"Are you okay?" Cassie asked for the second time, her eyes focused on Veronica.
She sighed. "Yes, I am. Now, could you stop asking me?"
Cassie shook her head, not believing her. "I will not stop asking you until you tell me what is wrong."
She went away, as one of the guests sitting in the dining room beckoned her. Veronica watched her go, exhaling a deep breath. She had no intention of reliving last night. Or even thinking about it. However, the last thing was easier said than done. It came in waves. Her mother's face. What she had said. The two of them fighting outside the police station. Chan taking her home. She had seen the pity in his eyes. Veronica hadn't wanted him to be there yesterday. Didn't want him to realise what a mess her life was.
She didn't know how she would ever face him again. What he must think about her or her family. She hadn't slept the whole night. Her mother's words replaying in her mind over and over again. Everyone you love leaves you. She was right. Everyone Veronica had loved and chosen to leave her. Even her own mother had never wanted her around. Was she so unlovable? Growing up, she thought that there was something wrong with her. Then she had met Peter, and for a moment, that illusion, those doubts had left her brain. But he, too, had left her. He, too, had been nothing but a miscalculation on her part. Maybe there was something wrong with her. Something she couldn't see, but the others sensed when they met her.
Someone dinged the bell at the front desk, and Veronica snapped out of her thoughts. A couple stood before her, staring at her as if they were unsure of her mental stability. She wondered for how long they had been trying to get her attention.
"I am sorry," she started, pulling her lips into a smile. "Welcome to The Hawthorne Inn. How can I help you?"
"We have a reservation," the guy supplied. He looked to be around in his thirties, with lush black hair and a round face.
"Can I know the name under which the reservation is made?" She pulled up the list on the computer.
The couple was staying for the week, celebrating their fifth wedding anniversary. Once they were all checked in and settled in their rooms, Veronica sent up a bottle of champagne as congratulations and an apology for ignoring them while they stood three feet away from her.
She took her break in the kitchen eating spaghetti and watching Minho order his kitchen staff around. She was tired and it was only twelve-thirty in the afternoon. The hollows behind her eyes hurt as if she had spent the entirety of last night crying in bed. She hadn't. Once Chan had dropped her off, she had simply changed clothes, gotten under her blanket, and stared at the ceiling. She had watched the sunrise from her window and gotten up when her alarm rang.
"Are you okay?" Minho asked, slinking up next to her.
She put her fork down. "Why is everyone asking that? It's not like I wore my bra outside of my shirt."
Minho leaned in. "Maybe because you look like someone ran you over with a bus."
Veronica couldn't argue with that. She was too tired to even wear makeup. She felt naked without her lipstick. "Just a bad night. Couldn't sleep."
He looked at her like he didn't believe her but didn't push for more. "Why don't you take an early day? Martin can look after the guests?"
Veronica twirled the noodles around her fork. "And who's gonna have that conversation with him?"
Minho exhaled and went back to his station, tossing some vegetables into the pan. She found comfort in the clamor of this kitchen. The constant sounds of things being stirred, fried, sauteed, and plated, she could almost drown out her thoughts. Almost.
"Do you have any plans for the weekend?" Veronica asked.
She could hear Minho's smile as he said, "I have a date."
She clapped her hands together, excited. "A date? Oh my God, who is it?"
He walked over to where she was sitting and placed a piece of pie in front of her. "Someone I met at the Farmer's market."
"Really?"
Minho nodded. She could see the twinkle in his eyes. "He and I were reaching for the last of the pumpkins, and the next thing I know, I was giving him my number."
Veronica smiled. "Are you going out tonight?"
"Yeah, at eight. He's taking me to this Somalian restaurant in the city. I am really excited."
"I am so excited for you." She reached out and grabbed his hand. "You have to tell me everything."
Veronica didn't have to ask Martin if she could leave early that day. He simply walked up to her and said, "You look like shit. Take the rest of the day off."
Veronica wondered if Minho had talked to him. Either way, she was glad to go home and try to sleep through the whole day. She was tempted to empty the bottle of wine in her fridge but decided against it. The last thing she needed was a raging hangover.
Pumpkin greeted her with meows the moment she stepped into the apartment. She picked up her cat and carried her inside the bedroom. Quickly changing into a loose T-shirt, she lay on the bed waiting for sleep to come. Suddenly, despite being bone tired, she felt wide awake. Throwing the covers off of her body, she let out a frustrated sigh. She was about to go into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee when she heard something tapping against her bedroom window.
Scrunching up her eyebrows, she got off the bed and slowly made her way towards the window. She jerked back a little when she saw a small pebble strike against its surface. Opening the glass pane, she looked down to see who it was only to find Chan standing there, looking up at her.
"What are you doing?" She asked. He was holding a bunch of small stones in his hand. She was not prepared to see him. To have him look at her with nothing but pity in his eyes. She didn't want that. She was embarrassed. Of her mother's behavior. Of herself. Of having dragged him into that mess in the first place.
