Chapter Forty-Two
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Emma parked her car in the driveway, unable to recall how she’d gotten home. Her head was filled with screams, and she couldn’t form a coherent thought. It probably hadn’t been a good idea for her to drive in the first place.
With her forehead pressed against the steering wheel, she forced herself to do some breathing exercises. In through the nose and out through the mouth. She couldn’t fathom counting, so she just breathed slowly and methodically.
She didn’t know how long she sat in her car like that, but the pressure in her ears began to fade, and she could hear herself think past the devastation sweeping through her. Michel is engaged to another woman.
“What the literal fuck?” She pounded her palm against the steering wheel in time with her rant. It made her feel marginally better, so she did it again. “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuck.”
Emma decided to take advantage of her anger to get herself inside the house before she turned into a zombie again. But her hands were shaking so wildly that she couldn’t fit her key into the lock. She kicked the door and started stabbing it with her key instead… because that was a perfectly logical way to get the door to open. She dropped her hand to her side and stared at her toes in shame. As she contemplated apologizing to the door, it opened wide to reveal her dad on the other side.
“What was that? I heard all these noises…” His confused frown morphed into alarm when he caught her expression. “Emma, what’s wrong?”
He tugged her inside by her hand and led her to the living room. With gentle pressure on her shoulders, he convinced her to sit, then settled down beside her on the sofa. There wasn’t much else to do except to throw her arms around his neck and redefine ugly crying. His arms came around her, one hand cradling her head and the other patting her back.
Her dad held her tight as though he wanted to hold her together and keep her safe—as though he wanted to absorb her pain so he could hurt for her instead. Ever loving and ever patient, he said nothing until her sobs became quiet hiccups—but only until then.
“Whose ass am I whooping?” he gritted through his teeth.
She laughed into his shoulder even though she knew he was dead serious. “No ass whooping, Appa. I don’t want you to go to jail.”
Besides, Sophie was duty bound to protect Michel, and her dad wouldn’t stand a chance against that badass. Her laugh turned a little hysterical, so she pressed her lips shut.
“You’re right. That won’t do.” Her dad smoothed his hand down the back of her head. “Who’s going to take care of you if I’m behind bars?”
“Right?” She sat up and looked at him, her eyes blurry with unshed tears. “You’re much too important for me to risk like that.”
And she didn’t really want to see Michel get hurt, because it would hurt her just as much. But thinking about him almost sucked her back into crying mode, so she glommed on to the traces of anger inside her. Michel lied to her. He was a liar. She was angry because he was a lying liar.
But did it really matter that he’d kept his engagement a secret from her? An engagement in name only? Until she realized she loved him, hadn’t she planned on finding herself a perfect-on-paper husband once Michel left?
Would it have changed anything if he’d told her about his engagement? Of course she would’ve been shocked at first, but it would only have confirmed her stubborn stance that they were just passing through each other’s lives. She probably would’ve convinced herself that she didn’t care if he was formally engaged, because they were never supposed to have a future anyway. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. If he hadn’t proposed.
But he had proposed. He asked her to leave everything behind to be with him. That changed everything .
“I know you’re worried, Appa.” She squeezed his hand and stood up. “But I’ll be okay. I just need a little time to myself.”
“Let me know when you’re ready to talk.” Her dad let her retreat to her room even though she could tell it was hard for him.
Emma had hoped to cry herself to sleep, but no such luck. She paced the room like a caged animal, every instinct in her telling her that she had to run away. Run away from what? It didn’t matter. Her muscles ached, taut and alert, and she was going to crawl out of her skin if she didn’t do something. She had to cook. She needed to lose herself in it.
Time and distraction were all she needed. She would’ve lost Michel in two weeks anyway. That had always been the plan until last night. It wasn’t the end of the world that it ended now instead. And no matter what, she would not think about his proposal.
“How long has she been like this?” Auntie Soo whispered to her dad.
They were both standing at the entrance to the kitchen, looking down at her crouched form with worried eyes. But Emma couldn’t spare them more than a quick glance. She was busy.
