Chapter Two: The Blank Book of Vows

That was true. At least, it was the truth she remembered. The tasting manager brought dessert. Xubai sampled it and said, “We should replace this. You dislike the sharpness of raspberry.” Their love was made of details like that. He remembered that hotel fragrance gave her headaches and that she pinched her right little finger when nervous. On the anniversary of her mother's death, he knew not to offer comfort, only to walk beside her along the river. A heart might be silent. Actions were not. At home, Lin Wan locked the book in the lowest drawer of the study. At two in the morning, she returned barefoot and took it out. The page still said: Write what you wish he would remember.