XXVIII.

The car pulled to a stop. Wendy realised it had been a while since she visited her mother and sister. It wasn't like they didn't know about the whole ordeal, of her overtaking her father's estranged business, of her living in Seoul now. Her mother had been against it and she still was but Wendy couldn't do anything about that. Despite her father being estranged, blood was blood after all, and it's the same blood that she watched leave his body that day he passed, that partly seeped and flowed through her veins each day. She was part of him and a part of him was in her. How could she turn her back on that?

In any case, Wendy had still been in contact with her family since she took over her father's business, writing messages, phoning her sister once in a while. Not much had changed really — she was as busy as she was when she was working under Irene — Ms. Bae. Her family couldn't freely talk to her as they did when Wendy was at university — Wendy had to be the one to start the contact when she entered employment, to bridge that connection. Her family was incapable, they realised. They had the tools but if no one answered their calls, it was like howling through an endless cave, and their voices just reverberated back to them as if to mock them of their incapacities.

So it was a bit strange now, coming back home after three years. Her family had been unaware of her being rushed to the hospital, and not like she'd want them to know, but Irene insisted that it's the best time to see them. She recalled their conversation in the hospital:

"I'm guessing your family doesn't know you've been in the hospital?" Irene asked. There's no point wording it that way. Irene knew she was right, like how she knew the stock market in and out so Wendy didn't try to wriggle her way out. She shook her head in response. "I don't think letting them know would be any good. My mum would just remind me how terrible of a decision it was to take over this business," she said.

"That's true. But you might as well use this time, since you're recovering, to come and see them. You've been busy but you're free now. You probably haven't seen them since that time I gave you a week vacation to go to Korea, right?"

Wendy hesitated. She wasn't exactly on great terms with her mother since she had told her about accepting her father's wishes. It exactly won't be a holiday to see them. Besides, her mother was still unaware about Irene and their relationship with each other. It would be brewing trouble to go there.

As if sensing her worries, Irene held her hand. "I might not exactly know what the situation is between you and your family right now, but what I do know, is that it's best to see them anyway. They're still your family. You don't want to put distance between you and your family. Maybe because I never really had a proper family that I'm saying this but I hope you understand what I mean."

Wendy wondered then if that was the reason Irene had never abandoned her grandmother, despite how suffocating it must have been to live under her house. 

* * *

Wendy took a deep breath, smelling in the black leather of her own car. Expensive and unfamiliar. 

"You'll be alright," Irene said, putting her hand on hers. "You must want to see them too after such a long time."

Wendy smiled. She was glad Irene was there, not like Irene insisted on going. Wendy was the one who asked, pleaded for Irene to come along.

I can't do this without you.

I-I don't think I should come along. It's meeting your family and all! And your mother  doesn’t know about us!

I met your grandmother, without much warning. She knew and came to hunt me down. At least you've got a heads up.

But—

Please? Pretty, pretty please?

Okay.

Outside, the trees had started to wither, their leaves a mixture of the colours of orange and yellow. Some had already littered the streets, scattered themselves like confetti thrown after a concert. The breeze was chilly but the sun was out and bright and it warmed them up a little.

Up the street was Wendy's house. It was neither small nor huge like a mansion, but something humble — something thalt didn't reflect that the owner was in fact, the mother of a chaebol in the making. It was a bungalow with a roof that was painted red which contrasted nicely the walls that were painted with somewhat like an off-white colour. There was a small black, rustic gate that greeted visitors, which connected to low brick walls that boarded the house, separating it from the outside. Despite this though, the house beckoned, carrying with it this friendly gesture. It was inviting and welcoming. It strangely reminded Irene of Wendy.

Upon reaching the gates, a small dog barked in a frenzy, running up to the gate, to what seemed to him, strangers trying to trespass his and his family's abode. It took Irene by suprise and she clutched Wendy's arm, hiding behind her, afraid that the dog would somehow pounce on her. Wendy laughed in return.

"It's just Lou. Our pet dog," Wendy explained.

Irene, eyes frantic, said, "You didn't tell me you had a dog!" She pulled on Wendy's coat and burrowed herself on Wendy's back, cowering like a kid that had been forcefully sent inside a haunted house.

She must be afraid of dogs, Wendy thought and as she realised this, she suppressed a giggle, finding the once tyrannic boss of hers, crumble upon the sight of a dog — a pug, really — unimaginable.

"Don't worry, he doesn't bite."

Yeri came out then, hearing the ruckus the little pug was making. She looked like she just woke up from a nap, scratching her neck as she opened the front door. It took her  a moment to realise what was going on nor recognise who the people were outside her house. She yawned first before the whole thing dawned on her: Her sister was home and she made out, somehow, that the figure hiding behind her sister must be none other than her sister's first crush and her ex-boss, Ms. Bae.

* * *

Irene gulped, feeling sweat form on her eyebrows as a pair of eyes continuously inspected her up and down. This must be what goldfishes felt like when little kids go up to the aquarium and observe them with such curiosity and awe. What an uncomfortable feeling it was. 

After several moments, Wendy's little sister spoke. "Ohhh, no wonder my sister liked you. You're really pretty."

Irene flushed. She thought her cheeks must have gone red. Though she had heard many people call her pretty, it was weird hearing it from Wendy's little sister. She found herself speechless.

Yeri continued, "I thought you guys have broken up? What brings you here with her then? Who'd have thought my sister was a heartbreaker, eh? She must have been crazy to have broken up with you! If it was me, I wouldn't have! You're such a catch."

Irene coughed, perplexed by the forwardness of Wendy's little sister. She realised that both siblings had that same quality of being overtalkative than necessary. 

Before she could answer, Yeri continued further, but was speaking more to herself, really, than to Irene. "Well, they're both here. Together, for that matter. That must mean they're back together. Why had then they both come here?" As if a lightbulb had switched itself on inside her head, she looked at Irene, eyes glinting, as if the light from the lightbulb itself could be seen through them. "Marriage!"

Irene stood up. Her eyes opened wide and felt like they were going to bulge out of their sockets. "EHHHH?"

Yeri stood up. She was excited alright. She took Irene's hands, with much eagerness and glee, and shook them up and down. As if that wasn't enough, she embraced Irene in a tight hug, squeezing the life out of her. "I would love to be your sister-in-law!"

Irene's face contorted into something of panic and bewilderment. This kid is crazy! Marriage? Not that Irene hadn't thought about it. She had. Once. It was before she and Wendy had broken up. When she and Wendy were walking back to her place after getting some groceries, Irene had thought about it. She thought, as she held Wendy's hand on their way home together, as she felt her warmth on her palm, that there had nothing been so simple yet so satisfying than that moment. Of going home after getting a loaf of bread, a litre of milk, and a tray of eggs from the store around the corner. A deed done by many as part of their routines. Something so placid, banal as that, yet to Irene felt so gratifying. A chore so simple that it reminded Irene her life could be simple as well yet not really being simple because it didn't feel simple. It didn't feel boring. And she realised it was because of the hand she was holding, of the person who she was with, of the swelling happiness she felt within her chest. This was it. She could spend the rest of her life just like this. Simple but not simple, being w