Page 13 of Doubts of the Egoist
Yugo’s astonished expression made Kuon feel self-conscious again. He twirled on his heel and stormed out of the building, fearing the slipping merriment would get out of control, or that he’d say something even more embarrassing. His partially restored vision injected new hope, energy, and confidence into his veins—a confidence he hadn’t felt in months.
Filling his chest with the freshness of the summer morning, he hooded his eyes and offered his face to the gentle sunlight. The boundless blue, more saturated and deeper than he remembered, filtered through his sunglasses and short lashes. Maybe it was because of his glasses, but that hardly mattered right now. As he breathed in this immense freedom, he realized how empty and dull his life had been without this color.
In his impenetrable darkness, he’d dreamed of seeing that pristine sky at least once more. For a second, he thought he was absorbing that celestial expanse, consuming it, filling his empty shell with that blue, infinite calmness, when a throaty, soft voice called out to him, shattering the illusion of seclusion, “Kuon?”
He turned around.
Kristina was smaller than he’d imagined. Her build and complexion resembled those of an adolescent rather than an adult. She looked no older than seventeen. Her bright blue eyes, the same color as the sky above, watched him curiously. Long platinum hair cascaded over her slender shoulders. Kuon blinked and turned his attention to the child holding her hand. A six-year-old girl gazed up at him with large blue eyes, grinning wildly. With her light hair and pale skin, she was a smaller version of her mother. Nelly squeezed the hem of her summer dress in her fist as she rocked from heel to toe.
“Hi, Kuon!”
“So, this is what you look like.” He crouched down in front of the girl. “Hi, Nelly. It’s nice to finally see you.” He patted her head before getting up and looking at Kristina. “Both of you.”
Kuon tilted hishead, observing the pair with a tender expression, a wandering smile playing on his chapped lips. He liked what he saw, that was clear as day. Razor-sharp jealousy slashed through Yugo’s self-control, and he didn’t even bother to hide the lethality in the glare he directed at the woman and her child. Kuon had spent less than a minute with them and had already paid more attention to them than he had to Yugo during their long walk out of the hospital.
Oblivious to him and his foul mood, the woman stood onher toes and reached for Kuon’s sunglasses with her fingertips. “Let me see.”
When Kuon didn’t back away, Yugo saw red. The woman dared to touch what belonged to him, and Kuon didn’t try to stop her. Wanting to break this idyll, he squared his shoulders and took a few steps to stand behind Kuon.
The little girl was the first to notice him. She pressed her lips together and wrinkled her nose, small furrowsstreaking her round chin. The woman scowled, dropped her hands, and straightened up. Her eyes lost their sparkle as she studied Yugo with a long, cold stare. She crossed one arm over her chest and pushed the girl behind her with the other.
Kuon turned around and gave Yugo a puzzled look, radiating confusion. “Do you know each other?”
Kristina’s “Yes” contradicted Yugo’s “No.”
“We’ve met, but we don’t know each other,” Yugo clarified, staring at the woman.
“What’s going on?” Kuon frowned.
Giving Yugo the evil eye, the girl pouted and ratted him out, “He bullied Mommy!”
“Shut up, Pipsqueak. I didn’t,” Yugo growled. He grabbed Kuon’s elbow and shoved him toward the parking lot. “We’re leaving.”
“What are you doing?” Kuon followed him for two steps, trying to wrench his arm out of the grip. Ignoring the resistance, Yugo hauled him to the black SUV with tinted windows and opened the front passenger door for him.
“Get in. I don’t have all day.”
Kuon lowered his chin defiantly. His eyes couldn’t be seen behind the dark glasses, but his wide posture suggested Yugo’s anger had already spread to him. “What’s gotten into you? That was unnecessarily rude.”
“I said, get in.”
Fists clenched, Kuon glanced over his shoulder, and Yugo automatically traced the direction of his gaze. Wringing her fingers, Kristina watched them with alert eyes. The little girl sobbed by her side, smearing tears with her tiny fists.
Sensing Kuon’s hesitation, he said, “You’re coming with me one way or another, so don’t make a scene; that will only scare them. Now, be good, smile, wave, and get in.”
“God, I hate you right now,” Kuon growled and sighed. “I’m okay. I’ll call you later” he said to Kristina, and got into the car.
The buildings ofvarious heights, ages, and cultural significance blurred outside the window. They once would have distracted Kuon, but now the former detective barely noticed them. Kristina’s reaction, her body language, screamed intense anxiety and made him wonder what Yugo had done to instill such palpable fear.
Not trusting the Black Duke to give an honest answer, he plucked his cell phone out and started texting Kristina. The letters blurred, leaving him hoping that his message was legible enough. Engrossed in the process, he didn’t instantly realize that a hand had entered his field of vision and snatched the device out of his grasp. He blinked as the window on Yugo’s side lowered, and his phone somersaulted into the air.
Jaw dropped, he turned around to watch the black asphalt road stretch behind the car. He heard the clatter of his phone falling apart but couldn’t see any parts flying. “That’s enough. Stop the car. Right now!”
Instead of an apology, Yugo deadpanned, “I’m just following the doctor’s orders. No phones, TV, or computers until your eyes are healed enough.”
“Seriously, what’s going on?” Kuon snapped. “First, you interrupt my conversation, and now this? Who do you think you are?”
“Your lover. Anyway, why does it bother you? You won’t see them again, so there’s no reason to keep in touch.”
