, I feel like I’m in a chess game, I’ve taken out all the opposing chess pieces except the Black King, but I also am only left with a White Knight by my side, the game is in a hopeless stalemate, yet I still had to move, but there is no endgame, no checkmate, just circling the same squares over and over.”

“...I don’t really know about chess…So, I am thinking like, are there any jitters preparing for the big day?”

“Nope, I just click on a bunch of websites and apps and everything I need is delivered to and set up on the front lawn.” 

“So, no arguments over the guestlist? Floral arrangement? What about the honeymoon destination?” 

“Guestlist are all people from his side, no one from Hong Kong reaches out to me anymore. Floral arrangement has always required a girl’s touch so he knows I don’t need his input. Honeymoon destination? My recollection is a bit hazy.”

“You two booked air tickets to Mallorca, was that supposed to be it?” 

“Mallorca?”

“In Spain?”

“Yes.”

“Oh right, there’s an AA convention Will has to go right after the wedding, he was elected as some sort of representative. I was supposed to go along as a sober spouse.”

“Was supposed to?”


Lydia pauses for a moment and returns to the house, to the fireplace, into Will’s embrace, and playbacks the scene where they work out wedding logistics. 

Lydia: I look forward to exploring Mallorca with you after the convention. 

William: You know I love you and would fight for you right?

Lydia: Of course I know.

William: (Deep sigh) You can’t go to the convention.

Lydia: Why?

William: Jack is on the organizing committee and put you on the persona non grata list. 

Lydia: WTF?

William: I tried to reason with him, what you’ve done in the past is in the past; but I don’t know if you read it or not, in Tradition 1, unity and common welfare always comes first, and the convention must be a safe confidential space. What you published in the past almost put a chink in the unity of the Hong Kong fellowship, and AA is not the kind of group with lawyers and NDAs, so I do accept it’s the best if you don’t go. I really love and am proud of you for being sober all this time, but I have to agree with Jack on this. So, No, you can’t go to Mallorca with me.

Tears flowed down Lydia’s cheek, as this is the first time that Will has said No to her, it hurts to see him side with the fellowship and not her, and to not side with her on such an important matter as honeymoon destination, really broke her heart.

William: I’ll Facetime you whenever I can, breakfast, lunch, dinner, I’ll sing Spanish lullabies, it’s just like I’m on a work trip, and I’ll be back beside you within a week, we’ll then go to Mallorca on our own, just the two of us, isn’t this better? Please don’t be mad. I love you. 

Lydia: …I love you too. (What fucking else can I do? Piss off back to a bathroomless home in Hong Kong?)


“How did you cope with this setback?”

“I don’t remember. I think I got so depressed I just sleepwalked through the whole preparation and wedding. I don’t feel love, I switched off emotionally, signing on the wedding certificate is like filling out a worksheet, saying ‘I do’ is like saying ‘Thank you’ after asking for directions. I now remember I smiled and laughed throughout the day because I don’t want to make it difficult for Will. I also didn’t want people to think even more negatively of me. It’s also a humble celebration of union catered for a group of humble fellows, so nothing exciting and memorable happens.”

“Uh-huh.” Olivetee clicks on his iPad. “I couldn’t tell what you are actually feeling in the photos, you hide your feelings very well behind such an infectious smile.”

“I know I was very pretty that day.”

“Tell me more about that day, you are looking pretty in a wedding dress, who was there? Anyone from Hong Kong? In-laws? From AA? From work? Relatives?”

“Ehmmm… Will doesn’t want his drinking relatives ruining the vibe so he only invited the in-laws, a few from work, three or five childhood friends, then a bunch of AA people from all over UK, a nice couple from HK… and fucking Jack as well.” 

“How did you feel when you saw him?”

“I already told you, I didn’t feel anything that day.”

“So can you recall what else happened that day? Walking down the aisle? Exchanging vows? Tossing the bouquet?”

“I remember it started raining when we were taking group photos. Everyone ducked inside the house, filled up the porch, it was so packed. I remember feeling so suffocated by the people that didn’t accept me as one of their own, even when I have a ring on my finger. Then I ran out of the house for some air, I didn’t care if I was drenched in rain, I needed to be alone. I found my way to the cellar door and hid in the basement and cried.”

“Sorry you felt that way.” 

“And no one came to fetch me, no one cared about me, I can hear their jolly footsteps stomping on me, thump, thump, thump, it was so deafening, I lit up a cigarette to calm myself, but it wasn’t enough, I rummaged through the old forgotten crates, thinking maybe there is a forgotten bottle of something and Bingo! There is a dusty bottle of Scotch, but I froze, I know drinking it won’t solve anything, then I smell smoke, the cigarette ashes burned tiny holes on my dress, and I knew what to do. If I can’t feel joy, then no one else are fucking allowed to feel joy. I emptied the bottle on a wooden pillar, lit it up and watched the flames dance its way towards the basement ceiling, it was mesmerizing, it was… serene. I let go of masking my rage. I turn away and head for the cellar door, and… and… I think I smell gas… and… It’s an accident!”

“It’s alright, I think you’ve said enough. I am stopping the interview now at 4:14p.m., Sept 1st, 2025.” Constable Olivertee declares.

“Hey wait, you cannot submit that in court, you cannot question me without a lawyer present. This is not my first rodeo, so good luck.” Lydia is calm as a lily pond.

“Your lawyer has always never left your side since you woke up from surgery. You were so focused on building up a portrait of a victim with a wounded soul that you neglected to recall your husband is a lawyer.”

“Ex-husband.” A familiar voice rocked Lydia’s world. “And I regretted not going to Mallorca with my fellows, all of them are having a blast and sending me pics that made me envious, but I have to stay and know. Maybe if you drank the Scotch, there will still be a way forward, but now, you’ve sealed your fate. Goodbye.”

“William, I'm sorry.”

Lydia can hear weeping.

“William?”

Silence.

Lydia mustered all the strength to turn her head hoping to take one last look at William, but instead all she can see is a vacant glass wall, in the reflection, her fully bandaged body, a body that no longer has a complete face. She wanted to scream, but her facial bandages held down her lips, denying her the avenue to let out her anguish, and made sure all her anguish will consume her from the inside.