Anya:

  Why did I have to bring up my past like that? It isn’t getting any easier to talk about, but I should be past this stage by now. This grief I’m still carrying manages to cloud every experience I have. Our dinner was going great until I had to bring that up—it totally killed the mood. And, oh my god, why did I have to start crying? God I’m so pathetic.

  As usual I give myself a mental dressing down: Just stop. Stop being this helpless little girl. You’re stronger than this, Anya. Get your shit together and go to sleep. Focus on school. This guy isn’t worth your time or emotions. Just focus on you.

  ***

  “Miss Anya? Miss Anya? Are you awake?”

  It’s morning and Mrs. Kim is yelling through the door once again. Is she ever going to let me wake up naturally?

  “Miss Anya—”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Eomma.” I hear his deep voice interrupt.

  He’s yelling at her from the kitchen and they start arguing—at least, I think it’s an argument—before she shouts through my door again. “Miss Any—”

  “I’m up!” I half yell, interrupting her. “I’m up. I’ll be right out.”

  “Ok breakfast is hot so you eat now.”

  “Mm-hmm,” I grumble back.

  She’s going to keep doing this, isn’t she.

  I have my own alarm you know, I mentally shout at her. Ugh.

  I rub my eyes as I walk to the shower, but my thoughts go back to last night. What exactly happened? He offered to heat up some food and you accepted, that’s all. But the offer of wine was an unexpected bonus. It would be going too far to say he was trying to create a mood. He was clearly just being the perfect host. So perfect that it felt like sharing a drink with an old friend. Is he a friend? Considering what we’ve shared, he’s surely more than an acquaintance.

  I have to remember that he was also trying to make up for his lie about me being his wife on the plane. Although I still haven’t worked out why saying I was his wife was the first thing that entered his head. I suppose he could hardly have claimed I was his sister. Adopted sister? That would be a stretch too. God. Why am I getting so hung up on being his “wife”?

  Let’s put it down to the stress of today’s upcoming language classes. Yeah, that’s it. Today is my first day and my nerves are shot.

  Just get through this day, Anya, my inner psychiatrist tells me. Don’t overthink everything. You’re not here for him. You’re here for you. Focus on you.

  That’s definitely easier said than done.

  ?Sky Mincharo