Mrs. Choi’s hand is on her throat. “How can you say this to your own mother?”
“I’m saying it because I love you and I want to keep seeing you. If you don’t respect me, we can’t do that.”
“Respect.” Mrs. Choi glares at her, voice getting high. “What do you know of respect? I raised you! We came here so you would have a better life.Youshould respectme.”
“I do. I also need some space.”
I’m in awe of Hana right now. I thought it was hard to talk to Phoebe, but Hana’s gone right into the bear’s den. I can tell how scared she is by the way she picks at her leggings with one hand, but she’s standing up for herself.
“Your father will be ashamed of you, speaking to me like that.”
Hana doesn’t reply, but she doesn’t lower her eyes. The staring contest between the two Choi women lasts for another few seconds, and then to my shock, it’s Mrs. Choi who breaks.
She slams the cutlery drawer shut and spins around to grab her rice. “Only dutiful daughters deserve my cooking,” she says.
Then she leaves, slamming the door behind her. I rush to lock it and then turn to check on Hana. She looks almost dazed. “What the hell did I do?” she whispers. “I’ve never seen her so mad.”
“Hey, you did good. It was hard but you did it.”
She bursts into tears as I hug her. “Am I a bad daughter? She’s right. I do owe her respect. She’s done so much for me.”
“Hana, you can love your mom and want to live your life.”
She doesn’t reply, but after a few minutes, she moves from sobs to sniffles. “I thought she was going to cry.”
“I know you feel bad.”
“I feel terrible.” She rubs her eyes. “I had to.”
“You did.”
“Thanks for staying here. It helped.”
“Anytime. Kind of wish she left the food, though. Your mom is a great cook.”
Hana hiccups and starts laughing. Soon we’re both laughing, and it feels like a cure.
Ari—Daehyun and I met with the agency about our songwriting. They insist it’s better for StarLune to keep things the way they are. I gave in and hated myself again. Daehyun is unhappy and so is Kit hyeong, since they rejected his solo project. I hope you are keeping warm. I check the weather in Toronto every day. Watch for the snow.
I pull my coat tighter around me as a barrier against the cold wind while I stand in front of Dad’s office building.
It’s been years since I’ve been here. I don’t want to be here now, but some things are better said in person, and the formality of the office might be helpful. The other night, Phoebe and I had been at dinner when she finally exploded on him for pressuring me to beg Richard to end the leave he put me on. I hadn’t had the guts to tell him I’d already quit and was working at Luxe. I’d told myself it was for his own good because of his heart, but it was because I was a coward.
After seeing Hana confront her mom, I made up my mind. I always thought I had control in my life and of the decisions I made, but now I see that as long as I’d let him determine my path, however indirectly, none of those choices had been mine in the first place.
I push open the lobby door. The elevator is waiting, but instead I climb the stairs to the second floor.
“Oh my, Ari.” Gloria, Dad’s assistant, gives me a big smile when I lean around the door. “Look at you. It’s been so long. How are you?”
“Good, thanks. You?”
“Can’t complain.” She checks her monitor. “Is your dad expecting you?”
“No. I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d come say hi.”
Her eyebrows rise slightly because she knows the chances of me coincidentally being in the neighborhood are slim. All she says is, “He’s free if you want to go in.”
Nope, I do not want to go in to have this conversation, but I force myself through the door. Dad looks up from behind the desk. “Ari? Is everything okay?” He half stands, hands flat on his desk and eyes wide.
