The waiter brings out the last plate of food to complete our banquet – a sticky plate of sweet, seared beef – and lights a small sparkler. He places it in Dan’s rice bowl and gives a little bow.
‘Happy birthday, Dan,’ he says with a grin.
Dan forces a grin back, ‘Another year bites the dust, Chen.’
‘May you have many more, mate. Doing anything special this year?’
Dan spreads his hands out, indicating Ava and me. His smile is tight.
‘Tomorrow I’m taking off for a weekend hike with some mates.’
‘Well, have a good one.’
Chen makes a subtle exit and Dan, Ava and I are forced to look at each other again without the buffer of a near-stranger.
‘The food looks good,’ I say.
‘As always,’ Dan says.
Ava picks up a chopstick and pokes it in her rice, trying to imitate what she’s seen us do countless times.
‘You need two, darling,’ Dan says. ‘Like this.’ He picks up Ava’s other chopstick and places it in her hand, trying to rearrange fingers and sticks into the right places. Ava resists the strange feeling and gives up, throwing the chopsticks on the table and using her fingers to pick up individual grains of rice, fascinated by the texture on her fingers and tongue.
‘We could be here all night at this rate,’ Dan says.
I pick up my own chopsticks. I’m aware that I’ve ruined this and we will never do any of this again. No more birthday dinners at Lim’s. No more sharing the small moments of Ava’s development. There is no laughter tonight, that’s all gone too.
Waiting until after Dan’s birthday to tell him seemed like a good decision at the time, and having one last celebration together as a family, for Ava’s sake, seemed like the right thing to do. But it’s nothing more than diversion and denial. And Dan knows something is up.
Now, when I close my eyes in quiet moments I see Alexander and me at my exhibition. We are a movie I play back in my mind, and now I’ve got fresh footage. Making love with him did not erase him, it enhanced him. My imagination was low def, reality is high def.
‘What are you thinking?’ Dan’s voice jolts me out of my memory. ‘You were smiling.’
‘Was I?’
‘I remember your happy smile. It’s been a while, but I’m pretty sure that’s what I saw,’ Dan says sadly.
I concentrate on my food because I feel dangerously close to the edge of something irretrievable.
‘You can tell me, Jennifer. I know, anyway. Don’t think you are sparing me by waiting until this charade is over.’ He waves his chopsticks over the embarrassingly laden table.
‘You know what?’
‘I know it’s over. I know we’re done.’
I glance at Ava. I don’t want to have this conversation in front of her, in a restaurant, but maybe it’s easier this way. No screaming scenes, no dramatics.
I can’t look at him.
I finally raise my eyes to his and he nods. He shuffles his chair a little closer to Ava and makes a determined effort to ignore me while he helps her eat her food.