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Jae Young
I observe the white walls and a yellowed sofa bed beneath the window, its curtains a matching pale shade. In the center of the room, to the left of the headboard, several small monitors emit a steady beep. My body lies motionless on the bed, a transparent mask covering my mouth and nose, with bandages and electrodes attached to my forehead and scalp. An unlit television hangs on the opposite wall.
To the right of the headboard, Elleanor is uncomfortably perched on a metal chair. Her hips are on the seat, her feet crossed with only the tips touching the floor. Her arms, crossed over the bed, serve as a pillow for her head. She is still in her pajamas and sneakers, her hair disheveled and tousled.
I gently slide my hand to fix her hair. She stirs and slowly awakens. The green in her eyes is nearly gone, replaced by a redness that has overtaken her entire face. She takes a deep breath and passes the back of her hand over her lips, straightening her posture.
“Lia, it's time to go home. Your body needs rest. The doctors are doing what they can.”
She stretches, then looks at me, furrowing her brow.
“I said I would stay by your side. I don't usually break my word like some people,” she says. I chuckle, turning my face away. She hasn't forgotten the issue even in this situation.
“You're different from me, I know. But to keep your promise, you can't afford to get sick,” I reply, rubbing her head.
“I don't get sick easily,” she says, holding my hands and moving her thumbs over my knuckles. Her touch is so warm and comforting it reminds me of the sensation of blood flowing through my veins, quickening my heartbeat.
I lower myself until our faces are level. I rest my forehead against hers.
"Elleanor, I need your help with something."
She shakes her head.
“I don't know how much time I have left. Gael told me I need to settle unresolved matters and find out what really happened at the camp. Could you...”
“Before dwelling on your faults, you should fight to stay alive, then you can address your mistakes,” she interrupts. A tear escapes the corner of her right eye, dropping onto her thigh.
My heart feels heavy, but I can't depart this way. I must prepare her for our goodbye.
“I want to live, Elleanor, more than ever. I have a compelling reason to stay in this world. However, maybe fate disagrees,” I say, swallowing hard.
“If that's the case, you'll be left with an eternal debt, a promise unfulfilled,” she replies, letting go of my hands and lowering her head.
“I'm sorry, Lia. It pains me, even without a physical body. But I need to face reality.” Elleanor covers my mouth with her hand.
“Start by forgiving Uncle Jung. He always loved you, believe me. I was also hurt by him when he put you on that plane to Korea.”
The wound I thought was partially healed reopens, leaving a vast void in my heart.
“I don't know how.”
“Consider it from a different perspective, not just your own. Our parents are flawed, just like you and me. We often view them as superheroes, and realizing their imperfections can be hard.”
“I guess that's not entirely it. He chose to send me away to the woman he had distanced himself from because of her character, yet he stayed with the other son and the other woman.”
“He made a mistake. And he knew it. Uncle Jung blamed himself every day, condemning himself to a life devoid of smiles or any form of relief. He hurt himself too... We all inflict pain on ourselves, Jae Young, even when we don't mean to.”
Something inside me transforms, like a caterpillar becoming a butterfly. Yet, I can't immediately pinpoint what changed, I only notice the agitation in my chest has subsided.
“I’ll reflect on what you’ve said.”
“Use this time to think about Ana, your grandmother, and me...” Elleanor exhales and wipes her face.
Hearing her include herself, an unexpected surge of emotion propels me toward her. I embrace her, her head resting on my shoulder while I stroke her hair.
I realize Lia is right; I need to find a way to view the entire past from different perspectives.
––––––––
It took Mariana and Marcus coming to the hospital to convince Elleanor to go home and rest. Mariana stayed in the room with my body and my brother.
Lia is reluctant to leave him alone with me; she's wary of Jae Wook. And, somehow, his presence also makes me uneasy.
He told Elleanor that we had argued... What about?
Wook can be selfish, spoiled, and irresponsible, but harming someone, especially me, seems out of character. No, it must be a misunderstanding...
