Chapter Thirty-Four
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Michel stood by the side gate repeating good night and I should go for about twenty minutes, all the while holding Emma tightly in his arms and dropping kisses on her temples, eyes, and the corners of her lips. She didn’t want the night to end either, but she had a morning class she should at least be semi-awake for, and he no doubt had a mountain of reports to review, calls to make, and other princely duties to deal with before his lecture in the afternoon.
Fisting his shirt in her hands, she rose to her tiptoes and kissed him soundly on the lips. When he made a growly noise deep in his chest, she was tempted to keep going, but she needed to be strong for both of them. She disengaged her lips from his and pushed him away firmly by his shoulders.
“You need to go.” She was going for stern but sounded much too breathless.
“I know.” When Michel stood rooted to the spot, giving her a woebegone puppy-dog stare, she spun him around and pushed him out the side gate. “I’m leaving. I’m leaving.”
“Good.” She didn’t even try to sound like she meant it. “Shoo.”
Halfway across the front lawn, he looked over his shoulder and nearly stopped her heart with that crooked grin of his. It gave her a glimpse of the mischievous little boy he must’ve been and the fun-loving and joyful man he hid behind a wall of civility and decorum. With her, he dropped his protective armor and let her see him—all of him. Sudden tears blurred her vision.
Emma was grateful he came to her tonight. That they didn’t waste another minute being angry with each other. After their fight earlier, she couldn’t avoid facing her feelings any longer. She’d let it wash over her and infuse her soul. She loved him so much it hurt. It felt as though she would burst from the enormity of that love. But that was that.
She couldn’t change the fact that she fell in love with a man she could never have. Pain as sharp as nails scraped down her heart, drawing blood. No, Emma. You can do this. She would love him with all her heart for the remainder of the time they had together. That was all she could do.
But what would happen to him when he returned to Rouleme? Would there be someone else he could be himself with? She had made certain not to read any articles about his love life, but there were hardly any to avoid. If there had been anyone else in his life, he had been very discreet about it. A part of her—a small, jealous part—never wanted him to find what he had with her. But another part of her—the part that loved him more than anything—hoped that he would find someone to share himself with. For his sake.
She wanted to run after him and never let him leave. But she swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to wave at him, not quite managing to smile back. Before she could change her mind, she walked through the side gate and latched it closed behind her. With heavy steps, she let herself back in the house and headed for the kitchen. She should make herself some hot chocolate. She was too wired to sleep.
Emma turned on the soft under-cabinet lights and pattered over to the fridge. After grabbing a half-empty carton of milk, she closed the refrigerator door and screamed, long and loud. The milk carton went flying, and her hands grappled at her throat as though she was trying to rein back her bloodcurdling scream. Her unsuspecting dad shouted in alarm and plastered himself to the kitchen wall.
“Where did you come from?” she cried.
“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He peeled himself off the wall with a shaky chuckle. “But you scared the bejesus out of me, too.”
“I’m not the one who snuck up on you.” She went to retrieve the milk from the floor, which thankfully hadn’t exploded on impact. “What are you doing up anyway?”
Wait. Oh, shit. Michel and she… They did… things… Just on the other side of the kitchen wall. Shit, shit, shit.
“I got up to use the restroom and remembered that there was leftover bean sprouts and spinach…”
“Say no more.” Emma smiled with relief and affection. “I’ll fry the eggs. You get the veggies and gochujang.”
Impromptu midnight bibimbap was the best midnight snack and comfort food. And she had worked up quite an appetite… She flushed and cut her thoughts short. She could not think about what she and Michel did against the wall— outside— with her dad standing in the same room with her.
Carefully smoothing out her expression, she focused on making the perfect sunny-side-up eggs with crisp golden edges. She turned the stove off a few seconds early to let them sit in the pan while she took out a giant mixing bowl and dumped the cold rice left over from dinner into the bowl. Knowing the drill, her dad dumped all the banchan from the fridge over the rice. She eyeballed the chili paste needed and scraped it off her spoon with her finger and drizzled a generous amount of toasted sesame seed oil into the bowl.
“Will you do the honors?” she asked her dad once she added the eggs on top of the concoction.
“It would be my pleasure.” Her dad swallowed audibly and mixed everything together with his spoon until the nutty, spicy smell of bibimbap permeated the air.
They placed the mixing bowl on the floor and sat cross-legged on opposite sides with their spoons poised over it.
“Ladies first,” her dad said graciously.
“Ha!” She snorted. “You raised this Korean kid right, Appa. Elders first.”
“That’s my girl.” With a proud smile, he scooped up a towering spoonful and maneuvered the whole thing into his mouth until he had chipmunk cheeks.
She followed his lead and stuffed her face with a fist-size mound. That was the only way to eat this kind of everything-but-the-kitchen-sink bibimbap. The sticky short-grain rice was red and shiny with gochujang and sesame oil, and the seasoned bean sprouts and spinach were salty and crunchy with just enough moisture to prevent the bibimbap from being too dry. Even though her stomach felt stretched to the max, she couldn’t stop eating. When her dad offered her the last bite at the bottom of the mixing bowl, she took it.