Shaking her head to clear the fog from it, Emma returned to mixing the kimchi with both her hands. Her thighs burned from crouching in front of the giant stainless steel mixing bowl on the floor. You had to make kimchi on the kitchen floor. The massive mixing bowl barely fit on the counter, and it was hard to dig in your hands properly when the bowl was elevated. Her arms burned, too. She actually ached everywhere. She hadn’t been sleeping. Or eating. Or feeling. Not feeling was her main priority. That required her not to think—which in turn required her to stay busy. Busy, busy, busy .
“Too long,” her dad answered in a low, sad voice. “I thought she just needed some time, but this has been going on for three days now.”
“Oh my. It’s a good thing I stopped by.” Auntie Soo stepped closer to Emma. “You need to stop cooking and cleaning, child. You’re going to wear yourself down to the bones.”
“Yes, baby girl,” her dad added gently. “Why don’t you go have a seat? You’ve been in the kitchen for hours. Days, really.”
“Almost done.” Emma clicked shut the fourth container of kimchi—this one was chonggak kimchi with little white radishes and long green stems. She’d already made baechu kimchi with napa cabbage, ggakdugi with squares of chopped white radishes, and oi sobagi with cucumbers and chives. “I just want to make sure we don’t run out of kimchi for the next few months.”
“You made enough to last us a year. Please be reasonable,” her dad pleaded. “We don’t have any more room in the refrigerator. Even the freezer is full from the mandu and bulgogi you made two days ago.”
“You need to stop this instant.” Her godmother towered over her with her fists on her hips. Emma had enough sense left to be scared into compliance. “Your dad is worried sick.”
“Let me just put this away,” she croaked.
Emma had been determinedly cheerful as she cooked nonstop for the last three days. Every time she stopped from pure exhaustion, her heart beat out a frantic, erratic beat and panic built in her stomach. Her dad had been patient, giving her all the room she needed. But it seemed she had run out of time.
Emma put the chonggak kimchi in the kimchi refrigerator, pulled off her rubber gloves, and untied her apron. After folding the apron into a neat square and placing it on top of the counter, she trudged out to the living room and sat down on the couch. She stared blankly at the wall, fighting back feelings.
“Soo, thank you for getting her out of the kitchen,” her dad said from the hallway. “I think I need to do this one on my own. I… I need to talk to my daughter.”
“Of course, Jae. Please let me know how it goes.” Her godmother paused to sniffle. Was she crying? Emma only felt mild regret. “And I’m here for you and Emma anytime you need me.”
“I know, old friend.” His voice was thick with emotion, too. Had she made both of them cry? It was hard to take in, so she ignored it. After clicking the front door shut, her dad came to the living room and sat down beside her. “Emma, I know it’s hard, but I need you to tell me what happened. This can’t go on.”
“Michel…” She forced herself to breathe. “We broke up.”
“I gathered as much.” Her dad dragged a hand down his face. “But there’s more.”
“Yes, a lot more,” Emma agreed. “You know how I started going on matseons with the men that Auntie Soo handpicked for me?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I thought letting her match me up with someone who has a lot in common with me—someone perfect on paper—was the key to a safe, stable marriage.” She glanced down at her hands. “Marrying for love seemed like a foolish risk. I… I didn’t want what happened with you and Mom to happen to me.”
“Oh, Emma.” Her dad tugged her into a hug. “I’m so sorry we made you think that way. I think your mom and I messed up by telling you we split up because of incompatibility.”
“What do you mean?” She pulled back to look at him.
“Irreconcilable differences seemed like such a generic, harmless reason to give you. I realize now how much harm it actually caused.” He shook his head, regret shadowing his eyes. “Emma, your mom and I were… What was it you said? Perfect on paper. It wasn’t a lack of common ground that drew us apart, but a lack of unconditional love.”
“I don’t understand.” Her brows knitted together.
“You and I… we never came first to your mom. When push came to shove, she chose her work over us without fail.” Her dad sighed. “Her career had always been important to her. I married her knowing I would always come second—that I would never have all of her. But I loved her and thought it would be better to have a part of her than none at all.
