Keychains ✔

I

They said that you sought a romantic partner who resembled your parents. If that was the truth, what would say about my partner? About myself? Perhaps my marketing background had shaped this perception. After running away from home, I'd latched onto the explanations that aligned with my hope: that the dynamic, open-minded world held more power to shape the person I was than the parents who had raised me.

But my family's blood would run in my veins regardless. My visage would retain the oval slope of my mother's, my father's long nose, my tendency to keep my lips in a straight line rather than smile until it was too late to find a significant other. And when I did, I questioned myself: Who did they see in me? Their mother? Their father? Most likely, they saw the cracks that my own parents had left in me. It was more feasible than imagining I resembled a figure whom I associated my deepest resentment for.

The late September evening welcomed us as we stepped outside Coop's Bistro and Bar. The bar glowed with lights and laughter. For a moment, the discomfort between us dispelled. The sound of cars swelled and faded in the early evening light. Tai hummed a tune akin to thick strokes on a canvas before the brush flicked upwards; relaxing, but with an undercurrent of energy. I hoped he had forgotten about the conversation before I excused myself to the washroom. By then, the bar had filled with patrons and noise.

"You forgot this," I said, holding up his keychains. The worn metal tags clacked as I placed it in his palm. They glinted; the Korean peninsula, a Brazilian flag, and a Scottish heart-shaped pendant. He was very young when he visited Scotland, he'd told me, so he didn't remember many details about my homeland. Where my parents immigrated from. Thankfully I went to the washroom before he could ask about them.

"Thanks, Nora," Tai breathed, as the panic faded from his rounded eyes. He gripped it. "I'd hate to lose it after explaining how much it meant to me."

"I know. I didn't realize the bar was so busy, and when I didn't see you at the table, I--"

He finished texting with his mom and slipped it into his pocket, along with his earphones. My words died as his questioning glance dispelled the flare of anger I'd aimed at him. Anger and fear of losing another person before I had the chance to even know him.

"I just got confused, that's all," I said, smiling. "You don't do well with crowds, right?"

He relaxed. "No. I should have texted you, but it was overwhelming and I couldn't think straight. But I'm okay now. How about a walk? We can take the route down Yonge, then go through the Estates neighbourhood." Black hair ruffling in the breeze, Tai held out a hand. I accepted it, loosely interlocking my cold, pale fingers into his slim, tan ones.

"You sure this is okay?" I asked, knowing how uncomfortable he was with touching.

He smiled a bit. "Yeah. It's nice."

It was our third date. Neither of us tried to get cozy with the other, and I was relieved, because the polite distance spoke of young, easily broken bonds. A clean break. Not painful and jagged like glass.Still, my instinct to lean into Tai pulled me like ocean tides. The more frequent you fell out of love, I supposed, the more tempting it was to fall back in.

As we walked down Yonge Street, my high heels clicked with the soft scuffing of his sneakers against the sidewalk, illuminated by tall iron lamp posts. The downtown core was still active; customers spilled out of shops and offices in the early evening light. I waved to Hannah when we passed her confectionary; she smiled back and blew us a teasing kiss. Tai's mind was elsewhere, fortunately, and when he asked why I laughed, I said because I was happy, and it was true.

We took a few turns off the main road and entered the neighbourhood area, where wealthy honey-brick houses sloped down in a gentle valley. In the distance towered the GreenGlass corporate building. A tiny spike of adrenaline shot through me before I reassured myself that I had plenty of time for work. Tonight I could relax. On that note, I slowed down my brisk pace for Tai. Air drifted freely through my fingers where his hand was just moments ago. I looked in all directions. He appeared at the end of the block, a speck among swathes of grass and leaves.