Til Death Do Us Part

29

Maybe I’m the one who should walk off into the sunset and forget I ever lived this way. It’s not like I need money, my parents left me enough of it, but it’s never brought me happiness. I have everything in life I could materialistically want, and yet I envy regular women on the street who seem to live a life full of love. I miss my family, my mother’s warmth. I miss everything I had when I didn’t have to face adult problems and carry adult burdens.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out reluctantly, seeing Jyeon’s name on my screen, and sigh heavily. I’m guessing his little wench went crying to him about my visit and s**t’s about to get real. I had hoped she wouldn’t be the type to pull him in and show him what choice I gave her because I knew he could sway her to his will instead. It shows how different we are. This weak girl cried to Jyeon to fix this for her while I was the girl who always dealt with everything on my own and never bothered him with the details.

 There’s no other reason he would seek me out apart from that. I red-button him and turn off my cell because I’m not ready to walk back into the storm when I feel this way.

I get up and re-engage the armor. Well, try to. Pull on the cloak of indifference and wipe away my tears, giving my parents one last lingering look.

“Would it devastate you if I just let it all go?” I ask in a mocking tone and laugh at my stupidity. Knowing that my father’s legacy was everything to him, I’m the only one left to carry his torch. That mother would chase me to the ends of the earth to make me suffer for letting her down.

I head back to my car and get in, brain shifting to autopilot and turning over the engine. Putting it into gear and moving off without a backward glance because I know my past isn’t there to help me. It’s been years since I came here, eleven since they died, and yet it hurts as much as if it were yesterday and offers no comfort.

I zone out, turning the radio on full blast as I drive the thirty minutes home and try to remind myself what I’m even fighting for anymore. My head is sore to the point I see stars in the air, and I have no aspirin with me to dull it down. I rub my temple and speed along the highway, zooming past slow-down signs as though I’m oblivious. Zoning out with thoughts and finding only darkness and disappointment as conclusions.

It doesn’t take me as long to get home as leaving did, and I’ll probably get a swarm of speeding tickets in the mail, but I want to lay down and reset my brain before taking on any more bullshit.

I walk into a dark, seemingly empty lower floor of our home, with only lamps and dimmer lighting warming the area, which it’s weird given it’s only after dinner. There are no signs of anyone down here, so I pad through to the kitchen in bare feet to get myself water and pills to relieve me from this invasive throbbing.

I stop short, flinching internally when I spot Jyeon standing at the counter, leaning forward on it with his palms splayed out and his head lowered. He’s staring at something laid there, oblivious to my presence, nestled beside his cell and car key, and I swallow hard as I focus on what appears to be my paperwork and the photos I left at Claire’s.

I hate that my hunch was correct, that she ran straight to him and told him rather than being smart and saving him a world of trouble. Jyeon’s head snaps up upon hearing my footsteps and he wastes no time confronting me. I paste my cold expression and move on as planned to get some medicine.

“Just when I start to feel bad for you, you always pull something out of the bag that completely turns me around again and reminds me you’ll stop at nothing to win. What the f**k are these?” he swipes the top layers aggressively and sends them splaying off the bunker and across the floor around my feet, light falling leaves, as he scowls at me and locks his gaze on mine. Softness and regret are gone, and he picks up my printed document that informs her of my intention to sue for the loss of contract between our companies.

I step over them and lay my handbag on the counter on top of a few strewn loners with delicacy and shrug. Leaning down to open the cabinet and retrieve our medicine storage, acting like I don’t see them.

“I actually agonized over you finding out like that, hating myself for not telling you the truth….. only to find you f*****g knew all along and were having me followed. f*****g followed. What even is that? What gave you the right? Was that all an act, Sohla?” He slams the paper down on the counter again. The side of his fist makes a dull thud, and I cringe but continue with what I’m doing as though I’m unbothered about all of this. My heart is racing, and my pulse is chaotic, but I’m a calm sea on the surface.

“This is your plan, huh? To chase her away and hold a threat of ruining me over her head? Do you think that’ll work? That I’m a pushover that would sacrifice someone I care about because you have a tantrum?”

I inhale deeply, place the box on top of the counter and unclip it to open, ignoring him, and rifle inside for headache tablets. He isn’t saying anything I don’t already know or thought about while driving home. This isn’t news to me, and I guess I prepared precisely for this.

 Jyeon loses his temper with my carefree attitude and slaps it sideways, away from me, sending the box clambering and the contents scattering everywhere. I watch with no reaction as he creates a mess with a scattering of packets and bottles, and some loose pills roll under the cooker. The noise hurts my already sensitive brain, and I hold my breath for a second.

“You don’t think I’ll take you head-on and fight you? That this isn’t about another woman and me, but about me being sick of being tethered to you. That your methods, like this bullshit, are the reason I hate being around you.”

His words finally break my silence in indignation.

“Why are you the victim in this?” I utter it steadily, quietly as though it just dawned on me. Not meeting his eyes anymore as I sit down on the breakfast stool to give my legs a break and rest my weary body. Knowing if I walk away, he’ll probably follow for the first time ever in a fight instead of leaving it alone. I can just tell. He is looking to defend her and wound me, and he’s like a dog with a bone if he’s the one to start the fight.

“I mean, what did I do, Jyeon? From day one…. From an age where I didn’t even get a choice, what did I do?” My voice trembles, and I implore him. “What was it that made you abandon me and leave me to fend for myself after years of being sheltered and protected? What did I do that was so awful when I held everything together and took as much as I could before I was even an adult? What did I do to deserve how much you loathe me?”