Once Marcus takes Elleanor home, the room feels eerily silent and empty. Watching the two of them leave, with only the nurses bustling in and out, administering medications and monitoring the equipment that keeps my body alive, becomes unbearably monotonous and draining.
My mind is consumed with thoughts of Lia. I'm uncertain how much time I have left, but I'd prefer to spend it with her, attempting to fulfill at least a part of what I promised.
I close my eyes, picturing her face. When I open them again, I find myself in the living room of the apartment. Elleanor lies on the couch, her hair wrapped in a towel, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts. She's on a call with Madalena, recounting recent events on speakerphone.
Her eyes are shadowed and hollow, her eyelids swollen to the extent she could be mistaken for Korean woman. Tears still streak from her eyes. My heart fragments further at the sight.
It's odd to be swayed by emotions that typically stem from chemical reactions—a function of the body I shouldn't possess in my current state.
My heart races, my chest mimics breathing, a phantom sensation of air fills my lungs, and I feel as though blood still courses through my veins.
"Have you told your parents yet?"
"No. I'd like to wait a bit longer, Madá, could you please...?"
"Of course, dear. Keep me posted and take as much time as you need."
"Thank you, I'll make it up later."
"Elle, remember to eat and rest. You need to be well to help someone else."
"I'll do my best."
After ending the call, I move closer. Elleanor turns to the side and sets her phone down. She closes her eyes, exhaling deeply. I pause, crouching in front of her. Her features, unchanged from the little girl I once knew, captivate and soothe me. I merely watch her, resisting the urge to touch, despite desperately wanting to. She needs her rest.
"What are you doing here?" she murmurs, not moving. Is she dreaming? "Instead of finding a way to go back?" She opens her eyes and looks into mine intensely. Though she says nothing, I see anguish and pain in her eyes.
"You left me with those two annoying people. Can you believe they don't even talk to me?" I say with a smile, placing my hand on hers. Lia tries to return the gesture.
"I've missed seeing that small, shy smile of yours."
"I took too long, Lia... If it's any consolation, know that I regret it every time I see you, or whenever I think of you." Her fingertips slide across the back of my hand. I can hear the beat of my heart so loudly, it echoes.
"Why not correct that instead of living with regret?"
I laugh, pondering how to rectify this flawed situation. I sit beside her on the couch, caressing her face. Memories from our past resurface, bringing a wave of nostalgia.
"Do you know which of our moments I recall most often?"
She shifts, leaning back against the arm of the sofa, knees bent, head resting on them, giving me her full attention.
"No," Elleanor replies, her smile weak but better than tears.
"When I found you in that abandoned house. Your eyes have always been the most beautiful I've ever seen." Her cheeks blush as her lips pout, trying to suppress her smile. Despite the redness, her eyes—a deep green—sparkle subtly. "And every time you surprised me by standing on tiptoes to kiss my face."
She laughs genuinely, and I join in, feeling warmth spread across my face; if I still had a body, it would surely be blushing..
“I think we have some favorite moments, viewed from different perspectives, because when we first met, your smiling eyes completely captivated me. They were so unique.”
What does she mean by smiling eyes? Instinctively, I touch the corners of my own eyes. She gazes intently at me and reaches up to touch my face.
“Every time you smile, the corners of your eyes crinkle just like your lips.” I lower my head slightly. “Just like that!”
“Does that mean you think my eyes are beautiful?” I ask, scratching my head and tilting it to one side.
“Of course. And...” I pause, looking her directly in the eyes. “The way you blush when I mention it!” She plants a quick kiss on my face, catching me off guard. She tilts her head, biting her lower lip. I gently pinch her cheek between my fingers.
“It wasn’t just me who had moments of shyness. You lost your composure whenever I touched your hand. Although...”
“What?” She straightens up, her eyes widening.
“Balance was never your strong suit!” She covers her face with her hands in embarrassment.
