Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 71595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
When I pull away, she deals me a skeptical look, asking, “That’s really all I should do?”
Well, there’s also the fact that she makes me laugh like no other can with how she butchers my mother tongue, but I don’t think it’s polite to tell her that. “You help me stay sane,” I say instead, “by keeping my mind off...things.” It’s such a shallow, ambiguous term to describe how my life has turned out, and I hate that I’m speaking in such a way. It makes me feel like a coward, but I don’t think I can bear to use anything more apt.
It’s been eight days since I last saw Yuki, and my life has turned into this horrible countdown from that point. Reports about the Nakagawas’ financial downfall have finally made it to mass media, but rumors about a possible merger with the billion-dollar Himura Corporation have significantly helped in alleviating the concerns of their stockholders. Seeing Yuki and Hikari Nakagawa attend various functions together certainly doesn’t hurt either, more so when both have acknowledged meeting each other through an omiai.
I know all of it is just damage control, and maybe if I’ve had some sort of contact with Yuki then all those photos and videos of him with another girl wouldn’t hurt as much.
Unfortunately, it’s the exact opposite.
It’s been eight days. Eight days. And yet there are no calls, no messages, no emails—-
Nothing.
And with each day that passes, my doubts just keep growing and worsening, and more and more I find myself wondering if there’s a point to waiting. I’ve read countless articles that talk about how Yuki and Hikari make such a perfect couple, and the more I read, the more I wonder if I should even wait in the first place—-
Or do I simply go so Yuki can have a chance falling for a girl who won’t ever hurt him the way I have?
“Kat?”
Vivi’s anxious tone makes me blink, and I realize I’ve been so lost in my thoughts I haven’t heard a thing she’s said.
“Sorry,” I apologize with a grimace. “What were you saying?”
Before I can answer, I hear my name being called out through the school’s PA system.
“You should hurry.” Worry flickers in Vivi’s eyes. “They only do that when there’s a family emergency.”
It takes me four minutes to get to the administration building, and I’m immediately directed to the office of the Dean of Student Affairs. It’s exactly as Vivi predicted, and I feel myself growing numb as I listen to the dean tell me about the phone call they’ve received from Bayfront Health, where Kelly’s confined for almost half a year now.
“It usually takes a week to process temporary leaves for foreign students, but because these are not ordinary circumstances and the hospital has properly coordinated with us, we can expedite the paperwork and enable you to fly home tonight if you so wish.”
The dean picks up the phone on her desk and hands the receiver to me. “Your mother is waiting on the other end. Please take as much time as you need to speak with her.”
I thank the dean with a bow, and when I hear the door close behind the older woman, I slowly bring the receiver to my ear. “Mom?”
“Hey, baby.”
Her voice is familiar, but it’s also because it’s so that I recognize the smallest differences. The exhaustion that underscores it, the pain, the fear—-
I blink furiously to keep myself from crying, and I fight hard to keep my tone light and teasing when I ask, “Do you know how much this call is going to cost us?”
Kelly laughs, and the note of relief in it tells me I’ve done the right thing. “Don’t worry. It’s coming out of your allowance.”
“Mom!”
“You know I’m kidding.” But this time her voice has a smile in it, and my heart aches so hard at the sound of it. I don’t mind living the rest of my life heartbroken if it means my mom gets a lifetime of smiles in exchange. “It’s so good to hear your voice, baby. How are you doing?”
“We just spoke last night,” I say wryly. “That was about 10 hours ago, and I’ve been asleep for seven of those. Don’t you think it’s a little early to ask that question?”
“You have a point.”
“A really good point.”
“And Yuki?”
The sudden change of topic throws me off. A couple of days ago, I finally told them about Yuki and I sorta dating but that he also has a sorta fiancée and they sorta freaked out over it.
“How are things between you?”
I take my phone out, but the screen is blank. Still no calls, no messages, no emails.
“Still as expected.”
“I see.”
Maybe I’m being a little too optimistic, but I’d like to think it’s more the number of times I used ‘sorta’ in a single sentence than Yuki himself that’s making my parents antsy.