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.

I was short of breath when I reached him. "I thought you were behind me!"

"Same here," he said, wrinkling his nose. "When I turned around, you weren't there. But then I remembered I didn't say which path we would take."

We continued walking. Several families had gathered outside for a barbeque. I normally didn't take this path; the open greenery, occupied by a few houses and neatly planted trees, made everything quiet. Too much open space. "No worries. You have a better sense of direction than me. Say, why did you drive around here so much?"

Tai ducked his head, though a spark entered his rounded brown eyes. "There's lots of cul-de-sacs in American suburbs compared to here. Canada has grid patterns that make everything way less confusing. It's more suited for public transport, the big roads connect to the downtown area, and smaller city services are scattered throughout. Most people still use their cars though, and I admit that control and certainty are a lot more comforting to me than public transit. But in Vietnam, cars are giant chunks of metal that block the alleyways."

I tried to relate it back to what I knew. "So you've been to your home country at least once then. That's nice. Does it remind you of home? Because it looks like driving relaxes you," I clarified.

"Yeah, it does. A lot. My parents and sisters can be a lot, especially in a house where hollering is everyone's normal speaking voice." I laughed lightly. "Here though it's a lot easier to understand where everything is, and I can hear my own thoughts and sing if I want to."

We rounded another corner, where I told Tai to watch the uneven slabs of gravel awash in lamplight. My heels could cause a dangerous fall if I wasn't paying attention. Night was falling fast, and the familiar dark shapes of the sprawling told me we had made an entire loop without crossing a road. Tai preferred walking in and out of the neighbourhood roads, to explore them thoroughly. Until I met Tai, I couldn't believe someone could be so passionate about their interests.

"You have a wonderful singing voice, Tai," I insisted. "I never understood why you are so intent on downplaying your ability. Are your parents not supportive of your career?"

"They weren't thrilled but I wouldn't say that's the cause," he replied. He stared intently at my feet. "I don't know. I just have a habit of avoiding things, and avoiding what people say. That's why I admire your confidence. You're so sure of yourself. But I--I think....you have the same problem as me. Of avoiding things."

"What do you mean?"

"Your parents."

He stopped in the middle of a cul-de-sac. The sidewalk arched up on either side, disappearing over the hilly landscape, while we stood where the land dipped to make a U-shape. A lamppost towered nearby, throwing everything into sharp light and shadow.

"At the bar, you cut off the conversation after I mentioned Scotland," Tai continued. "Does it have something to do with your cultural disconnect?"

There was no sidestepping the thorny subject. I touched my short black hair as strands waved in the breeze. "Partly that. I wish to travel. My focus was academics when I was young, and nowadays I rather not abandon my marketing job to travel. It also helps me avoid thinking about them. My parents."

Tai pulled back from my expression. I faced towards the lamppost, so while it was difficult to discern what Tai was feeling, I knew the prickly heat creeping up my neck.

He shook his head. "Why do you hate your parents so much? You keep mentioning them, but then pretend that nothing happened."

"I let it slip. But I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Tai shifted from foot to foot. He stared at my heels. "It's making you uncomfortable. That makes me worried. Talking about it helps. I want to understand, Nora. Why run away? Why cut all communication with them? That's...that's like..."

His distress cracked my heart. "Say it, Tai. I've heard it all before. It's unnatural, selfish, rude. I don't regret it. Some families are just different. Distance is healthy."

I angled my face away from his so he wouldn't see my anguish. But Tai was like no one I'd ever met. Instead of meeting my eyes like he was trying to gouge out the truth, he played with his keychain in his hands. The keys made snap-click-snap sounds. They spread apart and came together with his fingers like a mechanical flower, and before I could remark it was a neat trick, he balled his hand in a fist.

"It's sad," he finally said. "And this feeling...I'm not good at recognizing it but I feel sorry for you. I would try to reach out again. Family's important. I think you care too, deep down. Because--well I don't know Nora. You talk about all these aspects of your life here, and then your family is like this blank space I don't even know about you. It's hard to connect when our interests don't overlap. I don't know what I'm doing wrong," he sighed finally.

"It has nothing to do with you," I said, my soft words bordering on exasperation.

The lamppost hummed. Stray leaves whispered against the grass. What was a relationship without communication? What kind of relationship was this if I couldn't be honest, just like the way my parents treated me?

He said it a moment before I could. "C-Could we take a break?"

"Okay," I said, with a quiet exhale. "I think that would be good, for now."

We retraced the path we took, all the way back to the downtown core. Tai's humming evolved from a simple melody to a complicated, jittery tune. Finally we reached my condo. The warm lights from my condo's lobby promised me comfort and rest. Arching my neck up to the windows of the sixth floor, I discerned Meabh's feline silhouette. Her tail waved in recognition.

I turned to face him. I took a deep breath, afraid the act would shatter the tension and let it leak out to the world. As usual, he avoided my gaze, preferring to look at my shoes. Behind him he had parked his car, waiting to be driven back to Kingston, two hours away from my town.

"We'll keep each other's contacts?" I asked. "Until we see each other again."

He nodded, seeming relieved. "I don't think I'll text anymore, then."

"Oh. Right."

"...Is this a break-up?" he asked carefully.

"No. I hope not."

"If it's not, I figured it would be appropriate to state my opinion." He rubbed his neck. "I think it's important to keep in touch with your family, you know? My family isn't perfect. A lot of times, they don't understand me. My sisters, they'll say things that are hurtful. Even if they call it a joke. But my parents did a lot for me. Think of it as roads in a city. They're connected in some way, and there's dead ends and sometimes things aren't built right, but there are shortcuts. People find ways to build around it. And I think that someone like you can do that, Nora. Find a way without running away."

If harsh words dug deeper than skin, then this was the crushing blow. But I looked at Tai and, impossibly, found the sincerity I was looking for. There was a glimmer of truth. My parents. Their daughter. Reuniting. I'd forgotten what they've looked like at this point, and I had fossilized those people into the worst they have done to me.

I gave the slightest shake of my head. "That sounds nice. And I'm sure that's true for some people. But I can't. Thank you, Tai. Let's meet again sometime."

He nodded, got in his car, and drove away. Not one of my previous dates had come back, and I wondered if he knew that too. I'd refrained from using my power, but even with his keychains, it wouldn't tell me anything new about myself. There was no use learning about someone if in the end, you barely know yourself.

I rode the elevator up to my floor. Meabh meowed from the inside of my apartment. I smiled; she must have heard my keys from the hallway. I unlocked the door and scooped her up.

"Have you been waiting for me all night?" I asked, stroking her head. She purred, then jumped out of my arms and headed to her empty food bowl. "All right. I'm hungry too."

Note: "Meabh" is pronounced as Mayve, like the month May but with a v at the end. It is Irish.