“Sometimes, I struggle to like you; you know that.” Greta comes up behind me, and as furious as I am and caught up in my rage, her words hurt me, and tears fill my eyes instantly. She’s never one to mean it when she says things like this, but my lip trembles, and I bite it to stop it from showing. My feeble idiot feelings when it comes to my only real friend in this place.
“I don’t care. I never asked you to like me.” Greta has this magic ability to make me an emotional and vulnerable mess with the click of her fingers. I spit it out like a child sulking and keep my head turned away, so she doesn’t see how easily she brings this on nowadays.
“Whoever taught you that it was okay to be this way was wrong. Whoever told you that you weren’t allowed to make mistakes, or cry, because your hurt, or sad, or angry, or scared, or know you messed up…. they did wrong.”
“Don’t okay. I don’t
“Woah…. I expected a sad story, but that….. it’s a saga.” Greta eyes me over her cup of warm cocoa, illuminated by the dawn glow as we sit by the windows on the second floor. I don’t know why I held off being honest with her about everything before now, as not once through my storytelling did I feel like she was judging me. She was quiet, attentive, and offered hugs and tissues as needed. I know she wouldn’t use who I am for personal gain, and it somehow feels like a huge weight has been lifted just by her knowing who I am.We have an unadulterated view of the tiny village and streets from up here and the vast chaotic ocean as it tosses to and fro. Its immense power and size remind me how insignificant and vulnerable humans are yet can also instill a sense of peace inside me. Like the night of the accident, it’s misty in the distance of the dull morning light, and you can’t see the landscape, or the mountai
“And yet you don’t think they are capable of tampering with a car to off you? Do you think they’ll let you reappear now? If you show up in a swarm of ‘here I am,’ what realistically will they do? That thought scares me. They offed you for threatening his position. What will they do for creating a mass scandal and implicating more of them and damaging the entire company?”“Arrgghhhhh.” I let out a strangled noise of despair and throw my blankets off. Exhaling heavily, getting up to pace around while stretching out my arms, and crick my neck from side to side to work out the knots. Frustrated, weighted with pressure, and so tired I can’t think straight.This is my family, husband, and entire existence, even though what she’s saying makes perfect sense… It’s crazy and sounds like a movie plot. I just can’t.“Let’s just say that IF, and it’s a big IF…..Jyeon did w
Knowing how many wealthy families have politicians, officers, and such in their back pockets, it’s not all that hard to believe she might be onto something. Corruption, greed, and destructive power struggles. It's what’s gone on around me my whole life. Being sized up, treated like prime livestock with every daughter and son in our entire city. Young heirs were willing to seduce Jyeon or me to get in on the golden egg that OLO was. Our money, our status. Many have killed for less in our culture’s history. We’ve never been people.“Please tell me your parents died of a real accident and not brake failure,” Greta adds in afterthought, and I turn to her with a sad frown at the mention of them, knowing why her brain has gone there. I exhale with the weight of all of this.“It was a genuine accident. A tragic pile-up when a truck Jack knifed on a snowy night. My parents and many others lost their lives on that highway. My father-in-
TWO YEARS LATER“Good morning, Anna.” The bright, cheery voice of Barbara, the mail woman as she passes me in the street, brightens my morning. “Morning.” I’m practically skipping today. Wearing a new cornflour blue summer dress on the hottest day of the season so far and in a blindingly happy mood. Nothing could dampen my spirits today since I woke up from a scarce night of no nightmares and felt incredibly refreshed for once. It’s funny how that alone can change my entire day. The village is bustling, bright, and early, with most fishing crews already coming in to offload, and the har
“Beautiful as always. You’re such a ray of sunshine in this place. I wish that one would learn she has a figure she could show off. Might have nabbed a husband by now if she wore a dress once in a while.” She throws her daughter the side-eye and gets an eyeroll in response. The usual bickering between them because she feels like her twenty-five-year-old should be settled down already.“Hey… if I wanted a man, there’s a few who are interested. I’m following Greta’s example and focusing on making myself happy and dressing how I want.”“While sweating in jeans in summer.” I point out and duck as she throws a scrunched-up paper bag at me. “Says the woman who evades Tom Fletcher at all costs while he&rsquo
“It’s so busy I think I might pass out. We just got a table of six guys up to the second floor for dinner, and we’re running out of side dishes.” Greta comes sweeping into the kitchen where I’m heating chicken wings in a flash fry for an order and leans over me to stick a paper tab on the order line over my head. The new group seems to have enormous appetites and is going for a four-course in one sitting.“All six want the scallop starter…” that’s easy for me to handle alone.” she is red-faced and sweaty and makes to start pulling out the necessary ingredients to get on it. Even with both of us cooking and serving, we still struggle to keep waiting time down. We should start thinking of a kitchen part-timer if this summer keeps progressing like this.“I don’t think we can take many more people in if this keeps up. How many boats have docked today?” I’m feeling the pressure after boats
“Sohla?” A breathy, almost non-existent question, aimed right at my face, and my world comes crashing down around my ears. As though my brain stammers, and I flinch at the shock of hearing it after so long.My head snap reaction brings my eyes to a set of wide-open, startled, and familiar dark browns, locked on me as though he’s unable to blink. Set in a face that still haunts my dreams most nights, for a million different reasons. I don’t know which one of us is in the worst state of disbelief because it feels pretty close to both. My body turns to liquid at being three inches away from the man I never wanted to see again, and my hands start to tremble, swallowing hard as my insides crumble.“It’s…… it’s really you?... Sohla….” He’s breathy, obviously in a state of shock, and staring at me like he can’t process it at all. Still kneeling here in the middle of my crowded restaurant, and yet
“Unfucking believable. Of all the places for him to show up….. this is insane. Do you think he bought it? That you’re my sister? When you left, he was weird, but he didn’t ask anything else. I managed to usher him to his seat, but he was zoned out the entire time.” Greta is pacing back and forth in the kitchen, like an erratic wound up chicken in a coop while I’m trying to cook the dishes in our order queue and not have an almighty mental breakdown. Tasks keep me sane, focusing on doing something, and yet not. Trying to keep my hands busy and not freak out the way Greta is. I go over and over it in my head and keep shaking myself mentally. After all this time, I honestly cannot believe this isn’t a dream that he’s here. In our village, in the Tarry Shack.“I don’t know; I honestly do not know.” I think I’m in shock and knowing he’s up there, right now, has me shaking all over and my pulse at