Just like that, a quarter of a year passed. Restrictions lingered—loosened but never gone.
Then my mom got edema. Born with a heart condition, she resisted, but we took her to her usual hospital anyway. With the pandemic, we secured a VIP room. I practically lived there, sleeping on the comfortable couch, sealed from the world.
She was released only after insisting on going home, her condition stable.
Her cardiologist, the old doctor who had tended her for decades, said we just needed to maintain her health.
But of course, we siblings guessed her insistence on leaving was because she missed my dad. They usually bickered every morning—it was their rhythm, their tether.
~~~**~~~
A week later, Kaelen sent me a picture of his COVID self-test pack. Positive. My breath hitched.
For a moment, my mind leapt too far ahead—airports, borders, hospital beds.
Then his messages followed:
I'm taking a flight back now.
Don't worry, I'm okay."
I forced myself not to pry. He said there was nothing to worry about, that he was vaccinated and in good health. Then I realized I might be overthinking. It was Vietnam, where restrictions were almost nonexistent. He could easily take his business-class flight and arrive within a few hours.
~~~
After that, our chats shrank to only good morning and good night. Still, I felt some strings tugging at me. Unseen, but there. I didn't want to dwell. For some reason, I cut my daily meditation and worked on my fitness instead, pushing until I slept from sheer exhaustion.
~~~
One morning, just after finishing in the bathroom, I saw several incoming messages. I swiped the screen open.
First: his location.
Second: a landscape shot from his hotel window—Gangnam under light mist, snow drizzle softening the surfaces.
Third: Good morning sayang. I miss U."
5:30 here. Two hours early there.
I smiled and replied: I miss U more babe. And good morning to you too."
It was December. The new year was less than a week away. I knew he was going to spend it back home, set off from Seoul in a couple of days. We hadn't talked about it, but somehow I knew. I called it women's intuition. Not the voice, just the feeling.
Perhaps my insecurities. Though Kaelen said I could talk about anything, reality was another. We'd been in a relationship for two years now, more than half of it long-distance. Our interaction was still good because we both felt the bond. But we hardly had conversations. Messages were scarce.
And the most important thing: because of the bond, his senses were sharp. He sensed me, my thoughts, my feelings. Sometimes he even called me to stop thinking because it affected him—he couldn't concentrate on work if I was too heavy on his mind.
And poor me, I also felt afraid to disturb him. I restrained myself. Thus the scarce communication as the result.
***
A few days before New Year, he video-called, sitting at his mother's home. The room behind him was warm and cozy, with a big screen TV on one side above a wooden rack that looked familiar in the 1990s. The other side was a big five seater leather sofa. The background felt real, stark different from the hotel suite I was used to.
His smile reached his eyes, indulging. My own heart felt lighter just looking at him.
There was a comfortable silence. He picked up his coffee mug, his eyes drifting away for a second before they landed back on me, a new kind of seriousness in them.
"Hey," he said, his voice lower than before. "Do you know that my parents once called a shaman to read my future?"
I must have looked stunned, my surprise too obvious on the screen.
"What?" I said, leaning closer to my phone.
"I told you—we are Asian, same culture. I act ignorant to avoid people talking about mystical nonsense. Doesn't mean I don't know, I just act stupid."
He paused, eyes scrutinizing me from the other side of the screen. "Wait… don't tell me you also think of me that way?"
Caught in my thoughts, I scoffed. "That way? What way? Like you would believe in my mystical mumbo jumbo nonsense?"
"Nope. You're different. I would never have thought of you like that."
I knew from his mischievous eyes he was about to say something mushy. I cut him off.
"I think your parents are quite something. Were you a bad boy back then?"
"Hey, is that how you truly think of me?" His big eyes rounded, pretending to look fierce.
"I know you, sayang… a playboy." I stuck my tongue out.
"I didn't have a chance back then. I was sixteen, very into my studies."
He must have seen my disbelief clear on my face. "My parents were concerned if my karmic past life would hinder my future. That shaman read me like a book. Hence my condition right now—all from his reading."
His voice slowed, then his original smile returned.
"Do you know what my parents asked after that?"
I shook my head, anticipating the reply.
"They asked about my love life." He grinned. I chuckled, knowing what was coming.
"That shaman said my parents didn't have to worry about that—just worry if it's too many."
"So you understand why I didn't believe you at the start, when you said you were single and hadn't been laid for a year, right?"
"Babe, it was then. I'm old now."
"Ooh, really? Why don't I see the trace of old on you?"
"Because you always bring out the good side of me, sayang." His eyes turned sincere, doting, striking me from the screen.
"Mushy." I said, but the warmth creeping up my face betrayed my words. He chuckled.
"May sound like it, but it's true. You're the hot, sexy momma who made it true." His words dropped low.
"Sayang… don't start." I tilted my head, pleading through the screen. My cheeks burned.
"You know I haven't done anything, babe."
Pause.
"I'll come to you after the new year, sayang."
New Year's Eve, the government lifted all restrictions. We all anticipated that.
Fireworks outside lit up the sky, smoke filling the pristine air with new energy. We watched from the backyard.
Kaelen's message came at 11 p.m., an hour early with our time difference.
Happy new year. Wish you healthy and happy. And lots of f you this year. Love U."
Witty.
***
I planned to sleep in the morning but someone stirred me from my bed. My mind still in haze, I thought I was in a dream. Big calloused hands touching mine, and I complied.
"I'll teach you how to appreciate your body, little imp."
The voice low, husky, like I'd known it before. His touches brought a familiar heat. Erotic scenes blurred, making me ache. Waves after waves of insatiable hunger finally filled. Hot burly body wrapped me breathless.
"You're gonna be the end of me."
The Baron. My eyes opened wide, breath ragged, sweat dampening my body through the thin blanket.
The wetness below.