"Throwing rocks at your window," he replied with a smile. "Your buzzer wasn't working."
She shook her head, a small laugh escaping her lips. She played with the neckline of her shirt, trying to calm down her jittery senses. "I can not believe you threw rocks at my window instead of messaging me. Do you want to come through the front door, or should I just let my hair down like Rapunzel?"
He chuckled, got down on his knees, and extended his arm towards her. "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair."
Despite feeling like a hollow shell of a person for the most day, Veronica laughed. "I will let you in."
Veronica barely had any time to prepare herself before Chan materialized before her eyes. He was dressed in black jeans and a white bomber jacket. His hair fell in black curls around his eyes. She had the flashback of him dragging her away from the police station. He had helped her get in the car, even put on the seatbelt for her.
"Hi," she greeted, closing the door after him. She still felt his touch on her chin, like a lingering essence.
"Hi," Chan greeted back, his smile on full display. She watched the uneven dimples on his cheek, the curve of his lips, the way he looked at her. As if she was the only thing that mattered.
She cleared her throat. "What are you doing here?"
Chan ran a hand through his hair. Pumpkin had emerged from Veronica's room and was meowing at Chan, who lifted her up. "I went to the inn to see you, but Martin told me that he sent you home early on accounts of scaring away the guests."
Veronica rolled her eyes and went into the kitchen to make herself some coffee. She needed something to steady her nerves. "I was a bit tired."
Chan watched her scoop coffee into the pot. "So you decided to drink some coffee?"
She didn't need to look at him to see the concern on his face. She knew she looked how she felt on the inside. Like a shriveled up raisin. Her body was begging her to stop. To breathe. But she knew if she stopped, all those thoughts she had kept at bay would come rushing back. And she wouldn't be able to get up from the kitchen floor. It was good at Chan saw her like this. Because this was who she was. Someone who couldn't face her problems, who bolted from her thoughts. Whatever imagery he had conjured up in his head about her was a lie. Her mother was right. She was alone. And rightfully so. Who would ever want this? She didn't blame people for running away. Wasn't that what she was doing, too? Running away from herself because the truth was too ugly to look at.
"Veronica?" Chan stepped into the kitchen. The coffee pot had begun shaking in her hand. He took it from her and placed it on the counter.
She clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking. As if this would stop her from crumbling into a million pieces.
"Are you okay?" He leaned down and looked at her.
There it was again. The pity. She didn't want him to feel sorry for her. She had long ago accepted that this was her life. That she couldn't change her family. Her mother hated her. Veronica had accepted that, too. It was a reality of her life. Her sealed fate.
She took a step back. "I am okay, just tired. You should probably leave."
She stepped around him, trying to stop the onslaught of tears. She had already humiliated herself in front of Chan last night. He didn't need to see her break down, too.
"Hey," he said, catching up and making her turn around. "Talk to me."
"Why?" she bit out, looking at him. She hated the venom in her voice, but she could do nothing to stop it. "What's talking going to do? I don't need your pity, Chan. I am grateful to you for last night, but I don't need to see you feel sorry for me. I don't think I could take that."
Chan didn't move. Just stood there, absorbing her words. He looked down at her, the emotion in his eyes unclear. "You don't have to do it alone, Veronica."
"But this is my life," she replied. This time, when the tears started, she couldn't stop them. "I have to do this. My mother is right. About everything. Even now, after all that she's done, all those years of neglect and hurt and still all I want from her is to love me."
She wiped at her eyes, trying to stabilize her voice. "I keep going back, and she keeps showing me how much she doesn't want me in her life. I am stupid. I am desperate. You must think that I am an idiot but I can't help it. I-"
But whatever she was about to say was cut off when Chan stepped forward and hugged her. The feel of his arms around her waist, the familiarity of his smell, and the way his body caged her. The safety it offered was the final straw.
She didn't remember how long she stood there crying as Chan hugged her. He never moved an inch, just kept rubbing her back and murmuring, "It's okay. It's gonna be okay."
Even after she stopped crying, she didn't move away. She was tired. Of holding herself up. Of standing straight. She wasn't sure that if she moved away, her legs would hold her weight.
"I am sorry," she mumbled out against Chan's shoulder.
He tightened his arms around her, pressing their bodies closer. Veronica's breath hitched at the heat of his body. She could feel his heart beating against hers.
"I want you to know that," he said, his breath tingling her neck. "Nothing your mom said about you is true. You are beautiful and kind, and everything you touch blossoms. You change people's lives, Veronica. You are never alone. And I know it's hard for you to accept that. But it's okay to lean on people. It's okay to share your burdens. I am here."
Veronica didn't know how, but somehow, she detangled herself from Chan. He helped her get into the bed. Closed the blinds on the window and made sure the blanket covered her. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was the familiar weight of Pumpkin sleeping beside her and Chan's silhouette next to her.