“I’m just going to lie down here and go to sleep,” she slurred, patting her full, happy tummy.
Her dad stood with the empty bowl and spoons and washed them at the sink, humming tunelessly. She didn’t even have the energy to object to him doing the dishes. She had to remember that he wanted to take care of her, too. It was okay to let him sometimes.
“I was going to wait till tomorrow to tell you,” her dad began.
“Tell me what?” She leaned her head against the cupboard, the ups and downs of the long day catching up with her. Her words echoed back to her. Compatibility isn’t going to bridge the ocean. The dormant ache in her chest resurfaced.
“You remember Mr. Goo?”
“Of course I remember him.” He was an old friend of her dad’s who owned several successful Korean restaurants. “He asks me to come work at one of his restaurants every time he sees me.”
“I told him a million times that you prefer teaching, but the man is stubborn.” Her dad shook his head. “Anyway, he mentioned a commercial kitchen space he came across in Culver City.”
Emma scrambled to her feet. “What commercial kitchen space?”
“Now, don’t get too excited.” He wiped his hands on a towel, watching her with a fond smile as she screeched and jumped up and down. “But he said that it might be coming up for lease. At a reasonable rate.”
“How?” she gasped.
“Well, he had an opportunity to purchase it with a mind to start a banchan delivery service, but I mentioned you and…” Her dad shrugged like he didn’t just hand her the whole world on a platter. “Mr. Goo said you could come take a look anytime.”
“Tomorrow.” She glanced at the clock. It was past one. “I mean today. But I can wait till the sun is up.”
“I’m sure Mr. Goo would appreciate that.” He smiled at her like she was so adorable he could barely stand it.
She smiled back at him, studying his beloved face. With a jolt of fear and sadness, she realized her dad was getting old. The laugh lines around his eyes and mouth had branched out and deepened, and his hair seemed grayer than she remembered. She walked up to him and wrapped him in a tight hug. Her dad chuckled and returned her hug, swaying back and forth as though soothing a baby. She would always be his little girl.
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, too, baby girl,” he said, squeezing her tight one last time before releasing her. “You have a big day tomorrow. You should go to bed… Come to think of it, what were you doing up so late?”
“Time for bed. Big day tomorrow.” She hurried out of the kitchen, hoping he’d think she didn’t hear his question. “Good night, Appa.”
Emma clipped her hair away from her neck and took a quick shower. Smothering a yawn, she pulled on a fresh pair of panties and trudged over to her bed. But as soon as she lay down, she burst into giddy laughter. She turned her head to smother her laugh in her pillow, squealing while she was at it. Semi-public sex. Check. And that had never even been on her list of things to do.
She wondered if this was a first for Michel as well. She had a feeling it was, considering how buttoned-up and proper he tended to be. Double check. But seeing him lose control like that was… so hot. She flopped onto her back and threw the covers off her suddenly heated body. God, she wanted him again. And she missed him even though she’d been with him an hour ago.
Not allowing herself to overthink things, she grabbed her cell phone from her nightstand.
Emma:
I miss you.
Before she could wonder if he was asleep, three little dots started tripping across the screen.
Michel:
I miss you, too.
Her eyes stung, and she could taste salt at the back of her throat, but she stubbornly put a smile on her face and into her words.
Emma:
Guess what? I have exciting news!
Michel:
What is it?
Emma:
I might be able to open up my culinary school sooner than I thought!
This time, the ellipses rolled and rolled for quite a while, making her smile slip.
Michel:
What wonderful news!
That was it? She worried her bottom lip, disappointed by his generic response. She thought he’d be more excited for her. And why did it take him so long to type that out? He must’ve written and erased his words multiple times to end up with that…
Michel:
How did that come about?
Her stomach dropped. Was he… Did he… No, it couldn’t be. It was probably nothing.
Emma:
My dad’s friend is a restaurateur and somehow came to own a commercial kitchen space and he might be willing to lease it to me for a reasonable price. I don’t know the details but I’m going to go check out the place tomorrow. I mean today but later when the sun is up.
Michel:
Her heart pounded as she frowned at the message. Michel wasn’t much of an emoji person. Was he… Did he change his mind about their relationship? Did he hope for something more permanent than the two months he’d proposed? But he never hinted that he wanted something more with her… She scrunched her eyes shut and shook her head as though she could stop her thoughts from running away from her.
Michel:
Let me know how it goes. I hope it is to your liking.
Her shoulders sagged, and she huffed a little scornful laugh at herself. He would’ve told her if he wanted something more out of their relationship. See how silly being in love makes you? Besides, she didn’t want anything more than what they had now. No matter how much it hurt, she had to be realistic. More wasn’t possible.
Emma:
Okay.
Emma:
Good night.
Michel:
Good night.
He was probably just tired. She yawned. So was she. He would probably be more excited for her when she had more to share tomorrow. Whatever the case, Emma needed this. Now more than ever. Focusing on opening up her culinary school might be the only thing that could save her from falling apart after Michel returned to Rouleme. She hoped the kitchen would be perfect for her vision so she could pour what was left of her soul into it when she lost him.