“I think we need a private detective or something. His confessing like that makes it seem unlikely he was the one who messed with the car, but then again, maybe he’s a compulsive liar.” Greta sits close and whispers, even though our cab driver doesn't know what we are talking about. He’s not an OLO driver, as we booked this ourselves.
I came home in shock last night and recited everything to Greta after that insane encounter with Jyeon, and yet my mind is no more untangled than it was. Our kiss ended, and we didn’t talk much when he drove me home. What could I say…? what could he do? He confessed love to a woman who is oblivious to him as a man, person, and memory. He couldn’t ask me to reciprocate, given I don’t know him, and only apologized for springing it on me and acting like a jealous lover. I’ve had a headache ever since, and now this.
“I don’t want to think about it today. Just focus on this stupid appointment at this damn company. I don’t even know why Bryant wanted me to come for this. He could have come to the apartment for this legal consult over my inheritance and my reversal of death, assuming that’s what this is.” I sulk as we pull up in front of the very familiar OLO building and exhale heavily. I have mixed feelings about being here; this all feels so heavy and exhausting today.
Eyeing it up and down, Greta’s eyes nearly fall out of her face as she takes in the seventy-floor skyscraper with the giant logo hanging halfway up it. I don’t blame her for almost swallowing her own tongue at seeing it for the first time. It was always an impressive part of the skyline for as long as I can remember.
“Yahh…. That’s a building, all right…….. How will they explain publicly replacing your body and offing you as heiress of OLO, then marching you in there two years later? That has to have a few hundred employees, right?” Greta keeps blinking at it as I pay the fare and get out with her close on my heels. Pulling inside my head and turning a tad older Sohla in mood. Forcing calm and pulling my chin up to face this head one. Do it quickly, like ripping off tape.
“I guess we'll find out. We pull it out and confront them with it, seeing as it was public. Anything we want answers for, I guess today’s the day.” I regret the whole amnesia pitch when it comes to this bullshit, as there are so many things I have churning inside. I spent this morning saving articles about my death and public life to throw in front of them should I need fuel to get answers.
Jyeon has me fired up and confused. No surer about the point of all this or his motives. And now Bryant is marching me over here to show me off to the world.
“Come on, let me introduce you to where I spent all my adult life. The place which ruined me.” Wasting no time in crossing the wide concrete area where I once stood up to protesters, shoving that memory aside, and making my way into the glass-fronted, wide doors manned by staff. I lead the way and hook my arm in hers.
The first security guard does a double-take and gawps at me with wide eyes as we walk through the revolving door, and the sudden crash and smash of crockery has both of us snap up to look left at where it came from. Two female employees seem to have dropped coffee mugs, making a huge mess and are staring at me with white complexions as though they have just seen a ghost. They both take a second too long to react to the hazard they made.
“So…. don’t think they announced it yet. Or prewarned staff that they might get a shock.” Greta chuckles at the stupid reactions as more people look my way, and one employee walks into a pillar because they’re not looking where they’re going. It would be funny if it weren’t because of me. I hate the attention it’s drawing, and I recoil inside, no longer that woman who used to love the admiring stares of my staff. Or their fear at my presence.
“I can’t even act like I know where I’m going. This is so frustrating.” I put my head down to hide my face and push Greta in front of me towards the main desk. The receptionists are fumbling, nervous, and seemingly aware of why I’m here. That’s at least something.
“Mrs. Park, ummmm…. Vice….uh. Mr. Grey is waiting on you at the forty-fifth-floor elevator, ma’am. You’ve to go right up.” She nods towards the bank of elevators, and I smile shyly and tug Greta with me, using her as a human shield.
Forty-fifth is the floor for the meeting halls. Boardroom, some executive offices, and the research and development department that dealt with Biochem. We used it as a neutral meeting point for those outside the company. I am guessing Bryant now sits with the legal team in this building and uses that floor for appointments.
“This is awkward.” I sigh in relief when we get an empty elevator quickly and push inside, the doors closing fast, and I can heave a sigh of relief at escaping that spectacle. My pulse is racing, and I’m mildly sweating from the stress of this place already. This is weirder than I thought it would be, and even after all this time, I’ve forgotten nothing about this building. It feels like a stuffy and suffocating glass box.
“That’s ……strange.” Greta points up at the wall, and I glance past her to see the old senior employee roster is still in use. Directors, managers, VP, and President are on there with faces, names, and titles. And right up next to Jyeon….my face still sits. They never took it down. I don’t know what to think of that as his words about never giving up on me flash through my mind. From that night in the diner, I shake it away.
“Probably a sign of respect or to make him look less heartless about removing me.” I shrug it off, and we depart on the forty-fifth floor, met immediately with a smiling and good old Bryant in a grey tailored suit, looking handsome and mature. Greta rolls her eyes and walks past him without a greeting.
