51. （CLING）ing
VERENA
51
Iwoke up with a pounding headache, the room spinning slightly as I tried to make sense of my surroundings. The sunlight streamed through the curtains, too bright, too harsh, piercing my skull like a thousand tiny daggers. I squinted and realized I was in the main bedroom of Jae’s house in the Hamptons.
Groaning, I sat up, the events of the previous night a hazy blur of neon lights, loud music, and too many drinks.
Stumbling into the living room, I stopped short when I saw Jae. He was sitting on the couch, my laptop open on his knees, tears in his eyes. The sight of him like that sent a jolt through me.
“What happened last night?” I croaked, my voice hoarse and raspy from a combination of too much alcohol and too much yelling over the music.
He looked up, his eyes red-rimmed and glossy, ignoring my question. “You wrote the book,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
I frowned, my brain struggling to catch up. “What are you doing here, Jae?”
“I saw the charges on my card and showed up,” he explained, closing the laptop and setting it aside. “I was already on my way and then came to the club. But more importantly, this book, Verena. It’s…it’s fucking good.”
I blinked, my hangover making it hard to process his words. “You stayed up to read it?”
He nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek. “It’s really good. The way you wrote about her growth… It’s incredible.” He stood up abruptly, crossing the room to me in a few quick strides. Before I knew it, he had wrapped me in a tight hug.
“You did it,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “You really did it.”
I stood there, stunned, feeling his warmth seep into me. This was Jae, but it was a side of him I hadn’t seen in years. I saw glimpses of the boy who used to cheer me on in college, the guy who supported me and wanted me to chase my dreams.
“How did I get home?” I asked, my voice muffled against his chest.
“I brought you home,” he said, pulling back slightly to look at me. “I sent Laura back to Jersey.”
I pulled back, frowning. “Jae, that’s rude.”
“We’re staying here for a while,” he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument.
I gaped at him. “What?”
He smiled, a boyish grin that made my heart skip a beat. “I’m making breakfast. Jennifer taught me a few skills I want to test out. So go shower.”
I stared at him, bewildered. “What?”
“Shower,” he repeated, gesturing towards the bathroom. “Get ready. I’m making your favorite.”
I stood there, open-mouthed, trying to process this new, unfamiliar version of Jae. He looked at me expectantly. “Verena?”
“Yeah?” I managed to say.
“I’m ready for us now,” he said softly, his eyes full of sincerity.
“Oh,” I replied, my heart racing.
He leaned in and kissed me softly, his lips warm and gentle against mine. When he pulled away, he smiled. “Now go shower. You taste like really expensive whiskey and vomit.”
I laughed, the sound surprising even me. “Okay,” I said, still a bit dazed.
As I turned to go to the bathroom, I glanced back at him. He was already heading to the kitchen, whistling softly. For the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, we could make this work.
I stood under the hot spray of the shower, letting the water wash away the remnants of last night’s debauchery. My head still throbbed, but the fog was beginning to lift. I couldn’t stop thinking about Jae—about the way he had looked at me, the way he had spoken about my book with such raw emotion. It was like seeing a different person, a glimpse of the man I had befriended years ago.
After showering, I wrapped myself in a towel and stepped out, feeling somewhat human again. I dressed quickly in a pair of comfortable jeans and a soft sweater, my mind still reeling from the morning’s revelations.
As I walked into the kitchen, the smell of cooking bacon greeted me. Jae stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with a practiced ease. He looked over his shoulder and smiled when he saw me, his eyes lighting up in a way that made my heart skip a beat.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice warm and inviting.
“Morning,” I replied, my voice still a bit shaky. “What’s all this?”
“Breakfast,” he said simply. “Your favorite. Bacon, pancakes, and eggs.”
“You remember.”
“Of course I do,” he said, turning back to the stove. “I remember everything about you.”
I watched him for a moment, marveling at this unexpected turn of events. This was the Jae I had missed, the one who knew me better than anyone. The one who cared.
