Page 128 of When Worlds Collide
He looked as shocked as I felt. He looked down at his hand, and I swore I felt the sting in my own palm. I took a step back, and his eyes immediately flew to mine.
“Jagiya-”
I held my hand up, silencing him. I spoke in a tone so measured it surprised me.
“I don’t know what your deal is with that man, but this was not okay.”
Jihoon nodded, his gaze falling to the floor.
“I’m sorry, baby.”
And I knew he was, but I didn’t feel ready to forgive him just yet. I wasn’t sure what I felt in that moment. Confused, hurt, and a plethora of other things I didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to process right then.
“I just want to forget about it, okay?” I said finally.
He nodded. “Okay.”
But it wasn’t.
We ate dinner together, sat in front of the TV like we were any other, normal couple. Like any other normal couple that were currently not talking to each other, that is.
I opened my mouth, to say what, I’d never know as that’s when my laptop rang with an incoming Skype call.
I exchanged a confused look with Jihoon, before looking down at my watch. It was just after 9:00 pm, and the only people to ever call me on Skype were my folks.
I got to my feet and padded towards the kitchen, where my laptop sat open on the island.
Sure enough, an icon of my parents was in the middle of the Skype window, the obnoxious ringing noise so at odds with the peaceful image of them enjoying margaritas in the sun – a picture from the holiday they took last year to Majorca.
I pressed the green button, and a moment later, my screen filled with my parents, sat at their kitchen table.
“Hey, mum,” I said, “everything okay? It’s the middle of the day.”
When she didn’t immediately wave my question away, I felt the smile bleed off my face.
“Hello, love,” she responded.
“What’s up?” I asked, eyeing my dad in the background as he walked into frame. He leaned over my mum, placing a mug infront of her before coming to sit down next to her. He reached for her hand.
“Mum, Dad, what is it?” I only needed to look at my dad’s face to know something was terribly wrong. The look of devastation, of absolute, utter fucking grief.
I felt sick.
“Love…” my mum sighed. “Look, I don’t want you to worry-”
As if those words could do anything, except scare me shitless.
“I-we, didn’t want to tell you like this, but you’re not coming home, and… I-we, there isn’t a better way to tell you.” Her voice hitched, and if I hadn’t been scared before, I was now.
My dad was the crier. He sobbed at the drop of a hat. He wasn’t allowed to watch soppy movies on his own anymore because he turned into a blubbery mess. My mum…
“Baby, I need to have an operation.” She met my eyes, and I could see from the way her chin lifted that she was trying to be stoic.
My breaths began to come faster. “Why?”
“I don’t want you to worry; you know what the hospitals are like round here, they’re great. And we’ve got your dad’s health insurance from the bank, so it’s all going to be quick.”
“Mum, what is?” Breathe, just breathe.
