IX

It shouldn’t be hard for Wendy to ignore Irene. It’s not supposed to be. And yet, it is – she needed to grit her teeth and clench her fists in order to move past the lobby. She honestly doesn’t know how to face Irene from now on. Last night’s events had left her bruised, battered – tired mostly. She thinks about smiles and bracelets and moons and really, she needs to be thinking about the board meeting that’s happening in five minutes.

Nothing actually helps her to focus and the lift doors very quickly slide open. For such an important event, her heart should be pounding and she should be anxious. Instead, her thoughts are focused on Irene and she’s really more upset than nervous. She wants to get this board meeting over and done with.

Her heels click against the tiled floor as she makes her way to the meeting room. She steels herself and makes sure she masks all emotion before entering the room, greeting all of the board members. Her father is sitting between two board members. She nods an acknowledgement and he nods back.

Everything has been set up beforehand and she breezes through the whole presentation. The board members look impressed by her professionalism and give a few nods. At this, she smiles confidently, knowing the board has made up their mind to put their trust in her. Even so, her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

The members filter out of the room slowly, congratulating Wendy on her new post. She shakes each of their hands with sincerity, truly thankful for the support and trust they give to the hotel. Soon, she is left alone with her father. Her father clears his throat, starting to speak.

“You weren’t late this time. Now I can finally rest.”

Wendy eyes her father warily. He has never sung praises and she wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t mean it. His eyes are fixated on his hands and he fiddles with a ring on his fourth finger, like he’s not used to the metal band squeezing his finger.

“Thank you for entrusting me with the hotel, Mr Son,” Wendy nods.

“Wendy, I-”

Her father pauses, mid-speech. He looks up at Wendy and his expression hits her like an oncoming freight train. He looks old – jaded. The crowfeet lining the corner of his eyes and the wrinkle lines that seem to have sunken into his skin – it all makes him look so aged. There’s a certain dullness to his eyes that Wendy has never seen before.

His drooping shoulders square his frame inwards and he looks smaller than ever. Wendy is taken to a time where her father had broad, strong shoulders that she used to sit on all the time. She can almost hear a feminine laughter that reminded her of cherry blossoms in spring. Another laughter accompanied it – this one more innocent and youthful. And finally, a loud booming voice that reminded her of thunder and yet at the same time, reminded her of lawn yards, swings, and

Home.

Yes, home.

Wendy blinks, snapping back to reality. Her vision starts to blur a little and she can feel herself trembling slightly. She turns away from her father sharply, feeling her lungs strain for air even though she’s gasping.

She barely manages to choke out, “I have to go. Goodbye, Mr Son.”

Her voice is shaking and she’s doing everything she can to keep those tears at bay. Her father doesn’t stop her. She leaves the room quietly, the door closing with a click that seemed all too final.

It bothers her too much.

///

Irene types furiously on her laptop, burying herself in work, trying not to think of anything else. Work manages to distract her a little, for her thoughts are filled with organizing her senior team members’ business arrangements rather than a certain someone. It works for now, but Irene knows that when her shift is over and she’ll have to take the public transport back home, her thoughts will only be occupied by one person. She knows that when she reaches home, it’ll be with a heavy heart because her house will suddenly be too big for one.

Funny how ‘stay as long as you like’ can become ‘you’re not welcome anymore’.   

Seulgi stands up, stopping her administrative work momentarily. She turns to look at Irene, eyes wide and brows pulled down into a frown.

“So you actually knew Wendy– I mean, Ms Son was the new CEO? Are you serious, Baechu?”

Seulgi has been going out of her mind since Wendy entered the hotel that morning. She cannot believe Irene knew it all along and chose not to tell her.

“I wasn’t even allowed to tell anyone, Seulgi, let alone you. Now will you please sit down? You’re giving me a headache,” Irene complains, rubbing her temples gently.

Irene honestly doesn’t need this – thinking about Wendy so frequently is unhealthy. She just wants to switch topics. They can talk about anything except Wendy.

She looks up from her laptop, taking a look at the scenery outside. Fallen leaves are scattered along the entrance of the hotel. There’s a cleaner outside sweeping away the orange-red leaves. The weather has already turned a little colder. Tha