Page 43 of When Worlds Collide
My mum rolled her eyes with barely-contained theatrics. “Do I at least get to know his name?”
“Jihoon.” I omitted his surname in case my mum got it into her head to ‘ask Google’ about him.
She sniffed. “Hmm. And you’re living with him?”
“Yes.”
“So, it’s serious then?” Dad asked, leaning forward.
I flicked my eyes up to where I could see Jihoon, who’d walked into the living area, leaning down to get a bottle of water out of the mini fridge. As if he felt my eyes on him, he looked up at me as he straightened.
“Yes,” I said with more certainty about this than I had about anything else. He smiled at me in a way that never failed to simultaneously stop, and then start my heart.
“When do we get to meet him, then?”
That got my attention, and I refocused on the screen. “Sorry, what?”
“When do we meet your young man?” Dad repeated, a glint of mischief in his warm, grey eyes, as if he knew he was winding me up.
“Um…”
“I agree with your dad,” Mum piped up. “If you’re living with this boy, I want to meet him.
“Okay, fine, fine,” I agreed, “but not right now, I don’t wanna spring you two on him.”
“‘Spring?'” My mum held a hand to her chest, while my dad laughed.
“Alright, poppet, you prepare him for your old parents and let us know when we can all get on a call together-”
“Or you could bring him home for Christmas?” my mum piped up, hopefully, and much as I hated to disappoint her, I was nipping that in the bud.
“Absolutely not,” I laughed.
“Your dad will behave himself,” Mum patted my dad gamely on the shoulder, earning her an outraged look from him.
“It’s not Dad I’m worried about,” I assured her.
“Wouldn’t want to scare him off, eh, love?” He winked at me.
“He might as well know sooner or later what he’s marrying into,” Mum grumbled.
“Whoa, whoa,” I held up a hand and cut them both off. “No one said anything about marriage.”
“Well, you’re living with him.” My dad shrugged.
“And you moved to Korea to be with him,” my mum pointed out. She was very stuck on that point, I noticed weakly.
“I’m not having this conversation,” I said faintly, holding a hand up to my forehead. I could practically feel the silence from across the room.
“Alright, alright, calm down.” My mum was trying – and failing to keep a grin at bay. She’d won, and she knew it.
“Are you happy though, love?” The pivot from joking around to serious caught me off balance, and for a moment I felt overwhelmed, barraged with emotions.
“I think I’m getting there, Mum.”
“You know that me and your dad,” she paused. “We’re proud of you, love. We always have been, and we always will be. You know that.”
I blinked furiously. “I know.” And I had known that, but I think, after everything, I think I’d needed to hear it.
