Sage Heart
On Thursday night, I'm standing in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom, evaluating my appearance:
Unlike before, my makeup is a bit heavier, but still manageable. The weak pink eye-shadow makes my brown eyes look darker, and the light layer of rosy blush on my cheeks enhanced my cheekbones, causing them to become more pronounced. A tint of pale red have coated my plump lips, and my long lashes have been curled to accentuate my eyes.
I'm wearing a red, sleeveless, hi-low dress that showcases my small waist and lithe legs. The fabric is covered in tiny sequins, so whenever I move, the fabric sparkles like the stars against a red sky. The skirt is short in the front and long in the back. The front hem is lined with golden brown ruffles, the same color as the high heels with complicated straps which end just a few inches above my ankles.
I smooth down my long wavy hair, the lower part curled to look wild and enticing. I'm wearing a thin headband with a red rose pinned on the left side, cornered by green leaves.
"You can do this," I tell my reflection firmly.
Date Four: April 18: Ballroom Dance
From the outside, Moon Restaurant looks incredibly grand and classy, even more so inside.
Jae, whose ebony hair, usually messy, is now slick, shiny and smooth as he had it gelled back, exposing his pale forehead. He's wearing an immaculate black suit with deep red tie that matche my dress.
He makes a gesture with his left arm. I eye his elbow warily, raising an eyebrow at him, but the expression on his face compels me to walk closer and loop my arm around his.
The interior is dimly lit with mini chandeliers radiating a soft glow. The round tables were draped with maroon tablecloths over white ones with flowers at the center. The sight is so overwhelming, it takes a while for me to realize that classical music is playing in the background.
By the time we finish all our courses, a six-piece had begun setting up at the podium at the back of the room. When the band starts to play, people from the other tables stand up and head to what seems like a dance floor.
Then suddenly, Jae rises from his chair, holding out a hand to me. I accept it and stand up.
He leads me to the dance floor, paying absolutely no attention to my weak protests, and as soon as we join the other couples, he places his hands on my waist. I concede and let mine rest on his shoulders.
"How am I as a fake-boyfriend so far?" he asks me as we begin to sway to the music.
There's a hesitant note in his voice. When I look at him, I know what he really wants to say; His heart is glowing a nervous purple.
"I thought I would be more reluctant, but now.. I don't know how to feel." I let out a sigh and drop my gaze. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
I peer out at him.
"You don't have anything to be sorry about," he adds. But the smile on his face is enough to tell me just how unsettled he feels. After a moment, he says, "Gem and Bianca picked that dress for you yesterday," as an attempt to change the subject.
"Really? Tell them thank you, and that I love it." I beam at him. Upon closer inspection, I notice the pain in his dark gray eyes. "Ham?" I whisper questioningly.
"Sorry," he says, blinking twice before focusing on me. "It's Bianca. It's just.. until now, I can't believe she was bullied..and that she was a bully herself."
For a few seconds, I'm not sure what to say.
Jae catches my uneasy expression and tells me quickly, "It's--it's like I know she's a good person. She is. She just.. happened to make a bad decision."
I suddenly step closer, finding the need to press the side of my head against his shoulder. "But her misbehavior doesn't define her as a person, her whole character. It doesn't nullify the other good things about her. It's just a mistake."
I feel him stop moving for a while, prompting me to look up at him.
"I'm not saying it's okay to ignore it, because it's not. What I'm saying is that it's just one thing about her that you can't love, but that doesn't mean that you can't love the other good things," I continue.
For a moment, Jae just stares at me. I think I might have overstepped some invisible boundary again, but then, slowly, a grateful smile appears on his face.
"Why do you always know what to say?"
"What are you talking about?"
"It's like you can look at things in a different light. In a way that most people can't."
I shake my head. "You're just overthinking things."
"No," he says. "Most people can't see through the bad things. You can. You acknowledge the bad things, but you can still see the good things."
I fall silent. We just continue dancing until the song ends.
Jae carefully pulls me closer as the next song starts. His hands wrap around my waist. I tentatively place my hands on his shoulders, trying to ignore the tingles quickly spreading from where his hands are holding me.
He grins at me and pulls me even closer, so my hands meet somewhere at the back of his neck. There's almost no space between us as he holds me in place.
"Can you dance quickly in those heels?" he murmurs in my ear, his warm breath making me shiver.
"Why?" I whisper back, still swaying to the slow, seductive music.
"Because per my request, the next song will be fast. Do you know how to Salsa?"
She frowns at me. "No."
"Then follow my lead."
Date Five: April 19: Night Picnic/Stargazing
Date Six: April 20: Museum Hopping
Date Seven: April 21: Bike-riding/Hiking
Date Eight: April 22: Planetarium
Date Nine: April 23: Bowling
"Sage," says Elana over the phone after my bowling date with Jae. "You know it's too late to stop, right?" The worry in her voice is unmistakable.
My fingers grip my green phone tightly. "Yes, I know," I reply through clenched teeth as I stare at the white-tiled floor.
"Do you think.. maybe he isn't The One you're looking for?"
I've been asking myself that question every single day ever since I met Jae Ridge Ham.
"El, you know there's only one way to find out, but I can't risk killing him." As I say this, I can feel my chest constrict with pain.
"Then this will all be for naught!"
"He's the one who insisted," I say, hating my defensive tone.
"Sage.." Elana's voice trails off, but I know what she wants to say. "I'm just worried about you. We all are."
"I know what I'm doing," I respond more certainly than I feel.
"Do you?" she asks, sounding skeptical.
For the longest time, I can't answer.
