CHAPTER 7 “It’s been a while, Mom...”

I screamed and cried as if the world would end tomorrow. Everything that has happened felt like a bomb aimed at my chest. I could barely breathe, as if there’s a hole inside my heart. It was painful and frustrating like I was slowly losing myself.

Why is this happening? 

Am I a bad person in my past life? 

Am I being punished? 

I don’t know what to do. I just want to forget and disappear. No one is on my side. No one is here to help me. I’m alone, just by myself. “Mom…”

The silence that settled between Victor and me the night before was colder than any argument could ever be. I pulled my hand free from his grasp not with anger but finality. It was over. Maybe it had been over long before I even realized it. His lips moved pleading and explaining but I no longer cared. All this time, was he showed me was all lies and I felt pathetic knowing it just now. I left him standing in the living room with his excuses and the shadows of a marriage that had already rotted.

"Screw you, Victor.." I murmured to myself and then just like that, I was gone.

No note, announcement. No final goodbye. Just quiet resolve and a suitcase rolling across the polished floor as I walked out of that house for the last time this damn early morning. I didn't even get a wink of sleep because of how busy my mind was. 

Shit. I don't wan't to look at myself in a mirror but I already envisioned dark bags under my eyes. 

The taxi ride was wordless but it’s as if it’s the world itself is wordless. Even when the driver offered polite conversation, the problem is I could barely meet his eyes in the rearview mirror. My hands were clenched so tight around my phone, my knuckles ached, my eyes swollen from crying and most of all- my chest hurt intensely. A hundred thoughts ran through my mind while I was on the ride but I silenced them all. There would be no second-guessing.

No turning back.

How could they do this to.

I tried calling my dad but there was no answer. Well, what am I expecting?

When I arrived in Busan, the familiar skycrapers welcomed me like an old friend. It's really been a while and  I hadn’t been back here in years, not since my mother passed. I took another cab to Tongyeong, the quieter side of the city where my mother’s apartment still sat untouched like a photograph from the past. 

How nostalgic. I’ve just arrived yet I felt like the burden in my heart was lifted even just a little bit. The moment I opened the door, the scent hit me. Lavender and wood polish. Faint, but still there. Still her, my mother’s smell.

My past.

I stood in the middle of the small apartment, my suitcase beside me, eyes scanning everything and sighed. The old piano by the window. Her worn books on the shelves. The faded family portrait hanging crookedly above the mantle. For the first time in weeks, I let myself breathe.

“It’s been a while, Mom...”

This was my sanctuary now.

I was about to rest when a gentle knock sounded at my door. It was Aunt Molly, my mom's old friend from the neighborhood, holding a bag of food. "It's been a long time, dear," she said warmly, "I just had a feeling you might be hungry, so I brought you something."

"Thank you, Aunt Molly," I replied, a small smile touching my lips. "You haven't changed a bit; you're still so thoughtful."

She waved a hand dismissively. "You flatter me too much. Now, I won't ask a lot of questions, my dear, since I know you're tired from your travels. I'll stop by later to check on you, okay? Just get some rest, and we'll talk then."

After a grueling four-to-five-hour car ride, I collapsed onto the couch with my back screaming in pain. Drained both mentally and physically, I managed to set the food on the table before staring blankly at the ceiling. My heart was heavy but my resolve was firm. I wasn't here to grieve but to survive.

I can't believe how long I stayed in Seoul constantly trying to be someone else's ideal, losing sight of who I was and what I truly wanted.

It's pathetic how I focused solely on pleasing others.

After a short, restless sleep, I found myself wide awake later that night. I pulled old photo albums from the bookshelf with my fingers trembling as I turned pages softened by time. There I was as a child, my mother's arms wrapped around me with her laughter forever captured. Even in those still images, her eyes sparkled with warmth and mischief.

And then there was my father, Adam. Younger, happier before the bitterness crept in. Before he remarried a year after my mother’s death. In one photo, the three of us were at the Han River, ice cream cones in hand and the sun setting behind us. I remembered that day how my mother laughed when I smeared chocolate on my nose and how my father lifted me high on his shoulders.

I pressed the photograph to my chest and closed my eyes letting myself cry for the first time since I left. Now I realized that it wasn’t just Victor who broke me, it was everything, everyone. The mother I lost, the father who moved on and the marriage I fought to keep as well as the sister who stabbed me in the back.

 I wept until I had no more tears left. So pathetically cruel.

The next morning, the buzz of my phone stirred me from a dreamless sleep. I blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling, disoriented. The call was from Nicole.

Of course.

"Alisa," she chirped, her voice too bright for 8 a.m. in Seoul. "I heard you left. And oh my God, girl, the scandal? It’s everywhere."

I sat up slowly. "I’m not really in the mood, Nicole."

"Relax, I'm just checking in." The sound of chewing gum popped in the background as she continued, "Naomi hasn't shown up anywhere, not a peep. Just nothing. Word is that Aunt Clarisse told her to lay low until these blows over. Wow, Naomi? Really, I can't believe your sister did such thing."

I leaned back against the couch, rubbing my forehead. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you deserve to know, silly. And between us, I always thought Naomi was a snake, you know. Well, a pretty snake, but still." She laughed, the sound crackling through the phone.

Nicole was many things—gossipy, fickle, borderline opportunistic—but sometimes, just sometimes, her attention came in handy.

"She’s in Clarisse’s penthouse," she added. "And you know, I also knew she’s there with Victor, oops! Well, you made the right move, leaving. Just call me if you need anything, well, you know, things or money, haha, or maybe info's?"

I thanked her half-heartedly and hung up. I didn’t trust Nicole, not fully, but her information usually had some truth laced between the drama.

And an hour later, I turned on the TV while having my lunch.

The news anchor’s voice was crisp, sharp with curiosity and scandal. "In today’s headlines, Ravencroft Industries faces growing scrutiny after reports surfaced linking their youngest heir’s wife, Alisa Ravencroft to an alleged affair involving her sister Naomi Verene."

My chest tightened.

Photos flashed on the screen of me, Victor, Naomi. Private moments reduced to fodder for the masses.

"No public statement has been released by the Ravencroft family and of Verene family. CEO Dominico Ravencroft has refused to comment and even Alisa Ravencroft is nowhere to be fo--."

I turned it off and just like that, lost my appetite.

Enough.

I wasn't going to let the media shape my truth; after all, I had done nothing wrong. I curled on the couch, laptop balanced on my knees, hands hovering above the keyboard. I had rehearsed this moment a thousand times but now that it was real, the words felt heavier and the weight of whether this was the right thing to do pressed down on me.

My knowledge of him was superficial: a cold-blooded man who engaged only with what amused him. Yet, with his brother involved, my only hope was to try and make this situation entertaining, even if I lay down my pride, I’ll do it.

 Still, I searched for his email or phone number, anything I could use to contact him. When I found his contact information, I mustered my courage and typed out my message.

“I know this is unexpected, we’ve never even spoken directly and I don’t intend to waste your time. But I believe we both have a vested interest in the truth not just for the company but for the people caught in this scandal. If you’re willing to meet, just reply back and I’ll be there.

Alisa Verene

I stared at the screen for a long time before pressing send. As the email vanished into cyberspace, I sighed, the absence of the Ravencroft name beside mine feeling heavier than expected.

I leaned back, suddenly mentally exhausted.

Behind me, the apartment remained quiet. No one yelling. No footsteps pacing. No lies being whispered behind doors.

Just me.

And for the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel afraid.

"I looked forward to seeing you, Leo Ravencroft," I whispered, burying my face in my pillow to stifle the rising tears.