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Chapter 11 - Chapter Eleven

I can't seem to shake the heaviness that's settled over me since that night with Yul. The misplaced memories have left me feeling unmoored.

As I get ready for work on Monday morning, my movements are sluggish, weighed down by the weight of all the questions spinning wildly around me. Is this normal? To have these fragments of the past assaulting me, leaving me reeling and disoriented?

Part of me wants to reach out, to tell someone about the tumult happening inside of my head between the now and the occasional peek at the past. But a voice in the back of my mind whispers a warning, urging me to stay silent. If I tell someone that I keep having flashbacks and feeling more from my past self, will they try to stop it? Yul and Inha and even Yeji have repeatedly said I should not go looking for the past, but this isn't always my doing. They seem to be coming whether I'm looking for answers or not. If I'm honest about it though, someone may try to prevent it from going further.

I can't let that happen. Not when I'm so close to unraveling what's thrown a wrench into our lives. There's no turning back now, not when I've caught a glimpse of the truth.

My resolve hardens. I can't fix what's broken between Inha, Yul, and myself until I understand the root of the fracture. The memories, as painful and disorienting as they may be, are the key.

I need to know what happened. What drove me to make the choice to erase everything, to start with a clean slate. Only then can I begin to mend the rifts that have torn my family apart.

The thought of losing either Inha or Yul is unbearable, even in the short amount of time I've known them as I am. They are both woven into the fabric of my life, integral threads that can't be unraveled without unraveling me in the process. I need them both, in whatever capacity they'll allow.

I'm sitting at the kitchen island, helping Seulgi scoop spoonfuls of yogurt into her mouth while the other kids chatter excitedly around me. The morning chaos is a whirlwind of noise and motion, but it's become comfortingly familiar even in my amnesic state.

Inha sweeps into the room, looking impeccable as always in his tailored suit. He pauses beside me, eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes in the scene of me surrounded by our rambunctious children.

"I'm heading to the office," he says, leaning down towards me.

For a split second, I think he's going to kiss me goodbye like so many husbands do with their wives. My breath catches in anticipation, wondering if this time he'll follow through instead of stopping himself at the last moment.

But just like every other morning since I've been back, Inha hesitates. He hovers there for the span of a heartbeat, eyes searching my face. Then, almost imperceptibly, he shifts away, leaving the moment untouched by affection.

"Have a good day at work," I murmur, trying to keep the disappointment from seeping into my voice.

Inha nods, straightening up and raking a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair. "You too. Don't forget we have that charity gala this weekend."

I force a smile, ignoring the dull ache that blossoms in my chest at his casual dismissal. "I won't."

With one last glance at the kids, he turns and strides out, leaving an Inha-shaped hole in the kitchen that seems to suck all the warmth from the room. I shiver despite the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

I sigh as Inha disappears out the front door, the tension between us lingering like a stale scent. As much as I crave his warmth, his touch, there's an invisible barrier keeping us at arm's length.

It's not that I don't want that intimacy with him. My body certainly does, if the way it responds to his proximity is any indication. But my mind is another matter entirely. For all that he is my husband, he's still very much a stranger in so many ways.

I have only hazy glimpses of our past intimacy, which only serve to deepen the chasm between who I am now and who I was before. I don't know that version of myself - the one who loved him so fiercely, who danced with him in this very living room with such unbridled joy shining in her eyes.

How can I bridge that divide and reclaim what we once had when I can't recognize the woman I used to be?

Part of me wants to reach out, to initiate that closeness and affection he so clearly craves from me. To throw myself headlong into rediscovering what I found with him. But every time I consider it, doubt wraps icy tendrils around my resolve.

What if I'm not ready? What if forcing that level of intimacy only pushes him further away when I can't be that Yena? I can't lose him entirely, not when he's the father of four of my children, not when some part of me still cares for him deeply.

No, I decide as I watch Seulgi's cherubic face scrunched in concentration. For now, I'll have to take things slowly, let things progress at a natural pace. Maybe in time, the Yena he loves will resurface on her own without me having to force it. Or maybe this new me will rekindle his affections just as strongly.

