37 (Part Two)
In The Dark
...
The rain is still hammering down, the city positively soaked under these dark grey clouds, making everything seem much darker than it is. My damp hair sits discarded in a messy bun on top of my head, my skin still cold to the touch as I pad through my apartment in sweats, stuffing things I need into a backpack.
Since seeing her face on the TV screen twenty minutes ago, everything here reminds me of her. I look to my bed and see her lying in hospital, I look to the kitchen and smell the cafeteria we'd sit in, I look to the couch and see her in her wheelchair. Her face is plastered across my mind, and it's driving me mad.
So I've decided to leave.
Me: Can I stay with you for a few days?
I don't have to wait very long for an answer, my eyes plastered on my phone screen.
Jinseo: Yes definitely, everything okay?
Me: Thank you. I'll tell you when I get there, leaving now.
Putting on my raincoat and grabbing my backpack, I don't look back as I step outside and shut the door, my eyes closed in worry that her face will be waiting for me out here too.
Sighing, I open my eyes to the rain, everything a hazy blur.
Everything including the black car still parked on the road.
Why is he still here?
I focus on the steps as I make my way down, trying not to notice the car door opening and shutting, the sounds of footsteps rushing over. Once I reach the bottom, the rain above me suddenly halts, a figure standing in my way.
Blinking up at him, I notice the ghost of a worried expression in his otherwise blank eyes. His gaze flickers over my backpack, "Where are you going?"
I swallow the lump in my throat, avoiding his eyes that are coldly searching mine, "Jinseo."
He looks to the ground, shifting his grip on the umbrella before taking my hand. I slowly look up in confusion, but before I can say anything, he's leading me to the car and opening the door, "Get in."
I'm trying to suss out his intentions, trying to read his face. He doesn't look me in the eye as he closes my door, when he gets in, or when he starts driving.
I start to feel pathetic. What must he think of me at this point? A murderer who fled from her country, a lier who fooled everyone she's met, a manipulative bitch who used his feelings for her to get what she wanted.
My heart convulses at the thought of him hating me. But I can't deny that I lied. And even though it would break me, if he wanted me gone, I wouldn't blame him.
The journey is quiet, save for the deep resonating hum of rain falling on the moving car. I watch the windshield wiper blade slide from side to side, my eyes set on how smooth the glass looks just for a millisecond, before it all becomes blurred again.
I don't pay attention to where we are, not until the car turns into an underground car park, the rain above now gone, allowing the screech of the tyres on the slick floor to be heard. Well lit with white and blue tones, clean enough to see the light bouncing off of the walls, the large room almost reminds me of an operating theatre, a few expensive shiny cars here and there.
My puffy eyes narrow in confusion, "Where are we?"
He parks and shifts the gear into neutral, turning off the engine. "You're staying with me, I'll tell Jinseo."
My eyes widen in speculation, "Why?"
As his hand still rests on the wheel, he blinks slowly at the windscreen, before finally turning to face me, "Because we need to talk."
——————
I may be having a pre-midlife crisis, with all the necessary trepidations and complications, but even as I walked into his apartment, I couldn't stop the awe that registered in my mind, although I doubt that it showed on my exhausted face.
Thankfully.
He probably doesn't need to see the crazy lying manipulative bitch gushing about how rich he is.
Instead, I walk over to the couch. My fingers trace the smooth fabric as I look out of the floor-to-ceiling windows at the gloomy city of Seoul, the tips of the other high-rises visible through the grey haze.
I turn around to face him, still unsure of his reaction thus far. He's stood in the entrance way, brown eyes watching me. The silence is almost too much to bear, until his ringtone stuns us both back to the present. He turns his attention away and starts speaking into the receiver.
Walking numbly over to the window, I place both feet as close to the edge as I can. Closing my eyes, I lean forward until my forehead touches the glass, my warm breath hitting my lips as I breathe against the surface.
I want to see if I can scare myself. I want to see if this numbness across my mind is really as bad as it feels.
Slowly I open my eyes, my breath hitching in my throat as this incredible height registers, the cars and people below flitting about like ants. The slant of the building causing my stomach to twist, as my eyes trail the glass all the way down to the bottom. The vision of falling to my death manages to wake me up, the surge of adrenaline finally bringing the feeling back to my skin.
A resident feeling of hope sparks up inside me, and I take a deep breath as I distance myself from the window.
I may be broken. But that doesn't mean that I can't fix myself.
His deep voice startles me as he steps backwards towards the door, "I have a meeting." He motions to the rest of the apartment, "Make yourself comfortable."
I bow my head subtly, wincing slightly at the sting of pain in my neck. He seems to hesitate for a second, before turning around and leaving.
——————
Normally, I would be raving about how many shower settings he has, or how the floorboards underneath my feet are heated, or about how his walk-in-wardrobe is practically the size of my kitchen and living room.
But my mind is spinning as I walk through the silent, dark apartment. My hair now dry, it along with my skin, smelling like the expensive looking soaps I had found in the bathroom. Or rather, the shower room.
I exhale in exasperation as images of Mr Adams flash in front of my eyes. There was something... off about him, the way he ignored the reporters, the way he tried to keep his back to the cameras.
The lights are on around the city, flickering spots of illumination sitting in uniform on the buildings and skyscrapers. Light flutters of rain are continuing to fall, the storm from earlier leaving to terrorise another part of Korea.
I walk around the kitchen island, standing on my tip-toes to reach the cupboards in an attempt to find some medication, my endless thinking habit giving me the usual headache. Just as my hand skims over a packet of tablets, I jump at a sudden clatter on the floor, looking down to see that a small white remote has landed near my feet. As I absentmindedly pick it up, an idea starts to slowly form in my head.
