Door creaking and keys chain clanking, both indicated Kris present at the front door.

“Let’s go to visit Jessica,” she suggested at soon as he stepped in the house.

Kris looked up, seemingly tired, drowning and perhaps sick. He was unwell and he knew it. 

In fact, he had always considered her his priority.But how long could he hold on. His broad shoulders depressed, so were his heavy footsteps and his worn out face.

Step and step as he walked closer to the sound of her voice, a fragile-subtle unmistakable aroma of fresh warm tulips reached his nose. She sat there next to the tulips vase, eyes fixed on them. Seeing her caring for each innocence tulip, his heart sank and his eyes became watery.

She broke him- much more than she ever realized. He was not complaining, not then, not now or in the far future. It was the prize that he was more than willing to pay- for loving her.

It was when he started sniffing that when she looked up from the flowers, and she realized that he was crying.

Concern and in the midst of her surprisement, she opened mouth, but he came fast, cutting in.

“Let’s go to the psychologist?” his desperate voice were barely above a whisper, but his words were as loud if if he had shouted 2 inches from her ears. She heard every syllable and every word, she heard his sigh, his pain. “You have been pushing it off and you’re not taking your pills like you’re supposed to. It's unhealthy.”

He had known the first word that would come out from her lips. It always was-

“Sojung bought an extra bundle of tulips- the flower that Jessica like best, so I was wondering if we could visit Jessica’s grave.” She sounded like a child, changing the subject and smiling like an angel.

Her words placed him on the horns of a dilemma. He wanted to protest. He wanted to protest badly. To scream, to yell, to cry out. There was a reason for his sadness and why he could tell her in words.   

“Alright.” He swallowed his tears. “The truth has to come out sooner or later” the voice of her psychologist echoed in his mind, “sooner or later she will have to face it. It’s -” he said in a rough tone, “inevitable.”  

 

It wasn’t that far from her house, the cemetery. It was more or less a half hour long. She wondered and wondered why she hasn’t visited Jessica’s grave more often.

He hadn’t say a word. A variation of situations-undesirable situations elaborated in his head. He was afraid of  showing her the reality. And voices in his mind screamed all shouted of things.

It is not late. Make a U-turn. You don’t have to do this.

No. this is the right thing to do. I’m sorry.

He pulled over in the parking lot.  Mile and mile of graves and graves, of rest in peace distributed evenly in an organized manner in from of their eyes.

“Sojung will go first-” excitedly she unbuckled her seatbelt.

“Wait!” Kris yelled after, unfortunately with the lively-colorful tulips bundle in her hands, she was far away from his grasp, his shield.  

Taking out the car key, Kris unbuckled and waited no second to slam the car door after himself.

Minutes later he arrived feet before her, before the grave. Tulip flowers laid lifelessly against the moist dirt, dirtying, staining them brown.

“Jessica?” Kris questioned.

“J-jessica?” she stuttered. Her head shook unacceptingly, her confused voice begged for answers, “why it’s written on the grave ‘Jung Sojung’ where is Jessica?”

“Sojung’s here. I'm Sojung.” Tears came uncontrollably down.

“I-don’t understand.” Tears pained her heart.

“I’m alive- why?” And tears choked her each and every word.

Her knees dropped to the ground.

Her small hands touched the bolded, metal name written permanently on the stone. She wiped them once, perhaps her eyes were playing tricks on her. She effortedly wiped them twice, “Perhaps- perhaps they miswrote the name.” She violently wiped the name for the third time. And when those words didn’t come off, she thought she must have been dreaming.

That was when Kris warm hand pat her shoulder. He trapped her with his embrace. She struggled to break free. She felt suffocated, hot, angry, mad, confused, hated.

She hit him. She beated his chests, or at least tried to.

He always had been the persistent one.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Kris comforted, “things happened.”

And the whole time he was hugging her, she asked “why” over and over again. Her tears wet his shoulder and her constant beating fist bruised his chests.

“Jessica,” he called her name, her real name.
“Jessica, it’s okay.” He sobbed.

 

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Plot twisted. I hope its not too confusing. :)

Happy reading.