D+144

EUNBI

After her long week at the office, Eunbi was sure she needed a break. She did wonder how she was supposed to destress on Weekends. Eunbi can’t remember, quite literally, what she could have done to unwind. Her options were limited now. A passing thought told her she could go out to a bar and meet people, but Eunbi quickly realized that was just her 20 something amnesiac brain talking. She’s not that person anymore. Eunbi was almost 40, and believe it or not, her body remembers it, because all she wanted to do was lie on the couch and watch TV as she cuddles with—

That was a problem. Wonyoung just got picked up by Chaeyeon for a week at the latter’s apartment. And Eunbi was now all alone.

Despite all the “freedom” that comes with a divorce, all Eunbi could remember now is what it was like to have a family. How good it was to have one. Her life post-accident may be different to what it was before, that much she knew, but it was also perfect. Eunbi can only reminisce about how it was like to spend time with her family; back when her teenage daughter didn’t hate her, back when the only remotely hurtful thing that Wonyoung did was tease Eunbi for her age. Back when Chaeyeon gave her infinite amounts of love and affection, at a time when Eunbi didn’t know that she was hiding the truth behind it.

Ignorance was bliss. And Eunbi wonders if it was an option to go back to it.

Eunbi had told Chaeyeon that she needed time to think. And Chaeyeon had obliged, given her all the space she needed, all the time she needed to process. For the last week or so, they did stop having , as per Eunbi’s request. The only exchanges they had were when they dropped off Wonyoung, and those through texts. Chaeyeon would message her here and there, mostly about Wonyoung, but also about random things; like Chaeyeon taking up gardening, or a new recipe Chaeyeon tried, or when Chaeyeon fell off a skateboard––And Eunbi had relentlessly about it––It almost felt like something friends would do. And it was both comforting as it was saddening. 

It was in lonely moments like this that her thoughts were most clear of what she wanted and what she didn’t. So it was in lonely moments like this that she realized she already had what she wanted—her family. That is, if she could even still call them that.

Then, as Eunbi was wallowing in her own loneliness, something unimaginable happened. Eunbi’s mother contacted her. 

It was an abrupt request to meet for dinner. Tonight. Eunbi had half a mind to just delete the message and pretend she never saw it. After all, this was the woman who disowned her after finding out about Eunbi’s uality. Not that she ever had a good relationship with her parents before her coming out anyway. For starters, they didn’t believe she would succeed in music, and all throughout her life, their love was always conditional. 

When Eunbi woke up at the hospital, she was worried she had no one in her life besides them. They were familiar, but were not a source of comfort. Though sometimes it still hurts, Eunbi was glad to know she had eventually cut off ties with her parents.

Eunbi asks herself, why would she ever want to see her mother again? But, what if it was important? And Eunbi realizes, waking up in the body of an almost 40-year-old woman didn’t exempt Eunbi from feeling the pain of when she was 20-something-year-old, it didn’t heal any of the scars that Eunbi still had because of her parents. Maybe this was the time she can find closure, and get rid of all that emotional baggage she’s been carrying around because of those lost memories.

Eunbi returns a short text agreeing to meet.

After making herself presentable, and psyching herself up for the meeting, Eunbi got herself an uber to the expensive restaurant her mother had booked. She doesn't trust herself to drive, likely because Eunbi knows she’ll consume all the alcohol on the table to get through the meeting, and be partially drunk by the end of it.

By the time Eunbi got to the restaurant, her heart was pounding so loudly she could hear it drumming in her ears. Eunbi has to take several deep breaths to steady herself. And if it weren’t for the waitress escorting her, Eunbi was sure she wouldn’t have made it to the table. Not only because of her instinct telling her to flee, but also because Eunbi almost couldn’t recognize the woman waiting for her. The many years which Eunbi couldn’t remember was only now confirmed through her mother’s aging face. 

Eunbi sits across from her and crosses her hands on her lap, willing them to stop shaking.

“Mother,” greets Eunbi curtly.

“So you still remember me?” her mother asks, her voice was quieter than Eunbi used to remember. But the veiled coldness somehow managed to stay the same. “I heard you lost your memories.”

“How’d you––” Eunbi starts to ask, but is effectively cut off. 

“People talk, and you…” Eunbi’s mother visibly plays with her hands on the table, the tense, awkwardness shared between them. The older woman took her time to find the right words, and Eunbi waited patiently. “You seem to have done well for yourself with making music. You’re quite successful, I hear.” 

To anyone else, it must have sounded insignificant, maybe even downright cold, but Eunbi knew that her mother’s words were basically a compliment. Especially when music was something her parents used to disapprove of. Heaven forbid, her mother almost sounds proud. “Thank you,” Eunbi says.

And just like that, the moment was over. Silence engulfed the two women, the air was tense once more. Fortunately there was a bottle of wine already opened on the table, and Eunbi wordlessly poured herself a glass. Eunbi had even considered filling her glass to the brim, knowing she would need it to deal with this awkwardness with her mother. But Eunbi figures her mother wouldn’t have appreciated that.

So Eunbi just drinks and pours more, then drinks again, until she was brave enough to ask, “Why did you want to see me?”

“I wanted to reconnect,” she says easily, which took Eunbi by surprise. “And I want to meet my granddaughter.”

Eunbi squints, her brows furrowing skeptically. “Why now?”

“As I’ve said, people talk,” answers her mother. Eunbi watches curiously as her mother sits back in her chair, looking somewhat pleased with herself, and Eunbi couldn’t have prepared herself for what her mother was about to say next. “I heard you’ve finally divorced Chaeyeon. Now that you’ve finally snapped out of your... questionable life choices, you know, it isn’t too late to get a father figure for your daughter.”

Her anger rose quickly. “How dare you?” Eunbi hisses through gritted teeth. Not even the shock from her mother’s words could contain her temper, but Eunbi at least manages to speak without raising her voice. “I don't need any help raising my daughter. She already has two mothers and that’s enough—And I might n