“Then you came along, and I watched your mom make you promises she couldn’t keep. It broke my heart to watch you search for her in the auditorium every time she missed one of your school recitals. Your mom and I fought more and more. I couldn’t stand by while she hurt you time and time again.
“And it wasn’t only you. I realized I was tired of being second best. I wasn’t happy with having just a part of her anymore. I finally asked her to choose family over work—at least most of the time—but she just couldn’t. Her career was too important to her.” Her dad grasped both of Emma’s hands. “We decided to tell you we were incompatible so you wouldn’t think the divorce was in any way your fault.”
Of course . She blew out a shaky breath as the puzzle pieces clicked into place and she saw patterns she’d refused to see before. It all made sense. If she’d wanted to, her mom could’ve had a real relationship with her instead of an obligatory annual Christmas call. It wasn’t like she stayed away because she was incompatible with her own daughter. Her mom just had no space for her. Emma thought she’d come to terms with her absence a long time ago, but this clarity gutted her a little.
“Your mom loves you in her own way,” her dad said gently.
“But she loves her career more,” Emma bit out.
She tried so hard not to think about the heartache her mom caused her, but she had every right to be angry with her—hurt and angry. She needed to let it out sometimes. It didn’t need to happen right away—this was a lot to take in—but it would eventually help her move on.
“It doesn’t matter, though.” And she meant it. She was grateful for the life she had. “You and Auntie Soo have more than made up for Mom’s absence.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Her dad sniffed. “God knows I tried.”
“You did good, Appa.” She squeezed his hands. “We both did.”
“Now, my dear.” He leveled a steady gaze on her. “Tell me what happened.”
“Michel’s engaged.” She realized the second the words left her mouth that she had opened on the wrong note.
“I’ll kill him.” Her dad shot to his feet as though he intended to commit murder right that instant.
“Sit down, Appa. I thought we already talked about this. I don’t want you going to prison.” She tugged on the side of his pants. “And it’s a bit more complicated than it sounds.”
“He was cheating on his fiancée with you,” he shouted. “That rotten bastard was using you. And what? Then he just dumped you?”
“Dad, you got it all… well… mostly wrong.” She huffed out an exasperated laugh, feeling more like herself for the first time in days. “Sit down. Please?”
Her dad sat down beside her, his shoulders bunched and his hands in white-knuckled fists. Emma had never seen him so angry before. But at least he sat down.
“First, he didn’t dump me. I left him.” As expected, that appeased her dad by a smidgen, but it broke her heart to say the words. She left him. “And second, he wasn’t cheating on her. They’re just friends and neither of them want to marry each other. Their parents arranged the engagement when they were babies.”
“Okay.” He blew out a long, calming breath. “Emma, you’re normally unnervingly frank. This roundabout explanation makes me think you haven’t gotten everything figured out yet.”
“I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” Her lips curled into a wry grin even though her insides were quaking with nerves. Talking to her dad meant having to face all the things she’d been avoiding for the past three days.
“Why would you ever want to?” He smiled sweetly, his rare display of anger gone without a trace. “You’re perfect.”
“Am I?” She leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling undeserving of his praise. “From the moment I met Michel, I felt such a deep connection to him. But I fought tooth and nail against it because I was so afraid of falling in love.”
“Did you win that fight?” he said with a skeptical arch of his brow. How did parents just know stuff?
“Not even close.” Her throat closed up with tears. “I fell head over heels in love with him. And he fell for me, too.”
“Then why did you break up?” A confused frown lined his forehead.
“Because Michel is the crown prince of Rouleme.” She cringed, preparing herself for her dad’s reaction. He choked on his own spit, and she pounded on his back until he was breathing normally. After a steadying breath, she added, “And he asked me to marry him.”
“Wait. What?” Her dad cradled his head in his hands. “I need you to put this into chronological order for me. When did you find out he was a prince? A prince ? Holy cow.” He glanced up. “I’m so sorry, my dear. It’s just a bit overwhelming. Please go on. When did he tell you?”
