Til Death Do Us Part

48

I spot them as I scoop most onto my tray in a haphazard manner and move to take them from him when a lightning bolt strikes me out of the blue.

“Sohla?” A breathy, almost non-existent question, aimed right at my face, and my world comes crashing down around my ears. As though my brain stammers, and I flinch at the shock of hearing it after so long.

My head snap reaction brings my eyes to a set of wide-open, startled, and familiar dark browns, locked on me as though he’s unable to blink. Set in a face that still haunts my dreams most nights, for a million different reasons. I don’t know which one of us is in the worst state of disbelief because it feels pretty close to both. My body turns to liquid at being three inches away from the man I never wanted to see again, and my hands start to tremble, swallowing hard as my insides crumble.

“It’s…… it’s really you?... Sohla….” He’s breathy, obviously in a state of shock, and staring at me like he can’t process it at all. Still kneeling here in the middle of my crowded restaurant, and yet it’s like we’re caught in a bubble where noise and the presence of others have faded away. Oblivious to our surroundings. His eyebrow twitches, pupils dart from one of mine to the other in quick succession. He has the shocked, stiff, and gawping of a man who’s just seen a ghost and doesn’t know how to react. It’s obvious he’s having a hard time taking this in and believing what he sees, and I thankfully pull my head out of my ass quicker than he does. Knowing my life might depend on my ability to get out of this fast.

“Anna… My name’s Anna. Anna Tarry.” I scoot up to standing fast, getting away from him as his aftershave follows and near suffocates me with his unchangeable scent and memories. He hasn’t changed it in all these years, and it’s like I’m transported back to a time when he used to get close enough for me to live in that smell. It used to be a source of comfort, and now it causes acute agony.

His eyes follow me, and he too scrambles to his feet awkwardly, sticking close, his breathing labored, and his skin pale from what I guess is a reaction to seeing a dead wife, and I curse myself for getting caught this way. Never in a million years would I think he, of all people, would walk in here. He must have come from one of the boats. Jyeon never used to do anything like that, and it hurts me in my heart to know his life has changed dramatically if he now takes time to go on vacations and hang out with his friends. It’s like me being gone was for the best.

“Soh……. Ummm, I’m sorry. I just……. You look so much like… You really look like her.” he’s having trouble formulating words, and the loud happy chorus of men chatting among themselves while being boisterous makes me cringe as I pick out familiar voices behind him. They must be the group of six Greta was talking about and my hands start to sweat while nausea swirls up and suffocates me. I hear Bryant and Avery among them all, and I step backward, aware this will get messier if I don’t move. The internal flight or fight taking over and telling me to run far away.

“So, your starters won’t be long. I’ll take this and clean it up if you want to head back to your table, sir.” I force the local dialect and keep my voice upbeat and friendly, acting like I don’t know him and ignoring what he says. Being flippant and breezy. Pulling out the acting ability I used to rely on to get through my feelingless life and hating that I can’t do it the same way quite so well anymore. I turn on my heel to walk away, with my heart hammering through my chest at a hundred miles an hour, and know this is going to be brutal not to look back.

“Wait… Sohla, wait.” He catches me by the wrist, tone strained, instantly frantic to keep me by him, and my stomach lurches into my mouth with the familiar touch of his skin on mine. A touch that ruins my composure and makes me hate the human body’s ability to remember things like this. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been; it’s right back to the past with one little touch. Warming my skin, tingling, and catapulting butterflies through my internal organs.

Using my entire willpower, I slide free from his touch, keeping my face straight and not outwardly reacting, and force all my strength into holding my voice steady.

“I’m sorry, sir, I told you… my name is Anna. I don’t know anyone called Sohla. I think you’re mistaking me for someone else.” I make my accent heavy and thick and try to mimic Amber’s lazy way of talking to throw him off. Pained by the desperation in his expression and the moisture that seems to be filling his eyes. The way he tenses his jaw to keep his emotions under wraps. His reaction feels like being sucker-punched because I don’t expect it, and I have never seen him like this in relation to me in a long, long time. If I didn’t know better, he seems like he’s had a hard time while I wasn’t there. That he so achingly wants me to be Sohla.

“You live here? I mean….. for how long? Is this where you’re from?” He doesn’t seem to want to believe me. The questions flow out as he grabs hold of some sanity again, and I curse him inwardly for not letting it go. His eyes rake my face and search for signs of the woman he knew. I can see it, knowing him so well. It hurts my heart to see him this way when I know the reality is that it’s probably shock and nothing more profound. He wanted me gone, and I need to remind myself of that. He even played a massive part in making me so.

I can’t believe that Jyeon, of all people, is standing here in our place, and I try and edge away, pasting a smile on my face. Physically I don’t know how I’m still standing and holding all this in because my limbs turn to flimsy paper. It’s taking everything inside of me, and I’m not sure I can keep it up if he follows me again.

“Her whole life, she’s my sister. Is there a problem?” Greta’s voice seeps in, and I exhale with relief as she appears next to me. Balancing plates of scallop starters and eyeing him up like he’s a threat. I can see the way she looks him over from head to toe, and I know she’s seen only vague images of him a long time ago, on the internet, and probably didn’t click at all that it’s Jyeon when they came in here. She wouldn’t expect it either.

Jyeon looks to her, then me, his brow lowering in confusion as he appraises us side by side, as her words filter through. There’s a definite crumbling expression of crushed hope and disappointment, and he looks away as though trying to compose himself. He swallows hard, inhales a couple of times, slowly, turns back, and stares at me dead in the eye once more.

“I’m sorry, Miss…… Anna.” He reads my name badge as though trying to confirm it for himself. “Mistaken identity. I apologize for weirding you out. You look so much like someone I lost. I’m sorry.” He gives me a slight nod as a way of apologizing and yet doesn’t move away from me. He seems rooted to the spot, so I go instead. Not able to take any more of this, and my face is aching with keeping it blank. I turn on my heel and walk away towards the stairs while breaking the urge to speed up or run, or it might look suspicious. Leaving Greta with him and acting like I’m not phased at all.

My legs are shaking, my hands are icy cold, and it feels as though I just got hit by a train with the way my emotions are crashing about inside of me. I’m shaking all over and letting all my breath out as I scale the stairs and cling on to the rail so I don’t fall as my body gives up on me.

He’s still as gorgeous as I remember, still as deadly to my weak soul. Smooth, well-spoken, and mature. Dressed nicely and emanating that particular type of charm he always had. It’s more than wealth and a good education; it’s something stable and warm about him that used to feel like safety to me. Familiarity. Jyeon’s always been of another league compared to most men.

I hate that one little sighting brings it all bubbling up inside of me, just how much I missed him all this time. How much it still hurts. How badly and deeply. How, when I should hate him and be afraid of him, all I see is the man I love … even still ….. and it messes with my head.