“So,” I said, leaning against the counter, “you stayed up all night reading my book?”
He nodded, his expression serious. “I couldn’t put it down, Verena. It’s incredible. The way you wrote about her growth, her struggles…it felt so real.”
“Thank you,” I said softly, my heart swelling with pride and emotion.
He turned off the stove and plated the food, setting it on the table. “Come on, sit down. Eat.”
We sat across from each other, the silence between us filled with unspoken words. I picked at my food, my mind racing with questions.
“Why did you come here, Jae?” I finally asked, looking up at him.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because I’m ready to prioritize you, Verena.”
I looked down at my plate, my appetite suddenly gone. “You can’t just waltz back into my life and expect everything to be okay.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “I don’t expect that. But I want to try. I want to make things right.”
I sighed, feeling the weight of his words. “Jae, it’s not that simple.”
“I know it’s not,” he said, his voice earnest. “But I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t do everything in my power to get you back.”
I met his gaze, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt. But all I saw was sincerity, a raw honesty that took my breath away.
“Oh,” I said softly, my mind struggling to catch up with my heart.
He reached across the table and took my hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “I’m not asking for everything to be perfect. I just want a chance. A chance to show you that I’m here for you. That I want us to work.”
I squeezed his hand, feeling a surge of hope. “Okay,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s going to take time. And we have a lot to work through.”
“I know,” he said, his grip tightening. “And I’m ready for that.”
“How have you been, Jae? Really?”
“It was hard for a while. Really hard. But I have to thank you for forcing me to be there, to settle, to sit still. It was the first time in ten years I was really still.”
He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a tattoo on his forearm. I stared at it, recognizing the intricate design immediately. It was a traditional Korean hanok, the same one Auntie had chosen and showed me the last night we’d spent together. The detail was incredible—the curved roof, the ornate patterns. It was as if a piece of history had been etched into his skin.
I laughed despite the lump forming in my throat. “You and Auntie got matching tattoos?” I asked, shaking my head in disbelief.
“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “It was her idea. Said it would be a reminder of home, of family. Of taking time to be still. It was…it was special.”
My eyes watered, the significance of his words hitting me hard. “I can’t believe it. You, getting a tattoo.”
Jae laughed, the sound rich and warm, sharply contrasting with the seriousness of our conversation. “Yeah, neither can I. But it felt right. She wanted to do it, and so did I. It was a way to honor everything she stood for.”
I looked at him, tears threatening to spill over. The gesture, the commitment, it was all so deeply meaningful. “Thank you for being there for her, Jae. It means more than you know.”
He reached out, wiping a tear from my cheek with his thumb, his touch gentle and comforting. “She was strong, Verena. Right up to the end. And I needed to be the one there with her. You gave me that chance.”
I nodded, my heart heavy with gratitude and sorrow. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
He shook his head, his expression softening with understanding. “It needed to be me. She wanted it that way. And she’d want this book to be out in the world. She’d want her story to be told.”
I took a deep breath. “I wrote Auntie’s story. This incredible woman who adopted her nephew as a single woman. Whose fiancé left her when she found out she would be taking on a teenage son. Who still built a life and found fulfillment despite it all.”
Jae’s eyes softened. “She was amazing, wasn’t she?”
“She was,” I agreed, my voice thick with emotion. “Writing her story was my way of honoring her, of keeping her legacy alive.”
Jae squeezed my hand, his grip firm and reassuring. “You did a beautiful job, Verena. She’d be so proud of you.”
I felt a swell of emotion rise in my chest. “I just wanted to do her justice. To tell the world how incredible she was.”
“You did,” Jae said softly. “Every word, every page. It’s a testament to her strength and her love.”
For a moment, we sat in silence, the memories of Auntie filling the space between us. It was a comfortable silence, one that spoke of shared grief and mutual understanding.
“What now?” I asked, afraid of the answer.
He smirked. “I’m taking you on a date, baby.”