“Welcome, Sohla. Miss Tarry. Always a pleasure. He turns and nods after her, and I smile his way with a polite nod and walk out to follow him.
“Why here?” I ask pushily and linger behind him as he shows us the way. “This building, I mean.” Taking in the unchanged décor and the same old ambiance that always was.
“We have some minor things to sign off on and the matter of agreement to a DNA test to satisfy the board of directors. I’m a busy man, and this was easier for me. It’s a nothing thing, and we have a nurse coming to do it. It takes a minute. I didn’t think you’d want your apartment invaded.”
He points along at the board room for a goal to head towards, where I half expected him to take us, and he moves ahead to be the one to open the doors. Being the gentleman he never used to be when we were kids. Bryant seems to have matured a lot these past two years.
Greta follows him at speed, and I wander behind, looking around to take in this floor and reminisce about being back here, feeling odd. My eyes cast around of their own accord to land on random things when a pair of figures along the corridor catches my attention, and I do a double-take as my head jerks up. Realizing I recognize them.
Jyeon is talking to a woman in a black pantsuit and high heels. In the style I used to wear, red shoulder-length hair is a little close and intimate in a posture that suggests she knows him well or is flirting. I strain to focus, shocked by that feeling of DeJa’Vu, and as she turns this way lightly, the breath catches in my lungs. It’s undeniably Claire White.
My heart somersaults into my throat, and I almost walk into the back of Bryant because I am too busy staring and thump my hand against the door as I dodge him last minute.
“Ouch,” I yelp and look at the stupid frame, rubbing my hand. I glance back again, but they have walked into the nearest office, and I can’t see them anymore. Straining and trying to see where they went, I am urged to walk over there. Suddenly tetchy and strung out, my head no longer on meetings.
I can’t believe what I saw, and his words about cutting her off and not seeing her anymore swim in my head. I feel so stupid. She would only be here because of him, and she didn’t look like a guest. They walked into the R&D department as though it was perfectly natural for her to be there. It’s just another lie, another ruse, to mess me up and lead me by the nose. I guess a kiss and a love confession were also bullshit.
I move on autopilot into the board room and zone out of the conversation between Greta, Bryant, and the hovering secretary. All kinds of horrid stomach-churning and anxiety-inducing emotions are wracking me, and I genuinely feel like I might vomit. My brain homed in on what I just saw and dissecting it. I wonder if this is one big lie and manipulation, yet I cannot figure it out. Does he want OLO so badly that he’s willing to shackle himself to me again, in fake love, for the benefits I brought it?
It's déjà vu, being back here with this in my mind while sitting in the same room where I once outed his meeting with her. Where I missed half a review meeting while lost in thought about seeing them together. It feels like a mirror to the past, and I hate how much it’s fucking me up just like it did back then. Unable to think of what we’re doing and fully focused on how much this hurts. Two years, and it feels exactly the same as the first time he betrayed me with her.
The asshole kissed me and told me he loved me. Everything I longed for back then. For what reason? He told me she was not part of his life, yet here she was, all cozy with him in the hall of his own building, and I stupidly fell for it. All over again. I’m right back to two years ago, and I’m seething mad. Not just at him but at myself for still holding feelings of love in my heart and being this fucking dumb about letting him back in.
“Sohla?” Bryant pulls me out of my head, bringing my attention to the fact he’s sitting facing me across the table we’re seated at, and Greta is frowning my way.
“What?” I snap in response, not caring about being polite when I’m this worked up. I can’t conceal my agitation.
“I said,… do you want a drink or food? Anything before we start?” he eyes me up with a blatant show of concern. Frowning at my change in mood.
“No… just get on with it. I have a headache and want to leave.” I sit back and cross my arms, feeling how Greta is trying to read me and gauge the change in my attitude of under three minutes while I’m on the verge of rage tears.
“Right, I’m here.” Jyeon walks in, seeming innocent, charming, and flashy in a perfectly cut three-piece black suit over a black shirt, and tie in a tonal look that makes him appear expensive and pulled together. And I inwardly hiss. Hating on him.
Loving the matching black couples’ outfits of the day.
Not.
“So, we have to get your assets released as the first port of call. As they were put on a freeze while you’re a missing person, and they can be reinstated once your DA test comes back positive.” Bryant is explaining, yet I’m staring at Jyeon as he walks around and sits beside him like a despicable monster. Angry at how low he can go as a human. Frowning and inwardly murmuring a hundred curse words.
“Well, can you explain why she’s dead in the first place?” Greta cuts in, seeing that I’m somewhat distracted, and hauls her cell phone from her pocket to pull up a news article from two years ago declaring such. We agreed I needed answers as it was the catalyst to my never returning.
