only the beginning

Rachel doesn't know what to think, how to feel. She's really done it. She's finally managed to escape the insanity that is the Young family. Or as Peik Lin so eloquently put it, "Walking away from Nick and his family's fat-ass property portfolio."

She glances out the window of the plane absently. There's nothing to look at other than a wide expanse of white, but she continues staring at it anyways. The adrenaline rush that had hit her after the mahjong game is wearing off, and right now she feels like she's been hit by a pile of bricks, both physically and emotionally.

If only things had happened differently. If only Nick's family wasn't a bunch of rich snobs, if only her birth father hadn't been an asshole, if only Eleanor wasn't been such a bit--. She sighs. They aren't worth her anger. Cussing them out won't do anything, won't even make her feel any better.

Rachel knows that she should feel relieved, instead of this horrible, irrational sense of dread. She should feel a sense of closure, or something sappy like that that only exists in old rom-coms and Mandarin soap operas. Unfortunately, tragically, her life isn't a movie. This is real, and things didn't just end so cleanly like that. Not in the real world.

___

Rachel resumes her teaching position at the university instantly. She needs the distraction, she needs to make herself so tired that she couldn't think or process the disaster of Singapore. So that's what she does, flinging herself into her work. It works. Almost.

She doesn't realise that Nick would be coming back too. He should be back in Singapore, managing his father's business, and hosting parties with porcelain cucumber water dishes just for washing your hands. That's his life now, the plan that Eleanor had set for him, so she's pretty shocked when she passes by him in the hall. She does a double-take, unsure if that's actually him. Is this a dream? Is this a nightmare? What the fuck?

They lock eyes, and that adorable crease appears between his eyebrows, like it always does when he's upset. He's very much real. Nick opens his mouth to say something, but Rachel dashes away as quickly as she can, her heart beating furiously in her chest. Once she's safe in the bathroom, she gives in, and bawls like a baby, weeks of pent-up emotion finally bursting.

Of course, it doesn't make her feel any better. With shaking fingers, she calls her mom, and meekly asks her if she can pick her up. Like she's a little middle schooler that has just been teased by the popular girls for her almond-shaped eyes, and now breaking down in the nurse's office. Like she's not an adult with a perfectly functioning car parked outside, but just terrified of having to face Nick again.

Thankfully, her mother doesn't press her for the details, and promises to arrive as soon as possible. Rachel thanks her, then hangs up. She passes the time by staring at the engravings scrawled into the door, wondering who did them, and what the A+M surrounded by a heart stands for. Are they still A+M, or are they just A and M now? Are they happy?

Her phone chimes with a text from Kerry Chu. Here.

Rachel grabs a wad of toilet paper, hastily drying her face. She doesn't care if her makeup looks like shit right now (which it definitely does), but she doesn't want people to think she'd dunked her face in the sink. She assesses herself in the mirror. Not too bad, considering the ten minute crying session. Rachel's hand fumbles to open the door, and she steps out, keeping her head ducked.