Either way, I can't rush into something I'm not ready for, no matter how much I wish I could erase the awkward distance between us. Baby steps - that's the only way to ensure I don't inadvertently ruin what fragile bonds are reforming.

I just hope Inha has the patience to let me find my way.

* * *

 

"I don't know what to do," I confess into the phone, rubbing my temple wearily. "It feels so awkward. Part of me wants to just throw caution to the wind and dive back into being intimate with Inha. But the other part is terrified of messing things up even more between us."

"Girl, I'm surprised it's taken you this long. Thought you two would be out on one of your long 'fresh air breaks' in the country by now!" Yeji laughs through the phone.

I furrow my brow, confused by her comment. "What do you mean? Inha said I didn't even like him at first when we got matched."

Yeji scoffs loudly. "Inha's just exaggerating, as usual. Sure, you played a little hard to get in the beginning, but that's just because you were trying to act all cool and unaffected. Trust me, I saw the way you used to look at him when you thought no one was watching."

My cheeks flush slightly at her implication. It's strange hearing about my past self's desires from an outside perspective.

"Seriously though," Yeji continues, "you two were absolutely insufferable once you finally gave in to the chemistry. I had to start bringing noise-canceling headphones whenever I came over."

I scoff. "I don't think I would've ever been like that…"

But she just cackles mischievously. "Oh God, just you wait. You remember how you were with boys in high school? You were already ahead of most of us by a mile, but by the time you and Inha started really getting heated…" she whistles, "Let's just say you had some stories to tell about what the difference between homeland Korean men and American Korean men can do."

I can feel my eyebrows shoot up. My mind whirs as my imagination helplessly takes off. Yeji's implication coincides with the already enticing thoughts I've already had about Inha and Yul.

"But really, Unnie, don't overthink it so much with Inha. When the time feels right, just go for it. Trust me, you'll both be a lot happier."

I chew my lip, mulling over her advice. Part of me is tempted to take the plunge, to throw propriety out the window and finally act on the simmering tension between Inha and myself. But the cautious side of me holds me back, afraid of moving too fast and making an irreparable mistake.

With a sigh, I change the subject, not ready to make any rash decisions just yet.

 

I sit at my desk, rifling absentmindedly through the drawers in search of that quarterly report I was supposed to review. My mind keeps drifting back to my conversation with Yeji earlier. Her teasing words about how passionate Inha and I used to be together play over and over, sparking all sorts of unbidden thoughts.

I try to push them from my mind, but it's difficult when every time I close my eyes, I picture Inha in a similar office across town. I find myself picturing him bent over his desk, sleeves rolled up as he works intensely. My gaze drifts down to imagine the flex of his forearms, the broadness of his shoulders tapering down to his trim waist...

Flustered, I shake my head roughly and force my attention back to the task at hand. I need to focus. This report is important and I don't want to appear flustered in front of my coworkers.

My hand brushes something cool and metallic in the back of the drawer. Frowning, I pull it out, revealing an ornate golden desk clock bearing the engraved logo of Kang Industries - Inha's family company. 

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hits me and images flash rapidly through my mind...

Inha rolls his eyes as he presents me with the lavish gift, he crosses his arms over his chest and jerks his head at the box. "From my mother, to celebrate your first promotion."

The clock is…well I'm not sure it's quite my taste, but it's a nice gesture. Certainly thoughtful when considering it's from Miss Ice Queen herself.

"It's a…" I try to come up with a thankful way to describe it.

"Gaudy?" Inha supplies, "Ugly and useless?"

A snort bubbles out of me and I put the lid back on the box. "At least she's trying to be nice."

Inha arches one brow, "I think the correct term would be 'bribery', in my mother's mind I'm sure this is adequate compensation."

For being awful, he doesn't finish. Inha's mother thinks this can make up for her past transgressions. Another meaningless gift to add to the pile she's been throwing at us in her attempts to convince us to allow her to see Yuji.

I slip the box into one of my desk drawers. I have no plans on displaying the ridiculous thing anywhere in my office.

I gasp sharply, the vivid memory crashing over me like a tidal wave. Before I can even get my bearings, it's followed up by a much more all-encompassing and much longer one.