Neon Lights

TWENTY THREE

I drove him out to the cabin by the beach. She'd shown it to me once, Laila, the first time she brought me into this country. I was sixteen back then, I remember- but I remembered the roadmap by brain, from the airport - which is to say I drove us to the airport so I could map it out. It'd extended driving hours significantly, but it had to be done. He was asleep over the backseats, gauze over his eyes, half dizzy from anesthesia and wear had to be exhaustion, he hadn't slept a wink. We'd spent the rest of thar night plotting- about his leave for recovery. About what to do about the company in his absence, about what to tell his wife to be, the media. Anticipated recovery period was about two months, giveor take, he'd have to figure out what to do in the second month. I had to fight to stay awake for the drive, sunset dipped into the ocean just after we got to it. It was, the perfect beach house. A little secluded, among foreigners and small enough that it wasn't intimidating. Did I have a key? No. No I didn't but, but I did have suspiciously specific information on how to break through the lock and managed to. He stayed asleep at the back of my car as I moved the bags inside, dusted and cleaned around and prepared a salad from the fruits id briught with us. It was almost eight when I finally brought him inside. This one wasn't a large thing, a little apartment of sorts , open kitchen concept, one room, couch and TV. It was big enough but clearly not made for two, but we'd have to make do somehow. He had the salad while I cleaned the room and decided we needed more sheets, and food. And of course, a new lock. I'd have that installed the following day. Alex slept on the bed while I took the couch, which was a speedy reminder to add mattress to that list.

The combination to the safe still worked. Alex had brought with him- I shit you not, a bag of money but I'd never been the type to ask, so early morning before the sun was in the sky I left for town, and him in sleep. Shopping took longer than I expected, but the beauty of a beach town is tourism made Emglish more or less the main language.

He wasn't awake yet when I got back, a fresh supply of towels and food and toiletries . I'd just finished throwing in some egg and toast when he stumbled past the door. This wasn't his house, he had no lenses and no familiarity to it, it would be as challenging as it got but it had to be done. I helped him to the couch and after breakfast took him on an audio only tour, we'd need more of those. His head hurt. I let him have his medicine and sent him back to bed. He refused to leave. This wasn't like the house in the city, or the Mansion- this had no room or office to escape to- we were quite literally stuck with each other. Here we had to face each other with both the past and present and- making a debut into my life- future. We spent most of the day on verbal directions, three meters three o'clock,  yes that's the couch. Rearranging the cabinets to some semblance of the house in the city. I did laundry while he lay down, he napped while I finished setting up the cabin into a home and in the afternoon we decided on a walk by the beach. It was a private beach, secluded enough that I didn't have to constantly look over my shoulder. The option wasn't complete ruled out, he was a Moon Ga after all and till now I felt this need to protect him. I had to.

Also, I had to buy him and I beach clothes, the closest I got was a summer dress & he folded linen pants over his knees and a linen shirt. It worked well enough. He'd have to get a buzz cut later, I told him this- he said he'd rather die. This wasn't us. In the daylight, like this- we had lived through the night till this point, with distractions enough to hold lines. This was raw, open, with no chance at running.

"So, this house "

"Laila" we'd found a cliff , just us in sight and the blue ocean. The sun was a beautiful ball of orange in the reflection, it was sad he couldn't see it "she showed it to me once"

"Sometimes,  it feels like she was more of a mother to you than to me. Like she loved you more"

Oh. Straight to the heart to heart. Was he grieving? Was this his way of grieving?