“Weeks ago,” she confessed. If that was the real reason she broke up with him, then she would’ve done so long before this.
“You must’ve been shocked.” He still looked shocked.
“I guess.” She scratched at a stain on her sleeve. She must’ve splashed some kimchi on it earlier.
“You guess?” Her dad’s voice rose with disbelief.
“I mostly pretended it didn’t matter.” She scrubbed at the stain with a bit of her own spit. Eww . What was she doing? “I told myself it didn’t make a difference since we didn’t have a future together anyway—we were already too different to begin with. So I stubbornly ignored the fact that he’s a prince. I know. It’s bonkers. You don’t think I’m so perfect now, do you?”
“I just wish I’d talked to you about your mom and me sooner. That’s all,” her dad said, guilt marring his face. “Then what happened? When did you find out he was engaged?”
“Three days ago.” She didn’t want to think about that day. She wanted to shut down all her feelings and keep making kimchi. But her dad loved her too much to let her hide from herself.
Her dad nodded. “And when did he propose to you?”
“The day before I found out he was engaged.” Her voice broke, the truth becoming harder and harder to ignore.
“Did you give him an answer when he proposed?” he gently prodded.
“No.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I needed time to think.”
“Did you have an answer for him when you saw him the next day?” Her dad took both her hands and enveloped them between his own, lending his warmth and strength.
“I don’t know,” she whispered as tears rained down her cheeks. There was no more hiding from her thoughts. “I didn’t want to lose him. I wanted to find a way. Then Marion let slip that he had a fiancée, and I got so angry. I couldn’t believe he had a backup plan.”
But she couldn’t dredge up any anger. Was she even angry, then? Or did she just need an excuse to run?
“Kind of like your backup plan?” Her dad didn’t pull his punch. He knew this was too important. “Didn’t Soo have men lined up to meet you whenever you were ready?”
“That’s beside the point, Appa. Do you realize what Michel was asking of me?” Her words took on a shrill note. “He was asking me to leave behind everything I know and love to move to another country—another continent—to be with him. He was asking me to give up everything while he risked nothing .”
“So what you’re really angry about is the fact that he asked you to marry him—not that he has a fiancée who he doesn’t want to marry?” His expression was stern as he pushed her to face the truth.
“Yes.” She jumped to her feet and paced the floor. “No.”
“Or are you just scared, Emma?” He stood and held her by the shoulders, not letting her look away. “Because it’s okay to be scared. I’d be scared, too, in your shoes.”
Emma stopped breathing. She stared unblinkingly at her dad, blood pounding in her ears. He was right. She wasn’t angry. She was scared… about everything. But most of all, she was scared of losing Michel.
“What if I leave everything behind to be with him in Rouleme and he…” She cried into her hands, unable to continue for a moment. She finally raised tear-soaked eyes to her dad. “And he stops loving me? What if he realizes I’m ordinary and… and boring and stops wanting to be with me?”
“Not possible.” He gathered her in his arms. “You’re extraordinary and always interesting.”
A sound between a sob and a laugh broke past her tears.
“I’ve seen the way that young man looks at you—like his world begins and ends with you. That kind of love doesn’t change as long as you both choose love above all else.”
“Promise, Appa?” she whispered through trembling lips, tears coming down in torrents. “I’m so scared his love will fade. I don’t think I can bear to lose him.”
“Ask yourself this.” He paused as though to emphasize the importance of his question. “Would you ever stop loving him?”
“No.” She jerked back in surprise. She knew in the depths of her soul that her love would never change. “Never.”
“Then why do you doubt his love for you? If you believe he loves you with all his heart, then love him back with all of yours.” Her dad wiped her face dry with his handkerchief, snot and all. “ That’s the key to forever.”
She let her dad’s words sink in and realized what she had to do—what she should’ve done all along. “Appa, I have to go.”
Emma would always love Michel, so she had to love him with jeongseong—generously, wholeheartedly, and fearlessly. If anyone deserved her very best—her everything—he did. And it started now.