“Yes,” I admit, feeling a slight smile tug at my lips despite my annoyance at Demi’s betrayal. “He’s very kind. Thoughtful. Caring. I mean, the list can go on.”
“And his career? His people?” My mother fires off, her voice rising with each question.
“Aaron’s a best-selling author,” I answer, hearing the unexpected note of pride in my voice. “His brothers are good men—one runs a successful comic company, the other plays professional hockey.” I leave out the orphanage. Some stories aren’t mine to share.
My mother makes a satisfied humming sound. “Very impressive. When will we meet him?”
Demi presses her lips together, shoulders trembling with suppressed laughter as I shift uncomfortably.
“We’re still in the early stages, Umma. Just… exploring.”
“Yet you purchased a ticket to California,” my mother states, her tone leaving no room for argument.
I snap my gaze to Demi, who immediately throws her hands up. “I swear I didn’t?—”
“I receive emails for your large purchases.” My mother interrupts. “The airline confirmation came through yesterday.”
“Umma, wait—how are you—” I stop myself, remembering the financial monitoring setup from my college days. “You’re still tracking my credit card?” The words come out in English, my shock overriding my language filter.
“Naturally,” she replies as if discussing the weather. “How else would I know you’re not surviving on ramen? Or that you bought proper winter boots last November? You tell me nothing.” She pauses briefly. “Now, when should we expect to meet this, Aaron?”
I take a deep breath, feeling the combined effects of wine, soju, and maternal ambush. “I don’t know. Like I said, it’s new, and he’s traveling for his book tour.”
“Bring him for Chuseok,” she suggests, her tone making it clear this isn’t really a suggestion. “Two birds, one stone. We meet your man; you visit your family.”
Across from me, Demi silently draws her finger across her throat like an executioner.
“I’ll see if our schedules align,” I utter, recognizing surrender when I taste it.
“Wonderful! I’ll prepare the guest bedroom.” Victory rings in my mother’s voice. “And send a photo of him soon.”
“Annyeong, Umma. I love you.”
“I love you too, my stubborn daughter. You too, Demetria. No more drinking tonight!”
The call ends, and I sink deeper into the couch with a defeated groan. “I’m going to kill you.”
“What? I never mentioned California!” She tops off our glasses, liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim. “Though I’ve got to say, credit card monitoring at thirty-two? Your mother deserves some kind of surveillance award.”
“Not California. Aaron.”
“Oh.” Demi laughs. “So, meeting the parents already? I hear Korean wedding ceremonies are beautiful in the fall.”
“We’re not—” I press my fingertips against my temples. “This isn’t even a relationship.”
“Not with that attitude. But as you said earlier, no more Aaron talk.” She grabs the remote, resuming the show with a satisfied smirk.
I stare at the screen without seeing it, my mind racing. Aaron in my childhood home, bowing to my mother, eating her japchae while she interrogates him in broken English. And what happens when our casual thing fizzles out before September? Or worse—what if the Hui-Wang case explodes and I can’t go at all? The thought of disappointing my mother again is something I don’t think I can stomach.
CHAPTER 26
MINJI
Today I flyto see Aaron, and I regret choosing an early flight. I couldn’t sleep because of a gut feeling that something’s wrong with Evelyn, who’s gone quiet on me since our initial meeting. I emailed James’s attorney, and they confirmed he has gone radio silent, which I take to mean they’re probably trying to reconcile. Still, I refuse to believe it. I just can’t. This case is under intense scrutiny as I aim for partner.
I check my inbox for the millionth time—nothing new. I scan through my phone messages: no updates from Evelyn, no messages from James’s lawyer, not even a spam call about renewing my imaginary car’s extended warranty. At least Eliza is awake—she’s sent a sunrise emoji and a ‘DO GREAT THINGS!’ meme, as if she suspects my entire day depends on it.
I go through the airport routine in a fog: TSA strips me down, then apologizes, a tourist nudges my heel with a rolling suitcase, and the only coffee near my gate is from a kiosk with ‘cash only, sorry’ written in pink Sharpie. My phone buzzes several times at the gate. My stomach tightens—Evelyn is canceling our contract? I scramble for my phone, then breathe a sigh of relief when I see Demi’s name.