My voice wavers, and tears hit the back of my throat. I’m tired of this existence, and tired of his hatred for me. I’m tired of fighting to hold onto him when I already know it’s futile. So not able to keep fighting myself anymore and am too exhausted to try holding it in.

“Did you ever stop and think that I didn’t deserve any of it? That I didn’t ask for any of it.”

Jyeon’s anger seems to fade, and he drops his chin, looking away from me as his jaw flexes and his eyebrow twitches. Thinking about my words and then shaking them off and staring back at me once more. His anger is still bubbling under the surface, and it pains me to take in the handsome face and see only how much he despises me.

“What about our daughter, Sohla. Did I deserve that? Did she?” He hits me with the one thing I know he can never get past. The one tiny thorn in his heart escalated everything.

“Maybe you should ask your mother. I’m done here, do what you want…… I’m going to bed.” I cave, not strong enough tonight to bring up Tia in this. Never strong enough to talk about her.

“What the f**k is that supposed to mean? Why would I ask my mother? Don’t you dare walk away from me right now!”

His angry tone follows me as I get up and start to move away, inhaling to try and stay calm and blot him out, but he yanks my wrist from behind, across the counter, and I’m pulled harshly into the cabinet.

“Forget it. It changes nothing. Let me go. I’m going to bed.” I yank my arm free, but he follows me, seething and not ready to back down.

“I’m moving out. Tonight. Taking what’s left of my s**t that you didn’t destroy and going to stay with her. It’s over, Sohla, between us. It’s never going to be what you want it to be. I’m not coming back.” I stop dead in my tracks, and he bumps into me from behind, knowing he’s wounded me in the worst way, and yet his choice doesn’t even shock me, not truly. My heart catapults and my mouth runs dry as everything inside of me contracts with pain. I can deny it all I want, but deep inside, I knew Jyeon wouldn’t take it lying down and let me push him into a corner. It’s why I pinned my efforts on making her leave.

“I’ll not hold back if that’s what you do. I’ll ruin both of you.” I threaten him, but my voice is feeble and low, and even I know that I don’t sound like someone who’ll carry out what I said I would do. His body heat is right behind me, suffocating me with his presence as he leans into my ear, over my right shoulder, and my body tingles with his closeness. Goosebumps travel over my skin and my stomach flutters despite everything, and I hate my body for still responding to him this way.

“I told you, I’d fight. I’m not some weak opponent who will stand back and let you destroy my life. I want out. Away from you, away from this toxic mess between us, as far away as possible. You were never my choice, and I’m tired of being controlled.”

“Then leave. Take her and go. Leave the company to Mother and me and Yoonha where you know I’ll take care of them.” I close my eyes as a tear escapes my lashes and bite on my lip to stop myself from showing him how ruined I am.

“It’s my company and my family. You’re the one who should disappear. We don’t need you; we never did, and I’d be happy if I never set eyes on you again for the rest of my life.” Jyeon nudges past me, so his shoulder shoves me, and I’m pushed aside, his words ringing in my ear and cascading down inside of my broken soul.

A cold and brutal way of signing off and telling me this conversation is done, and yet I’m the one deflated and left this way in the darkness. He heads for the stairwell in the lounge to go upstairs, and my legs give out under me, so I have to grab the countertop for support.

I turn and splay my palms, knocking his cell phone with my thumb, and it rattles his car key beside it, pulling my attention towards the shiny oval key. It’s for his sports car, his baby, his pride and joy. Thinking about how much he loves this dumb vehicle and how it would probably hurt him more to see it scratched than to see me bleed to death. Yet I stare at it for a long silent moment and then reach out and pick it up, turning it over in my hand as my venomous poison soars inside.

“I bought you this as a wedding present…. You don’t want the marriage, so why should you keep the car?” I ask out loud to no one in particular, and it leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

He seems to like using this as his preferred vehicle to visit his mistress, and I wonder if she thinks it’s sexy. A hot car for her hot boyfriend. The car his wife bought for him to celebrate their union is a great little love racer. I wonder if he’s touched her in that car, defiled it, or if he just took her places he never took me. I wonder if she knows who bought it for him.

I pick up his cell phone, open the refrigerator's freezer compartment, shove it inside as far back behind the bags of frozen vegetables as I can, and slam it shut. Petty, yes, but do I care? No.

I take his keys and head the opposite way to him, for the stairs down to our underground garage. Picking up his range rover ones from the wall rack in passing and put them in my pocket. If he wants to pack up and go, he can use a cab because I won’t make things easy for him. Starting right now, I’ll make him regret the choice he just made, and I’ll show him what a real fight is. How petty and immature I can be if that’s what he wants.

I walk into the parking garage and march past the rows of assorted luxury cars, including mine. Beeping at a distance to open it and notice it’s sat with the driver's door ajar already. He must have been in such a rush to get here and confront me he didn’t even close up his pride and joy or lock it up properly. I snort at the irony in that. Walk over and open it fully before sliding in without hesitation.

I press the start button and frown as it seems to choke, snort, and cough, and not starting correctly, and I screw my face up that his nine million dollar beast is a crappy starter. I know he spends a fortune on its maintenance, and I laugh at how much money this piece of crap costs to be this unreliable. Like its owner then. Just shows a high price tag, and a suave look doesn’t always get you quality.

I press it again and smirk when it roars into life, sounding more like the expected mean machine it boasts at being. I’ve driven it before, a long time ago, and I forgot just how much this baby can purr. I yank the door shut, slamming it with gusto, reverse at speed, and make my way to the outer door to rip this baby to shreds and leave it somewhere lonely to die.