14. （WED）ge
JAE
14
After what was undeniably the worst day at work, I stormed into my penthouse. My mind was a chaotic mess. Without Verena to keep me on track, I was juggling too many plates, and today, they all shattered. Her absence revealed how much I depended on her, a reality I had never acknowledged. The idea of finding a replacement hung over me, but I doubted anyone could ever truly fill her shoes.
Stepping into my penthouse, I froze. Auntie was dancing on my pristine white couch, a glass of $700-a-bottle wine in hand, sloshing it around while belting out some K-pop tune. And Verena—hell, she looked good. Her usually strict ponytail was gone, her hair cascading down her shoulders. She had unbuttoned her top just enough to reveal the lace of her bra, and her pencil skirt was replaced by my gray sweats, rolled at the waist.
“My assistant is very drunk,” I muttered, amusement and surprise bubbling up. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen Verena let loose like this.
Auntie caught sight of me and paused mid-twirl, a wide, tipsy grin spreading across her face. “Oh, Jae is home!” she announced, like I was the guest of honor at a party.
“Apparently so,” I remarked dryly. I took a moment to take in the scene, the sheer absurdity of it all. The two most important women in my life were completely dismantling the orderly environment I had meticulously maintained.
Verena looked up, her eyes widening as if she had forgotten I might come home. Her cheeks were flushed—from alcohol, dancing, or both. She straightened up, futilely trying to smooth down my borrowed sweats.
“Auntie was just showing me some of her old dance moves,” she slurred, attempting decorum. “We decided to…uh, sample your wine collection. Hope that’s okay.”
I raised an eyebrow, a reluctant smile tugging at my lips. “Sampling, huh? That bottle was a Chateau something-or-other. Worth more than a small car.”
Auntie giggled, swaying slightly on the couch. “Oh, it’s just grape juice, Jae. Very expensive grape juice.”
I shook my head, my initial irritation fading as I took in their carefree expressions. It was rare to see Verena so unguarded, so…happy. And Auntie, despite everything, was clearly enjoying what little time she felt she had left.
“Looks like I missed the party,” I said, moving further into the room. The tension from my day began to dissolve, replaced by a warmth that only this kind of genuine human connection could foster.
“Yeah, but it’s not over yet,” Verena replied, patting the couch next to her. “Come join us, boss. You look like you could use a drink.”
“I can’t,” I said sharply. “I have work to do since you abandoned me today, and it was a clusterfuck.”
At my words, the playful smile vanished from Verena’s face, her eyes hardening as the warm atmosphere chilled. Auntie mumbled something about going to bed and shuffled out of the room, leaving us in sudden, uncomfortable silence.
“Oh, you always have to work,” Verena shot back, bitterness lacing her words. “You don’t even say ‘Honey, I’m home.’” Her mocking tone dripped with sarcasm.
“I wouldn’t have to work tonight if you did your job,” I retorted, my frustration bubbling over.
“I do three jobs,” she snapped, her voice rising as she stumbled closer. Her hands gripped my cheeks, pulling my face toward hers. “It pisses me off how serious you look when you work. Some of the women say it looks sexy.”
Verena’s fingers tightened on my cheeks, her face inches from mine, her breath tinged with the scent of expensive wine. “Yeah, they whisper about it, Jae. About how serious you look, like you’re going to conquer the world or burn it down. They think it’s hot.” She spat the last word as if it were an accusation.
“Does it?” I challenged, unable to resist pushing her buttons despite the tension strung tight between us. “Does it look sexy to you?”
Her eyes flicked down to my lips briefly before flashing back to mine again, her expression defiant. “No, it doesn’t. It looks lonely. It looks like you’re just…missing life.”
I let out a humorless chuckle, her words striking closer to home than I wanted to admit. “Maybe I am missing life, Verena. Maybe I’m just trying to keep everything together, ever think of that?” My voice rose, anger and desperation lacing each word.
“And maybe you’re not the only one keeping things together,” she shot back, her voice thick with emotion. “Maybe I’m tired, Jae. Tired of always being the one who has to be strong, who has to pick up after your messes, who has to?—”
I cut her off, my patience snapping. “So what, you want a medal? For doing the job you’re paid to do?” The words were out before I could stop them, and I regretted them instantly. But the dam had broken, and years of unspoken frustrations were spilling out unchecked.
Verena’s hands dropped from my face, and she took a step back, as if I’d physically pushed her. “I don’t want a medal, Jae. I want a friend. I want the guy I used to know who didn’t put work before everything else. But that guy’s gone, isn’t he? Buried under all your contracts and meetings.”
I scoffed, the tension between us crackling. “So now it’s my fault you’re unhappy? You think I enjoy this? I do what I have to for this empire.”
“And what about you?” she demanded, her eyes burning with intensity. “What do you do for you? Or is there nothing left of the Jae who used to laugh, who used to care about more than just the bottom line?”
For a moment, we stood there. My jaw tightened, unable to form a response, as the truth of her accusations settled deep.
She stared at my lips, her gaze drunk and unfocused, then shook her head slowly. Her hands forced the corners of my mouth into a smile. “There he is. There’s my Jae.”
Her balance faltered, and she nearly toppled over. Instinctively, I caught her, lifting her effortlessly. In one fluid motion, I threw her over my shoulder and carried her to my bedroom. It had been ages since our last drunken college sleepover, but some habits—like how easily she fit against me—didn’t fade.
I tossed her gently onto the bed, where she landed with a soft pout. As I began to loosen my tie, her voice cut through the silence, heavier now. “She’s really dying, Jae. And it hurts…more than anything I’ve ever felt.”
I paused, the tie hanging loose around my neck. The room felt colder, emptier.
“I hate that you make me pity you when I’m supposed to leave you,” she murmured, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
I knelt beside the bed, my hand brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “I normally don’t like pity, but I’ll take it,” I whispered, my own voice rough with emotion.
Knowing how she hated her hair touching her neck when she slept, I began to gently gather her locks into a loose bun. Then I grabbed a pair of socks from the dresser. She hated cold feet.
Once she was settled and seemed more comfortable, I climbed onto the bed beside her, powering up my laptop. The soft glow of the screen cast shadows across the room as I began to work, stealing glances at her. There, in the dim light, with her resting next to me, the weight of everything we were facing—of everything that might soon change—settled heavily on my shoulders. But for now, she was here, and that had to be enough.