“Not sure,” I repeat. “Why?”
“If I don’t go back, I’ll let everyone down.”
“If you’re not ready, you’re not ready.”
He laughs, but it’s a harsh sound that I’m not used to hearing from him. “I’ve been training for years. I will make myself ready and get over it because I owe it to the members and fans. My feelings are small when compared to everyone else.”
“That’s not how it has to be.” This is much different from thetake care of yourself firstmentality I’m used to.
He gives a resigned shrug. “For me, it is. I suppose I knew how this would end, Ari. I knew I would go back, but I liked to pretend to myself that I could change things.”
Where does that leave me? I’m not ready to ask it, not yet.
“What’s next, then?” The coin slips out of my fingers and drops to the ground. We both leave it.
He looks sad. “I don’t know. I want to be with you, to continue what we were starting.”
“Right.” I stand and clap my hands briskly. I had meant the general state of affairs, and I don’t want to have this specific relationship talk, not while I’m working through this new information. “Get Hana in here.”
“Ari, I—”
“Hana, I said.”
His lips thin, but he leaves without another word. Most of my fury goes with him, and I huddle into the chair. I understand about not being able to find his way to telling me the truth, but there are too many layers of betrayal for me to consider forgiving him at the moment. He lied about who he was even as I thought we had a connection. I don’t know if he was using me or for what. He’s clearly an incredible liar—how can I trust a thing he says or ever said?
I don’t know if I can. That hurts more than I anticipated.
Twenty-One
If Jihoon’s treachery is hurtful but now slightly understandable, Hana’s is unfathomable.
She sidles in, eyes downcast. “Hey.” It’s the same tone you’d use to placate a bear as you step between her and her cub. Her mobile face is pale and guilty—as it should be, because that was a hell of a truth she hid from me.
I say nothing and she crumbles. “I’m sorry,” she moans, covering her face. “I should have told you.”
“That you were cousins with a man I’m told is one of the most famous singers in the world? Why would I need to know that, even though we tell each other everything?”
“I know, it looks really bad.”
“Looksbad? Itisbad, but it’s not like you planted him in my house to live in hiding and let me wallow in my ignorance like a fool. Wait, you did. That’s exactly what you did.”
“I didn’t know you’d fall for him,” she says weakly. “Jihoon’s not your type.”
“What does that mean? Super attractive, generous, sweet men can keep walking?”
“No, but you’ve always dated corporate white guys.”
“You know where I work! There’s not a lot of choice. It’s proximity,not preference.” I shake my head. “What would you have done if I recognized him?”
She snorts. “Please. I knew that wouldn’t be a problem.”
“This is not relevant right now.” I get back on track. “What is relevant is the fact you that didn’t tell me who he really was.”
“Would it matter?”
“That he has a fandom of millions and the international media was searching for him? Yeah, that would have been a good thing to know.” Would I have treated him any different if I knew he was rich and famous and wanted? I don’t want to think about this and retreat into my justifiable rage.
“See?”