Jyeon frowns at it, seemingly not shocked at this coming up, and nods.
“Because we had to. My mother and brother were in a state of limbo, unable to function, and OLO was suffering. Stocks, shares, everything was unraveling around me. We fabricated a truth for the good of everyone, giving my family closure so they would put you to rest and move on, and the stocks would level up again. Meanwhile, we made the searches low-key and kept them off the radar. We never followed it through. The chief of police was well aware that there was no body and my reason for asking for it. He’s a good friend. You’ve been a missing person for two full years and are not officially dead. This is not about returning you from the deceased; it’s about taking you from the missing list, Sohla.”
He says it without skipping a beat. Like a rehearsed speech, should anyone ever ask, I don’t even know whether to believe it. All I can see is him and her looking cozy in the hallway, and I want to ask him why his girlfriend is in this building.
“So, you didn’t inherit everything that was mine after all? My death didn’t benefit you in any way?” I snort out, hostility oozing from every pore and hating him much more.
“No. Jyeon didn’t inherit a thing. He had your assets frozen and your shares protected. He continued to pay your profits into an account he kept all these years. Sohla, trust me…. Jyeon has done everything to keep your place here, hoping he would find you again one day. He didn’t even appoint a new VP in place of you. Your office has been sealed off for years. Yoonha acts as a temporary second in command.” Bryant seems unable to fathom my apparent anger and upset. Yet none of it means anything, and it falls like empty words on deaf ears. I literally can’t hold it in any longer. My jealousy, hatred, and all that pent-up heartbreak bubble inside me. I don’t care if they explained the news announcement back then or that I am still a rich bitch. I only care about what I saw.
“Who was the girl in the hallway, Jyeon?” Tears prick my eyes, and my voice wavers as it falls out of its own accord. I feel I’m having chest pain, as I say it. No longer the ice-cold queen who would keep everything inside. “I saw a girl… and I knew her face. She’s someone from my memories….” I clutch my heart as the pain intensifies and struggle to stay calm. Reminding myself not to blow this cover. Feeling Greta’s worried glances my way.
“It’s her, isn’t it? The woman you threw me away for? The one you told me about. That’s why it feels like this…. that’s why when I saw her, I wanted to throw up.” A tear rolls down my cheek, and Greta spins her head my way and gawps at me in shock. It’s totally unscripted. Unsure if I’m acting or if this is an actual mental breakdown. She reaches out to touch me, but I shoot up, pushing my chair back so fast it topples over behind me.
“Sohla… I…” Jyeon seems flustered and hesitates. It’s like the walls are coming in at me, and these anxious and suffocating feelings that have been building since I got here escalate to terrifying levels. Suddenly unable to stand the claustrophobic effect of this room. It’s so hot my body flushes between sickly fever and ice, and my head throbs with the effort of trying to stay in control. My lungs crushed in on themselves.
“I can’t breathe. I’m leaving.” I feel like the room is caving in on me, and I’m having a delayed panic attack as my entire life rolls into my head to torture me all over again. Repressed pain and emotions, all rushing back at me. That overwhelm threatens to choke me. It’s like being caught back in time, experiencing it all over again, and having him mess with my head these past few days, only to slap her in my face once more. He has no concept of how deeply these scars run. How much he broke me when he tossed me aside so coldly for that whore.
“Sohla, wait... Sohla.” Jyeon follows me as I dart out of the room, waving Greta away not to follow me because I need to cool down and get a grip, but he catches me first. Jyeon hooks my arm from behind, a hand easily encircling my upper arm and attempting to maneuver me with him.
“Don’t.” I croak, the tears battling out and I can’t get a hold of myself.
“I’m not letting you leave. Come with me.” He pulls me with him with a slight force so I can’t argue, across the hall to another room and hauls me in the door without letting go. An empty smaller board room where he kicks the door closed behind us.
“I’m leaving. I don’t feel well. Stop it. I’m dizzy.” I try to pry his arm off, but he holds tighter, tugs me to the nearest chair, and forcibly sits me down. My body is so heavy, and I’m drained to the point of exhaustion from trying hard to fight it. I close my eyes to block him out. My body is too weak for this, as it’s knocked the life out of me. Spiraling crazily.
“Are you okay? Do you want some water?” He’s avoiding the questions, avoiding the accusations, and I push him away. Both hands used as balled fists to hit him in the shoulders, so he gets the message to leave me alone.
“I saw her…. I know who she is. I might forget some things but not the face of the bitch who ruined my life. How this feels. Don’t ignore me… tell me the truth. It’s her, isn’t it?” I keep my eyes screwed shut and flinch as warm fingertips touch the tears which escape my eyes and roll down my cheek. His unexpected tender touch rips me in two, and I pull away.
