She was an alien.

Or some foreign being.

Hanna’s moon-shaped eyes were glued to her phone, her fingers quickly tap-tapping away.  She barely finished chopping the vegetables needed for dinner tonight, so preoccupied and distracted she was!  It made Amina wonder what was so important. Or rather… who was so important.  Who was it that occupied her older cousin’s mind?  Every once in awhile, she would catch Hanna smirking quietly to herself or wiggling her head back and forth.  It was amusing, to say the least.  It was as if her unnie had left and this bodily thing remained.

“Who are you talking to?” Amina asked, wiping down the countertop with a rag.

“Hmm?” mumbled Hanna, suddenly aware of her surroundings.  She looked down and noticed the chopping board and radish had been deftly put away.  When did that happen?  “No one,” she quickly asserted, powering off her phone.  She placed it on the counter and looked up.  “J-just work.” she blurted, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

“Work?”

“Neh,” Hanna gruffly replied.  The unconvinced look on Amina’s face rubbed her the wrong way.  She arched her brows and deliberately widened her eyes.  “You know, work.  The big tall building where we’ve been meeting everyday for the past two weeks discussing budgets and proposals.  You know, that work?”

Yes, she knew.  Work.  The place she had slowly gotten used to seeing without experiencing a ballooning anxious feeling every single time.  The place she spent so much time at lately that it was now becoming her second home.

Work.

The haughty tone amused Amina.  She had never seen her cousin act so defensive before.  “Is there anything I can help you with, unnie?” she innocently asked, feeling a sudden dire need to laugh.  She finished wiping down the kitchen island and headed towards the deep sink.

The polite inquiry made Hanna’s fire go out.  She stared mutely at Amina’s back, twisting her lips wryly.  “Ani,” Hanna gently declined.  She looked airily around her mother’s kitchen, seeking whatever logical explanation she could find.  “It’s just a new product line that’s sort of in the works.  Nothing concrete just yet.  We’re still discussing marketing and concept.”

“Ahh,” Amina murmured offhandedly.  She rinsed the cloth and hung it out to dry.  “Too trivial for me to understand?”  She started towards the dining room.

“Neh.  I-I mean…” Hanna flushed, meeting Amina’s mischief-filled eyes.  “It’s just talk.  Once we iron out a few details, I’ll bring you in.  But until then, it’s better if I just handle things right now.  Especially since you’re still playing catch up.”  Her phone vibrated loudly against the granite top.

Their gazes both flew towards the illuminated screen.

Hanna quickly flipped her phone over onto its face.

A smile tugged on Amina’s lips.  “Well, I’m really glad for all of your help, unnie.  I don’t know what I would do without you.”  She paused dramatically, her gaze still coyly directed at Hanna’s phone.  “Please tell Jiyong oppa I said ‘hello’.”  Amina grinned as she made her way out.

“It’s not-“

“Hanna-sshi!” 

Hanna’s mother swept in, looking harried and put out.  “Your appa will be home for dinner any moment now.  If you’re done talking to your boyfriend, would you please go help Mimi set the table?”  She headed straight for the fridge in search of more spinach. 

“Umma!” Hanna wailed.

Amina’s laughter filled the air.

“Seriously, your cousin is pregnant.  Or did you forget that?” She clucked underneath her breath as she shut the fridge.

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

Mrs. Eun threw a skeptical look over her shoulder.

“He’s not!”

The sound of silverware grated on porcelain dish.

Amina quietly chewed her food, barely acknowledging the low rumbles of her uncle’s voice as he carried on about some problem at the office.  Something about a permit being delayed and causing a tight schedule to be behind.  She wasn’t really sure of all the details. Guilty of listening with only half an ear, her mind was preoccupied tonight with only thoughts of him.  Him… who she hadn’t seen or spoken to since the night of their ice-cream social.

She missed him.

Like every night, she wondered what he was doing.  Had he eaten?  Did he rest?  When was the last time he slept?  He was just a phone call away and yet she hesitated to inconvenience him this late in the hour.  He was probably in practice or at dinner with his friends.  Maybe getting ready for a show.  She didn’t know.  She had forced herself to stop checking his schedule at work.

She mentally sighed.

At times she questioned why she was doing this to herself.  Why she was torturing them both by maintaining such distance. 

Again.

It was like déjà vu, she knew.  She had asked for a break last summer when things became rough in New York.  Too ashamed to come back home, she thought she was helping them both by staying.  She toughed it out to prove her parents wrong.  She sacrificed their love to save him from the guilt.  But in the end, it was her pride that caused them pain.

And here she was again. 

Only now, it wasn’t the sound of reproach in her parent’s voice that held her back.  Instead, it was her own self lingering doubts.  Doubts about their relationship and about herself.  She had weeks now to reflect and this much she knew as true – she missed him.  Missed his company.  Missed seeing his face.  But she was still afraid.  Like a wounded doe, she was frightened and uncertain.  She wanted to let go of the past – knew she could let go of what had happened.  But she was still scared of their future.  Scared of the other Naras and the long, lonely, stretches of breaks in between.  Love was supposed to build you up… make you whole.  But all she felt was more vulnerable and insecure.  She didn’t know if she was strong enough for this type of relationship.

She didn’t know if she would ever be.

“How is your husband doing?”

