My Unexpected Marriage to The Loveless CEO

Chapter 8 🌷

I look outside the window. As the train moves and sways, the only thing that never seems to fade is the scenery of the hills in the distance. I glance at my watch. One hour has silently passed, leaving only 4 hours left before the cold, hilly air that travels through the open - window coach is replaced with the taste of salt in the air.

Irene waves her hand at me once I get off the train. She is dressed up casually in a sundress which stops below her knees. "Your Royal Highness," her Freudian slips echoes, which causes her eyes to grow twice its original size. "I'm sorry," she immediately bows her head, then lifts it up once again to stare at me, her cheeks reddened in crimson. "Lisa, I mean"

"It's alright," I let go of the facemask and is immediately greeted by the salty air blowing my way. Then, I hand her my overnight bag. "Where is she?" I ask, noticing the car parked next to her is empty without its usual passenger. Irene smiles. "Apparently, someone sent another book from the city, so she's been rereading it again and again,"

I allow myself to nod. Then, I offer to chauffeur us both back. Irene nods, gladly giving me the chance and I don't wait long to ignite the engine. It's been too long, a month and a half, and I wonder if she misses me the way I miss her.

***

Dongsan prefecture is a 5 hours train - only travel from Seoul. It's a small town, with a total population of only 1000 people. Half of the population works as fishermen, while the remaining serving as either shopkeepers or running odd errands.

As I drive on the brick road in the direction blessed abundantly by the sunray, my mind replays how I found out about this beautiful town in the first place. It was many moons ago, in the middle of a random Thursday afternoon, mentioned briefly in one of the literature books I used to read. The first time I visited the place, I was greatly taken aback.

Because for a place I had only been, it felt more like home than anywhere else.

Irene had lent a helpful hand throughout the whole process of acquiring a tall, antique home with five floors and a spacious attic. It's located on the 3rd Dongsan Road, a block away from a bakery operated by a kind lady of Dongsa tribe who bakes delicious loaves of bread; two blocks away from a line of sundry stores selling what every household needs and four blocks away from the sea and the wall that surrounds Dongsan town.

A brief legend mentions; that the wall was built to protect the city from brutal corsairs that sailed across the open sea for months and wanted a place to rest. But I somehow believe, while that might be partially true, the wall's truest purpose is to save the city from the fear of drowning. The waves here, while beautiful, can be monsters at times.

"You seem to have the map around the town memorised," Irene jokes lightly. I keep my hands steady around the wheels. "You can't forget home that easily, can you" the wind whistles and I take a right turn, where a small signage painted in sage green comes into sight.

3rd Dongsan Road.

The car travels through the lane, passing each house. Here, each house is built unique. The first of the block is a medium tall, two floors house and the second doubles the size and floor until we reach the fourth house with five floors above. I smile. We are home.

***

A collection of faint butterfly paintings greet me once I invite myself in. I feast my eyes on each of it, then, I take my shoes off and switch to household slippers. "I'll be in the kitchen," Irene says. Then, she eyes the clock on the pale blue wall. "It's almost tea time,"

"Sure," I ascend the stairs to the first floor where a huge butterfly memorabilia is kept. I take my own time here. My finger lightly brushes the frame on the wall which hosts a Clouded Yellow. Surprisingly, I find no dust on its frame. Then, amongst all of the butterflies collection, a pale, Silver - Studded Blue appears.

Beautiful. Breathtaking. Majestic.

I climb into the second floor. It hosts three guest bedrooms, each with their own sink and small bathroom. It has a round window facing the brick road, where soft wind blows into. At night, a rich number of constellations adorn the dark, mysterious sky.

The third floor is a nursery painted in pale blue with a carpeted floor. It has a faint butterfly design all over its wall and ceiling and is the major reason behind its original name; Wings of the Blues. I press my lips as I enter the floor. Anytime soon, someone could be ambushing me from behind. It happens every time I'm home.

I'm not going to let it happen this time.

As I take another step towards the room at the corner end of the floor, a childish voice echoes behind my back.

"Mama?"

I turn around. There she is; my little blue butterfly.

She's holding a book in hand; the book I found exclusively on Braille News and knew right away it'd be her favourite.

A book about the butterfly.

"I know it's you," her head is tilted in the direction of a half - shut window. I press my lips. She's not going to win this time. "It's really you," she grins, letting the book go as she runs to hug me.

I laugh in defeat as I hug her. "How did you know it's me? My little blue butterfly?"

I kiss her temple and she giggles, not looking at me in the eyes. "I remember you scent," she giggles again. Then, one hand travels to her head. "It's etched in here, your scent. My memory. I remember"

"You sure do, my love"