“Jae!”
“It’s true. Remember how you’d fall off the stationary swing?” She shakes her head in denial. “Or how you’d trip over corners and furniture? That happened at least twice a day. And during hopscotch at school, you couldn’t make it past the third square.” I chuckle, and she peeks at me through her fingers, her face still hidden. “And when we played hide and seek at home, you’d trip over your own feet. Luckily, I was always there to catch you by the arm. Not to mention all the times you sprained your ankle.”
“All of those incidents involved you!” She points at me. “And in every one, you ended up carrying me on your back... That was the best year of my childhood. Unfortunately, the following one was one of the worst.”
“For me too, Lia.”
“After you left, no one was there to catch me. I lost count of how many times I fell. I tripped three times as much... and when I got hurt, there was no one to carry me.” She glances down at her hands, absentmindedly cracking her knuckles.
“Every day, I worried about you getting hurt. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.” I take her hand, weaving our fingers together. “It wasn’t easy for me either, believe me. My grandmother restricted me to my room except for school. I didn’t make any friends. My schedule was like an adult’s. School full-time, private lessons in English, Chinese, French, and German. Taekwondo, swimming, art, and piano. I went to bed exhausted every night. On the nights I managed to stay up a bit longer, I wrote to you. I know not all those letters reached you; my grandmother wouldn’t allow it.”
Elleanor tightens her grip on my hand and gently strokes my head with her other hand.
“Your father tried to comfort me a few times by explaining how strict your grandmother was, but I didn’t believe it. I thought he was making excuses, and that you were out having fun with other friends.” I chuckle, raising an eyebrow. “Why did you stop writing?”
“When I hit my teens, Mrs. Lee Hye Ji decided it was too risky to keep in touch with Brazil. I was forbidden from sending letters or receiving calls. My responsibilities only grew, and I was set up on numerous blind dates, leading to three broken engagements.”
“You had multiple fiancées? More than one?”
“Yes. That situation earned me a reputation as a womanizer. I never actually dated those women. Everything was arranged by our families, with a few supervised meetings to get to know each other. Among the more traditional wealthy families, arranged marriages are still a thing.”
“I always thought that was just something from TV dramas.”
“It's real. To escape those engagements, I behaved badly, and if that didn’t work, I paid girls to pretend to be my girlfriend. Eventually, no prestigious family wanted me.”
“So you never...”
“Not in the way you might think.”
“Hmm...” Elleanor looks away, seemingly a bit disappointed.
“And you?”
“Me? I just focused on my studies and work.” Images of her with Wook flash in my mind: them hugging, but also her pushing him away, questioning his motives. It makes me dizzy! I sense there's something in this story I need to uncover. Should I ask? No... She’s feeling somewhat better now. If I bring it up, it might upset her. “And I followed your career.”
“Mwo? Why?”
“It was the only way to stay connected to you since we lost touch, and Wook hardly told me anything useful—just tidbits about the parties you attended and your girlfriends. So, whenever possible, I researched you, watched clips of your runway shows. I even watched some of the dramas you starred in.”
I’m speechless, my jaw drops. I had no idea. Words fail me, and I can only stare at her in astonishment.
As we sit there, holding hands and exchanging stories, I'm overwhelmed by a complex mix of emotions. There’s a deep bond between us, yet also an unspoken tension, a reluctance to fully open up. We’ve both endured so much, and I sense there have been some misunderstandings that caused us to drift apart. Nevertheless, there’s still a spark, a faint glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, we can find our way back to each other.
“Please don’t give up? Live! Stay healthy,” she says, cupping my face in her hands. “I still haven’t forgiven you for misjudging me. Recover, and then convince me why you chose to believe only Wook’s side of the story.”
What is she referring to?
She shakes her head slowly, biting her lip. I kiss her forehead and pull her close, holding her tightly, simply savoring the warmth of her skin and all the emotions she stirs in me.
Just one more chance... Just one more, God! Help me remember!