What if I can talk to him, figure out what he wants me to do, figure out why he hasn't pressed charges. I take a glass and begin to fill it with water, the cogs turning in my head as I think this through.
What if this makes things worse?
As I take the pills, I decide to call Luise, knowing that her decision will sway me in the right direction. I walk over to my phone, jumping up in terror when the fridge speaks to me as I walk past it. Resisting the urge to kick it, I roll my eyes and move to dial her number, stopping in my tracks when I see that my phone is dead.
I quickly hobble over to one of the spare bedrooms where I left my bag, shaking my head in exasperation when I take a wrong turn and end up in the wardrobe room again. When I find the right room, I switch on the lights and dig through my bag, an unnecessary cheer leaving my lips as I pull out my phone charger.
Making my way back to the living room, I search the walls for the light switch, my eyebrows knitting together at the absence of one. Sighing, I use the dim lights coming from the city to help me find a power socket.
Now, I sit on the wooden floor, nursing my phone before it comes back to life, the wire running across my lap and disappearing under a small table up against the wall. I bite my lip in anticipation, bouts of worry coming and going like mini waves in my stomach.
When the bright screen turns on, I squint my eyes in the dark, my body going tense as I wait for it to finally boot up.
Bewilderment floods though me as I read my notifications, two texts from Luise immediately catching my attention.
Luise: You need to call him right now
Luise: Don't ask why, just do it
The texts from an hour ago leave me completely confused, slight fear bubbling up through me as I apprehend what to do.
Exhaling a shaky breath, I find the number he called me from, nearly four months ago. My finger hovers over it, anxiety twisting through my chest.
I press down on it, imagining the photo on my hospital ID that I saw earlier. I close my eyes and listen to the rings, trying so hard to reinstall the strong and confident personalty that I once had, the personality that made me, me.
Just as I'm about to give up, the rings are replaced with a monotone voice instead.
"Hello?"
My lips hang open, my hand clutches my leg, my entire body frozen.
The voice comes again, softer this time
"Doctor Alim?... Luna."
I'm suddenly stunned back to then, before this all happened, before I left. When she was still alive. I'm reminded of his unwillingness to cooperate, his foul and confused demeanour. The way he would always act, which made everything that much harder for her.
I feel as though my anger at him is justified, especially now. No one would ever know how miserable she was because of him. Maybe that's why when I finally answer, my words are fill of venom,
"How could you do this? Why did you go to the press? If you wanted to punish me you could've pressed charges months ago!"
I'm fuming so much that I don't notice the door to the apartment quietly open and shut.
"Do you think that I haven't thought about her everyday since? Do you think that I don't feel the guilt, that I don't feel the same pain you're feeling?" Tears of anger are streaming down my face, I wipe them away harshly before continuing, "I may deserve to go to prison, but I was a really good doctor, and I don't deserve to be humiliated like this!"
I hang up and throw my phone onto the ground, the anger dissipating into sorrow as I will myself to stop crying. No more tears Luna. Not today.
An odd sense of relief floods through me as I stand. Finally letting go of any inhibition, and saying everything I had wanted to say since this morning, has lifted some of the heaviness that was pressing down over my shoulders.
Clearing my throat, I turn to get water from the kitchen, forgetting about the talking fridge that scares me again, causing me to jump away, cursing in Korean. With my hand over my heart, I get my glass and begin to refill it.
But my blood pressure never gets to return to normal, as a bag is plopped onto the counter behind me, making me jump back in shock once again.
Jungwoo stands on the other side of the kitchen island, suppressing a smirk as he empties take-out food onto the counter. "Why are you here in the dark?"
I lean on the counter to try and level my breathing, my hand still clutching my sweatshirt. I answer him bluntly, a little anger from before still coursing through my veins, "I couldn't find the light switch."
He nonchalantly takes off his jacket before walking over to me, the sincere look in his eyes undoubtable, even in this darkness. He blinks slowly before speaking, hesitation written all over his face, "I'm sorry, that I reacted in the way that I did." He steps closer and lowers his head slightly to look down at me, "You didn't deserve that."
Pursing my lips, I look to his chest to avoid eye contact, afraid that I'll just break down again as a raw bout of relief, floods through me. "Maybe I did."
Sighing, he places one hand on either side of me, palms flat on the counter. "Aniya [no]."
I look up at him, his eyes gleaming, as they reflect the soft light coming from the city. He's close enough for me to feel his breath hitting the top of my head, his dark, wooden lavender smell, close enough to sedate me.
He slowly leans behind me, and I feel the heat blooming across my chest, just like before. My eyelashes flutter up at him, before hearing him pick something up behind me. I watch as he points the little white remote, that I dropped earlier, at the room behind him, the lights built into the ceiling finally illuminating everything.
I squint as I purse my lips, trying not to reciprocate the grin that's filling his face. Chuckling, and feeling a bit stupid, I let my head fall to his chest, feeling it move under my cheek as he starts laughing.
After a second he wraps his arms around me, encasing me in a tight, safe hold. I sniffle slightly before mumbling into his chest, "Mianhaeyo [I'm sorry]."
He shakes his head gently, "Gwenchana [it's okay]." When he whispers, his breath tickles the top of my head, "You don't have to say anything until you're ready."
I smile to myself as I hug him back, feeling, just a little bit, fixed.
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Are we happy that they're not fighting, cause I am :)
Also I want to say, this is NOT one of those situations where just because she has a man, everything will be better for her. I want Luna to fix this herself.
Anywho I hope you're all enjoying! Please do comment and vote as always.
xxx