Amina blinked several times, clearing away her despondent thoughts.  She forcefully brightened her eyes and gave her uncle a small smile.  “He’s doing well,” she nodded.  “He’s been busy lately.  With his and the group’s new album and all the promotional work going on right now.  But he’s doing well.”

“That’s good,” Hyun-Shik replied.  “Next time you come over, I expect him to come with you.”

“Neh,” Amina nodded once more.  “The next time Youngbae-sshi has a break, we’ll come over again.”

It had been awhile since she had last been over to Hanna’s parents' place – the last time being with Youngbae.  And she would’ve probably made some excuse to skip dinner with them altogether tonight had she not felt so guilty about not visiting often.  She just wanted to go home… to be close to Youngbae as possible.  Where she could run her fingers through his shirts and touch his CDs or rearrange his shoes.  Maybe if she was feeling really adventurous, she would bring out all of his One Piece, Kaws, and Snoopy figurines from off the shelf and line them all in a row.  She could then spend all night dusting them and talking to them… like a crazy, old, senile woman.

“And where is he right now?”  Hanna’s father picked up the serving spoon from the communal dish and began scooping more meat onto his plate.

Blood rushed to Amina’s cheeks, her heart frozen in panic.  “I-I believe they’re on a fan meet at the moment.”  Her mind traced back to the last schedule she could recall.  “In Kobe.”

“Singapore,” Hanna corrected, her brows slightly furrowed.

“Neh, Singapore,” Amina swiftly replied.  She could feel Hanna’s hawk-like eyes on her but refused to acknowledge the questioning gaze.  Instead, she directed her response to the head of the table.  “I meant Singapore.”  She her lips nervously.  “But he should be back in a few days.  We have the sonogram visit.  Maybe we will stop by afterwards.”

“Oh, the sonogram!” exclaimed Hanna’s mother.  Her eyes grew soft and her smile warmed.  “It will be so exciting to see how the baby has progressed.  Are you planning on finding out the gender?”

Did they plan on finding out the gender?  She didn’t know.  It was something they had never discussed.  They were content with calling the baby a girl this entire time.  She didn’t know if it would matter.  “I’m not entirely sure, yet,” Amina cautiously answered.  She picked up her glass of water.

“It’ll be great if you find out,” Hanna murmured, her eyes set on the last kimbap.  Using her chopsticks, she plucked the round morsel and placed it onto her plate.  “That way I can start on the design for the gold bracelet I have in mind.”

“Don’t design anything!” Hanna’s mother chastised.  “It is bad luck to count your chickens before they hatch.”  She looked patiently at Amina.  “We can always design later… after the baby is born.”

“Umma, that was back in your days.  There have been technology and medical advancements since then that will ensure the baby will survive,” Hanna stressed.  “Besides…”  She looked Amina straight in the eyes.  “I’m sure Mimi is doing everything in her power to make sure there will be a healthy baby upon delivery.  Neh?”

Amina swallowed the liquid in and gently placed the glass back on the table.  “Neh,” she reassured.  “I’ve been trying to eat as healthy as possible.  And I try to exercise as much as I can.”

“Any pain so far?”

“Some round ligament pain,” Amina answered her aunt.  “Mainly on the right side of my body.  It hurts more when I’ve been walking a lot, but it’s still bearable.”

“Then stop walking,” Hanna drawled, casting the younger girl a superior look.  “I told you I’d take you to and from work.  There’s no need for you to take…” she grimaced, “…the bus.”

Hanna’s father looked up from his plate.

Light danced in Amina’s eyes.  “I’m pregnant.  Not invalid.  I can walk just fine and I know my limits.”  She looked over at her aunt’s concerned face.  “I need the exercise to stay fit and strong for when the baby arrives.  I want it to be an easy labor.”

Hanna’s mother quietly nodded in understanding but the worry in her eyes remained.  “I just want you to be careful.  Your mother had a difficult delivery-“

“I know.”  Amina gave her a small smile.  “And it’s exactly why I want to keep moving as much as possible.  Umma stayed in bed all day when she was pregnant with me.  I’m sure if she exercised and got fresh air… my delivery would’ve been just fine.”

“She was scared,” Hanna’s mother interjected.  The light dimmed in her eyes as memories rushed forth.  “She was scared she was going to lose you… like she lost all the others.”

Amina compressed her lips into a thin line.  “I’m not going to lose my baby,” she said with quiet determination.  She looked around the table, finding her family’s concerned gaze on her.  “I’ll be fine,” she reassured them once more.

Her statement hung in the air.

Quietness settled over the room.

Hyun-Shik cleared his throat.

“Hanna,” he directed.  “Have you gathered what you need for the press conference?  It has to happen in the upcoming weeks.”

Hanna grumbled as she chewed, scrunching her nose up unbecomingly.  “I know, appa.”  She swallowed then stared morosely at Amina, who sat directly across from her at the table.  “I’m prepping Mimi as fast as I can.  It’s up to her to save the world.”

Amina smiled.  “Gomawo, Hanna-sshi.”

“And how about the interim chief position?” continued Hyun-Shik.  He piled the last of his rice into the center of his plate and transferred it onto his spoon.  “Any new applicants for the Board?”

“I have one,” declared Hanna.  “I think they’re going to like him.”

He quirked his eyebrow.

“Actually, I’m having him fly in next week to go over the position.”

“Someone we know?”

Her eyes twinkled.  “Maybe,” Hanna slyly replied.  She picked u