I can’t hold it in. Letting them loose and nursing the broken heart that was never healed but pushed down far into my soul until he pulled back out of me again.
“Let me explain. I know how it looks… I didn’t honestly think you would know who she was. I’m sorry, Sohla. I wouldn’t have let you see her like this if I thought it would be this way. You being like this over her is killing me.” Jyeon’s voice is strained and low like he’s trying to keep calm. Mr in control, and yet there’s a definite tense undertone.
“Why are you always sorry? Why are you doing this to me? Do you hear yourself right now?... Just sign the divorce papers, run off with your girl, and stop making my life this hard. I don’t want anything from you; this should be enough to see why. I don’t need memories to know you’ve hurt me to the point where divorce is the only option.” I move to get up, but he catches me by the waist and sits me back down. Thudding my ass on the plastic chair and caging me in.
“It’s not what you think. There’s nothing between us. I swear, Sohla…. Baby, please. She works for Biochem and liaises between our company and theirs in the R&D department… I couldn’t exactly fire her for something I did wrong. This is all on me. Give me a chance, please.” His tone is pleading, and he seems to be genuinely panicking. Calling me baby is like a stab wound to my chest, and I laugh at the use of something so alien for him where I’m concerned. I was never his baby, not once. He must be confusing me for her.
“I don’t care. I’m leaving. Please let go. We’re nothing, and you have no reason to explain…. Sign the papers and be done with this agony. Stop dragging it out, and let me go back to my life.” I move to shove him off again, but he still hasn’t let go from the first attempt and tightens his grip to keep me in place. Seemingly not convinced by my tearful show of extreme upset that what I’m saying is what I mean.
“Do you want me to have her tell you herself? Two years ago, I ended things but let her keep her job. I’ll get her right now. I’ll do whatever you need.” Jyeon’s eyes are on my face, and I can feel them searching me for a reaction as I turn away and focus my eyes on the far wall. Sniffing back my tears and hating that he’s doing this.
Acting like someone who cares what I feel or think …the way he should have been as a husband the first time I ever raised concerns about that woman. Giving me something that would have meant so much more back then. He’s two years too late.
“It’s none of my business what you do or who you do it with. Please, I asked you to let me go. You’re upsetting me.” It seems to affect him that he’s making me cry, making it worse, and he releases me from his hold and stands up to tower over me instead. Exhaling heavily yet doesn’t give me space.
“You were gone… I didn’t see a reason to send her away. She’s good at her job. She tries to maintain a friendship but nothing else. There’s nothing there because she knows how hung up on you I’ve been these past two years. I was a mess, Sohla. Ask anyone. I slept in your office, drunk every day for two months, holding onto your picture and letting OLO fall apart. I cared about nothing except the fact I needed to find you. I spent a fortune in search parties for a full year and never stopped trying until they had nothing left to search. I couldn’t accept that you were dead. I didn’t want that to be my reality because you are a part of me that I can’t let go of.”
“Then why were the brakes cut and the steering messed up? Why did you leave your keys for me to take when the car was a death trap, and the only outcome would be my death? Why did you goad me into taking the car and tell me you never wanted to see me again ….? You pushed me down that path.” I know it’s a close admission to remembering, but it’s also not. I could argue that I have that memory of the car not working and remembering the moments before my death. That the news said, I took my husband’s car. He already accepted that fragment of Tia and the remembering Claire as natural; I don’t think he’ll blink at this.
It doesn’t matter anyway because I have to know, with all of this, and this bullshit confession, that he did this to me. I’m sick of it circling inside my brain. Two years of this have kept me hiding my identity and living another life.
“What? What are you talking about? The car was fine…you…?” Jyeon seems confused, staring at me like I have two heads, and squats back down to lift my hands in his. Enveloping them tightly and ignoring my attempts to tug them free. His whole attitude changed to one of quiet shock and a questioning expression.
“Sohla, are you saying someone deliberately tried to hurt you? You clearly remember that the car was faulty, and you didn’t try to kill yourself?” He spells it out slowly, the color draining from his face and tightening with tension. He swallows hard, and it seems to calm my emotional hysteria. A creep of doubt at his reaction.
“Isn’t that what you wanted? A wife gone so you could have your company and your lover?....... Because I could have taken it all away. Because you hated me. I didn’t try to kill myself and end my life. You did.” I pull my hands away, and Jyeon’s face pales further, as though all his blood drains away as he takes in my words and shakes his head so slowly. He frowns so hard his brows knit in the middle, and his eyes glaze over with moisture. His expression is an undeniable show of confusion and innocence.
“I swear…. I would never hurt you like that. Sohla, I promise you. No matter how fucked up we were together, I would never try and kill you. It never crossed my mind, not once. I swear on Yoonah’s life…. I never did anything to the car and never expected you to take it.”