XXIII.

Hesitation.

In life. Of decisions. Of choices.

A word of unfamiliarity before, once non-existent in Wendy’s life, yet now, had taken form, grown into vines that crippled Wendy from better possibilities.

Hesitation.

Its seed, first planted as she saw the image of her father, a silhouette under vague childhood visions, his back on her, on her mother, on her sister, barely nine then. Her mother in tears, crying, as Wendy remembered. Her mother was screaming in a desperate attempt, rasp and husky from a dried throat, pleading and pleading, “Please don’t leave us.”

But words didn’t budge Wendy’s father. A step into the other side, into the outside, out of their life, that was what he took.

Hesitation.

It started there. Then it had been watered, nourished, encouraged by insecurities—Wendy’s insecurities and troubles.

Of money. A debt that sprung from loans. So many of them. Her mother had reassured them she would pay them all back. Their store would do well. Give it time. It would all be okay. However, in life, as Wendy had gotten to learn, nothing ever stuck to plan.

Of people. People who gave her looks, sniggered, laughed, mocked as she walked the halls of her high school in glasses and a little bit of extra weight. Her hair cropped short, her uniform not as brand new as the others.

Hesitation that eventually led to strength. A temporary, fabricated strength.

Wendy swallowed the fear, the anxiety, even for a brief time. Her mother needed her, her sister needed her. The pillar her family used to have had gone, crumbled into dust. She had no choice but to take on the role. A pillar to support her family.

A confidence gained in the acceptance of her reality. A cruel yet durable reality, if she tried. Wendy learned that she had to. It was a decision, she believed, that she had no choice upon on.

But the hesitation was a pester, gnawing on her walls of confidence, trying to tear her apart and break her down. When Joohyun had left without a word, back in high school, the insecurities returned. When Wendy received the scholarship letter from Harvard, the fears returned. Being away from family, from her sister, from her mother… A daunting thought. Yet she had to pull through. For her family. For their debt.

Hesitation.

It revolved around her now, like how the moon circled the earth each passing day. It would tear her built-up strength into pieces, disabling her to become something more.

Hesitation when it came to love.

Irene had dragged it out, the hesitation, the fear, the anxiety, stepping on it as if it was a mere nuisance, nothing worth taking notice of. Irene’s confidence was real, unfaltering, as if it was made of steel. Nothing shook her, feared her. A confidence that Wendy could only imagine to have. Her confidence was built of frail frame, tattering at the edges, unsure, ready to disintegrate in an instant.

The fear that brought about hesitation.

The insecurities that led to hesitation.

Of not being good enough. Of being looked down upon. Of being criticised by everyone. Of being attacked, her family targeted. Wendy was weak, she realised. She had to gain power, money, strength. Stability relied on those things.

Three years ago, Wendy recalled.

“Stability,” her father had said. “That is what you want, right?”

He looked so healthy then. Inside the silver Audi, when it drove her away, stopping in front of the airport at Heathrow.

Wendy’s head was filled with questions: How did you find me? Where have you been all this time? Why did you leave our family? Rage seethed within her, years of pent-up frustration that stemmed from fear, from insecurities, from countless sufferings and hesitation. She gritted her teeth, wanting to get away initially but the burly men in suits were in the way.

“Your mother… she’s doing well, right?”

A mockery when Wendy had first heard it. The audacity to turn up now, to inquire and be—be curious about them, to care too late.

“You don’t need to know,” Wendy said, as vile as she could, spitting venom with her words.

Her father understood the anger, the resentment. He came here expecting that. Yet, he knew Wendy would approve, agree. He had something to offer. Wendy really had no choice.

“I’m dying,” he had said.

“What?” The man must be joking, playing Wendy for a fool.

“No, no. Liver cancer. I have five months left in me. Must be God’s punishment on me for getting greedy. When I’ve achieved all that I wanted. I managed to make a name for myself, create work for the many who are jobless. Just when you’re right there, at the top, that’s when life shuts you down. Ha… Cruel, indeed.”

“You don’t look… ill.”

“Well, I do, kiddo. Look at you all grown up. Eheyy. Your mother raised you well.”

Oddity there. Familial greeting? Well.

Wendy was supposed to be angry still, yet the way his father’s eyes smiled, the way his voice was a gentle, husky grumble, the way his laugh bellowed into nothing remotely menacing, made Wendy’s anger dissipate, fizzle out into slight sympathy.

She should be mad, angry, unforgiving. This man had left her family grovelling on the ground, barely a penny in their hands. But… dying… as if the heavens had taken it upon themselves to take action when she least expected it. Karma that didn’t feel rewarding nor satisfying. A person’s life was going to be taken. Her father’s life was going to be taken. Now that her father was suffering cruelty, Wendy felt nothing more but pity. Damn this kind heart her mother inherited down to her.

“I have a proposition,” he said. “Quick and simply put, I’m dying. I have a company. I don’t trust anyone in my company, as strange as that sounds. I know I have a daughter and that’s you.”

“So… you want me to take over your company?”

“I heard you have a business management degree. Harvard U. Atta girl, eh? Got your father’s brain cells. I believe in the saying, “blood is thicker than water”. Therefore, I have no one else I trust but you, my own blood. And Secretary Lee, of course, but he’s not my child and he’s not qualified.”

“But—but how can I? I have a life here.” I have Irene waiting for me at home.

“I know. I have files. That’s what rich people do. Snoop around people they care about. Creepy, right? Don’t get put off by that, it was a joke.”

Strange man. “What exactly do you know about me?”

“You live in London. Yerim and your mother is still in Daegu with millions of debt.”

“Loan sharks screwed with us. Took advantage of interest.”

“When you take over my company—no, our company, you’d have enough to pay off your family’s debt. You’d have enough to secure Yerim’s education, send her off to college. That’s what having a company does. Gives you stability.”

“But I’ve—I’ve never even heard of your company.”

“It’s new, sure. Nexon Electronics, it’s called. Nice name, eh? But it’s got a bit of age on it. Worked it to the bone. It has potential, that’s certain. First two years had been phenomenal. I have plans currently ongoing for the third year—this year—but I’m going to be expired in five months. Shame, really. I don’t want it all to go to waste. There are people within the company who need—no, count on their jobs, on me. They don’t have to, need to suffer because I couldn’t be bothered to take care of my liver properly.”

Wendy realised the absurdity of his words. What did this man know about care to speak of it that way? “How… how could you care so much over other people… over strangers, yet—yet you easily abandoned us, your own family?”

“I know it was terrible of me. But it’s not something I could’ve helped. I had a calling, Wendy. I had to start this company. Give jobs to people. Be a part of an innovation. Make people remember my name. Partly selfish of me, I know, but I believed it was for the better good.”

“We’re your family. Your own blood.”

“Kiddo, this money I had saved up… All of it… They all belong to you and Yerim and your mother. They are under your name. On my will, they’re all yours.”

“What’s the point of it all? The money, everything? This company? Your name remembered when you weren’t even there to see me graduate or take Yerim to her first day at school? You weren’t there when we had no food on our table or when my mother cried herself to sleep? You could’ve been with us, helped us, suffered with us! Together. That’s what family is about!” Wendy h