"My head's a mess." I follow Greta around the market, picking up fruit to examine it before tossing a mango in the bag she's holding open.
"I told you, didn't I…PI…or some hot detective who can look into your disappearance objectively." After I'm done, she puts the bag in the cart and follows me along to the next set of display shelves to pick out some bananas.
Jyeon made good on his promise to fill the apartment with food and necessities but going to an organic produce market together like this is a rare treat. All the island's fresh fruit and vegetables are shipped over to us. We rarely see anything non-seafood-related in quaint little setups like this. The whole area smells divine with the mingled scents of tropical fruits.
"I don't know. I feel like I'm getting deeper and deeper into hot water the longer we're here. Maybe I should have some kind of episode and suddenly remember it all. So, we can leave."
"Are you scared that you might want to stay? That your feelings for them are unresolved?" Greta eyes me up as she swings the cart in front of me to stop me in my tracks, and I sigh aloud. Knowing that penetrating gaze and the way her head's going.
"I don't know…. I don't know…. I don't fucking know." I exhale in exasperation. I'm hypersensitive as hell because I can't sleep at night anymore, and the brief time I spent with Mother and Yoonha yesterday has me all kinds of crazy. Jyeon had me at a clinic in the evening for a CT scan and an hour-long appointment with some head specialist, and I had to act my ass off and let Greta help with answers. Surprisingly, the doctor seemed to believe us. So sure he would figure it out while we sat there.
I am neither up nor down nor any clearer about his intentions with me, beyond what he keeps drumming into my brain.
That he loves me and misses me.
That I don't even know about the car anymore.
And what the hell is Claire in all of this?
Ughhhhhh.
"What time is Jyeon collecting you today? I swear that guy is relentless in his pursuit of you. Not a single day goes by that you get a break from seeing him." Greta leans past me and grabs a bag of carrots, and tosses them in, eyeing me up with a frown and a sulky demeanor.
"What exactly are we cooking that requires carrots? And in two hours, for the event." I lift my brow at her, knowing fine well we have some in the apartment, and throw them back on the shelf. She's just tossing produce to vent her frustration. Being moody and a part of me is starting to suspect she's jealous of Jyeon muscling between us and taking me away from her. She's been clingy and possessive since we got here, and I know she's afraid that I choose to stay behind when the time comes to go home.
"Jyeon stew…we need a big pot of stock to boil up that asshole." She pouts, and I break into a laugh and bop her on the head before nudging her cart onward. Ignoring her sulk and moving along with the topic.
"What are you going to do while he once again swans off with me? Stay home? Go out…. there's a movie theatre nearby you could try. Jyeon deposited cash into our account this morning so go splurge as he's been generous." I brighten with a genuine smile and link my arm in hers to wander the market without a real reason. We don't need anything, but this is nice, and the crisp air, although a little cold, is refreshing. Most of the goods are imported, but the ambiance of a good old fashion market is relaxing.
"Don't forget….. the accident, Sohla. Don't relax so much and forget what we suspect. Stay alert. Jyeon is charming, smooth, and hot, and I know you still love him. I don't trust your weak heart when you're alone with him. Don't forget what he did."
"I know, Okay. You don't need to remind me. I am more than aware. I don't need a PI…we're not staying here. Once this is done and we go home, I'll forget all about all of it, and we can move on. With money… because we'll have it. It's sort of working out for the best."
We walk along the aisle and turn to the next one, falling into companionable silence and moseying the array of choice, when a familiar scent wafts by me, and I glance up automatically. A woman our height, with long red hair in a two-piece black suit, is walking ahead of us and leaving a trail of the expensive perfume I used to wear.
Looking at her from behind, I smile with amusement how she could be me two years ago apart from the hair color. Same arrogant catwalk way of walking. Killer heels, impeccable suit, and expertly groomed and preened to perfection. A cold suave aura of command as she stops and picks up a bag of strawberries. Her nails sharpened into red talons to match the underside of her shoes. She's exceptionally pulled together, and yet, I have zero envy. I see a lonely and solitary closed-off woman who relies on no one but herself. No one gets close. A shadow of my past and a time I was undeniably miserable.
I don't miss the uniform. Or the attitude that I created as a form of keeping people at arm's length. She looks icy and imposing from the rear, and I now get what it was that Jyeon hated so much whenever I entered his space. She has this solid shield of heartlessness.
"Excuse me, can you scoot over? You're blocking the aisle." Greta calls out to the woman as she's parked her cart sideways, blocking the passageway, and we stop patiently for her to acknowledge us.
She turns and gives us an up and down snooty frown as though we're the inconvenience, and I freeze. Faced with this bitch once more. An instant bubble of temper grows hot in the pit of my pelvis, and I bite my lip to curb the words that threaten to fall out of my mouth like missiles. My entire body bristles with goosebumps as my hair stands on end.
"So, it's you." Claire eyes me over, taking in my attire and friend with a smug snort, and turns back to the shelf before tossing the strawberries back with a smirk. "Jyeon mentioned he found you. So, it seems he was right. Welcome back, Miss Kim." She turns to us entirely, smoothing back a strand of her hair from her face with polished precision, and crosses her arms over her chest to stare me straight on. Making a show of appraising what she sees and looking unimpressed.
It's weird. It's like she spent the last two years remodeling herself to fit the gap I left behind, and now I'm faced with something creepily similar to the person I no longer want to be. I know this isn't down to her job role, so maybe she's been initiated into the Parks, and mother has modeled my replacement. Although nothing of her was in the house, they never mentioned her.
"Who are you exactly?" Greta chimes in, instantly bristling all over with the snootiness of this girl's attitude towards me. Having never seen her before.
"Claire White. Director of R and D at OLO." She extends a mocking hand, the name registering in Greta's mind, and gets it pushed away harshly. Greta stiffened to fight mode in the blink of an eye.
"Ahhhhh, the homewrecker and a shameless tramp who pursued a married man. How's that working out for you?" Greta holds no punches, not even lowering her tone tinged with venom. "Aren't you a little too proud considering you banged your boss to get this far? Hardly an achievement."
"Greta…" I warn, cutting into her bitch fight that's ready to roll and look Claire up and down with cool disinterest. Not going to allow Greta to make a public scene when news only just hit of my miraculous appearance. This is all we would need. Someone filming us and posting it online.
"Apologies, my friend is very loyal and has a code of conduct that she lives by. Some things are just shamelessly abhorrent to her." I smile sweetly, bile rising in my stomach when faced with this wench, and yet I act perfectly. Crazy how even after two years, being back here, I found that mask I could pull out and stick on when faced with tramps like this. That old me can still pull the old trick out.