My mind is bombarded with racing thoughts. I second-guess every decision I make. But not this one. I want Andrew.
When Jace's grandfather barged into Andrew's home, he threatened a lawsuit. Apparently, Mr. Harrison and Mr. Summers are acquainted. I watched the scene play out and urged Andrew to confess about the mugger. Initially, his father was shocked, but then he offered a smirk, realizing that what Jace did was far more malicious.
Jack then left in a huff and gave me a look. My heart sank in my chest. I hoped he wouldn't recognize me, and if he did, hopefully, he wouldn't do anything to harm my dad's job.
Now I'm at home in my room, my stomach churning.
I glance over to the window, at Jace's empty room. The sky is illuminated in cloudy blue.
Something feels off, as if he's calling out to me—almost like we're connected. Two souls from the same mold.
I knew I had to see him.
I took Emily's car; the drive was long and unnerving. I kept thinking, what if he didn't want to see me? What if he now hated me? Then Andrew came to my mind. What would he say? He wouldn't approve. I wanted to turn back, but the nagging feeling of seeing Jace gnawed at me.
The hospital's air always smelled the same, whether I was in Chicago, West Virginia, or California. It always had that same medicated scent.
I asked for his name, but they told me only family could visit.
I felt defeated until someone rested their hand on my shoulder. "It's okay, she's with me," a smooth, deep voice said.
I looked up at him. He was handsome. I frowned and took a step back.
"You must be Mirae?" He asked.
I remained silent. I wanted to see Jace; did that mean I had to lie?
"I'm Dorian, his cousin," he reached out his hand.
I just watched him. He didn't look anything like Jace. He had light features: blonde hair, light green eyes. He looked pleasant, whereas Jace always seemed troubled, like a cloud hung over his head.
I took his warm hand and shook it.
"You are quite beautiful," he said, his English accent more prominent than Jace's. I shot him a look, and he immediately apologized.
"That was inappropriate of me." He then straightened himself and cleared his throat. "Shall we?" He gestured to the patients' rooms.
I scratched the back of my neck. "Could you wait outside, actually?" I asked.
He nodded politely and gave me space.
I walked inside. He was looking out the window, a bandage on his chin.
"Leave me alone, Dorian," he muttered.
I remained quiet for a moment. "It's not Dorian," I whispered.
His head shot to me.
He was quiet for a moment.
"Do you hate me?" I asked.
He rested his head. "No," he replied.
I was surprised by that answer. "I thought you'd be mad."
"I'm not angry," he answered.
"Why?" I questioned.
"Why would I be?" He asked.
"Because I chose Andrew?" I raised my brow.
He shrugged. "I'm not upset with you. I can't be upset with your choices. I can't force you to choose me." He shrugged. "Besides, I'm with Mirae. I have no right to be upset."
I nodded. "Right."
Jace looked at me. "I wish I could have gotten to know you." He smiled faintly.
I swallowed. "Why?"
He took a breath. "Because you remind me of someone I used to know," Jace replied.
"Who?" I asked.
"I'm afraid if I tell you that, you'd stop doing it altogether," Jace smiled widely. I had never seen him smile like this before. It took me by surprise.
I watched him for a moment, his tired gray eyes studying me, black hair messy.
"I have a proposition," I said meekly.
His brow raised. "I'm listening," he smiled faintly.
"For one day, let's talk, get to know each other," I said, then watched him for his reply.
His smile widened. "What's the catch?" He questioned.
I shook my head. "We bury this," I said bluntly.
His smile faded. He turned away from me to the window. He sighed, then looked back at me. "If that's the only way," he gently obliged.
I walked over to the seat next to Jace's bedside. "Where do we start—" I was then interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Come in," Jace said, his voice stretching.
The door slid open, and in came Dorian, his blonde hair shining in the illuminating light.
Jace watched him.
"I'm going back to the holiday home," Dorian mentioned.
Jace gave him an exhausted look. "It's my house now, can't you stay at a hotel or something?" Jace asked.
Dorian gave him a look and cleared his throat. "Very well."
"I don't mean to be rude, Dorian, but you know how it is," Jace elaborated, but Dorian just waved him off.
"No need, I respect your boundaries," Dorian clarified.
"It was a delight meeting you, Mirae," My eyes widened at Mirae's name, Dorian then smiled at me and took his leave.
I turned to Jace, who was giving me a look. "Mirae?" He questioned. "But you don't even look remotely Korean. Does he not realize it's an East Asian name?" Jace chuckled.
I buried my head in my hands, attempting to hide from the embarrassment.
"Lucy, how dare you lie to my next of kin?" He shook his head at me.
"They wouldn't let me through," I defended myself. I then looked at Jace's East Asian features.
"You're half Korean?" I inquired.
He nodded. "She was from Busan and met my dad in Seoul," he answered distantly. "I'm their only child."
He looked over at me. "Are you adopted?" He queried.
I gave him a look. "No, I'm not. My dad is my real dad, but Emily is my stepmother."
"How come you never talk about your real mother?" He asked.
I paused at that question, and my throat tightened. "She treated Max and me badly," I replied.
"So Max is adopted?" He questioned.
"What gave it away?" I joked. "He's my half-brother from my mother. His dad abandoned him," I explained.
"That guy is a piece of work, who just abandons their kid like that?" Jace shook his head.
"Well, I guess it works out for the best now. He sometimes calls Emily and Dad 'Mom' and 'Dad.' They love him and treat him like their own. But it's hard not to love Max," I explained.
"How old is Max?" Jace asked.
"Fourteen," I smiled, feeling a sense of joy that Jace was asking about my family. Something that Andrew rarely
does. I wonder if he cares, or maybe he is just being sensitive towards me, as I did explain that I didn't speak to my mom anymore.
"And you're sixteen," he raised his brow.
I nodded. "Yes, I'm turning seventeen on the 15th of August."
Jace's eyes widened. "That's less than a week away," he said in shock.
I shrugged. "I guess it is," I smiled at him.
"Well, I have to get you something," Jace frowned.
"You absolutely cannot. Andrew will lose his marbles," I elaborated.
Jace sighed. "It's just a small gift. Don't be like that, Lucy," Jace frowned.
But I shrugged him off. "When's your birthday?" I asked.
"17th of February," he said, the mood went dark as I watched his eyes stare past me. He shakes his head and clears his throat, then puts his attention on me. "I don't celebrate my birthdays."
"Oh, but won't you be turning eighteen? That's a big deal," I smiled at him.
He nodded. "It's going to be the same as last year. Grandfather will get me all things, but I'll still feel so empty. I have been going to a therapist, but that feeling still comes, so I'm on some…" he looks away. "Medication," he gulps.
My heart drops. "Do you have depression?" I queried.
He doesn't look at me. "I thought it was obvious," he clears his throat. He turns to me slowly. "I wanted to get better so I can–" he cuts himself off.
"Tell me," I urged him.
He contemplates for a moment as his eyes are searching mine. "So that I could be with you."