“Taengoo? What are you doing? Cooking?”
“No, I’m making tea,” I told her.
Jessica nodded. “Ah, ok … can I take that as reflective of how the meeting went?” she surmised, itching to ask for specifics but at the same time hesitant.
“Yeah, it didn’t go as well as I hoped,” I admitted, unwilling to reveal any more than what Tiffany might be comfortable with, trusting Jessica to pick up on this. “You should’ve been there though, the food was really fancy—oh wait, did you ever eat with Tiffany’s family before?” The inquiry spawned another pang of guilt, a reminder of my hard-working parents and their daughter who was just relaxing at home. I pushed it to the side, not wanting to show Jessica that side of me.
“Yeah,” she replied simply, probably conscious due to the nature of the question. I could understand: I was asking an ex of my girlfriend, even if she was my best friend, about her past with said girlfriend.
Actually, now that I thought about it, our whole situation was incredibly bizarre: Tiffany and I were best friends in our childhood, but we got separated after my family suddenly moved to Korea. Next, Tiffany and Jessica became friends and eventually a couple, but then they got separated when Tiffany suddenly moved to Korea. A few years later, I became friends with Jessica, both of us unknowingly having the common link of having known Tiffany. Some time afterwards, I was reunited with Tiffany and eventually became her girlfriend.
It really was extraordinary, how things worked out: a situation like this seemed like a good plot line for a drama. Maybe I should get into creative writing…
“We didn’t really eat out much since Tiffany’s dad was busy most of the time. I would eat out with her—uh, actually, never mind.”
That piqued my interest. I wanted to press the subject, but judging from her tone, I knew Jessica wouldn’t want me to ask further questions. Still, that didn’t stop me from filling in the blanks for her: from context clues, it sounded like she was about to say, “with her mom”, but it would also make sense if she said, “with her siblings” or “with her friends”.
“Did you eat yet?”
“Uh-huh. I just made myself some ramen,” she said.
Just as I was about to scold her, knowing from being her roommate how often she turned to that as her de-facto meal, Tiffany piped in. “Oh, is that Jessi?”
Tiffany appeared behind me, looking at the phone I propped up against the wall. I was surprised to see Tiffany having recovered so quickly: the only trace of her crying just a few moments ago was her slightly red eyes that were only visible through close inspection.
“Oh, hey Tiff,” she greeted, still sounding a bit awkward.
Tiffany, noticing this, smiled. “What’s up, stranger? Why are you being so awkward?” Her smile had returned back to its radiant, beaming quality, again reminding me why I fell in love so quickly with this woman.
Jessica grinned sheepishly. “Ah, so you noticed?”
“It’s hard not to notice,” Tiffany retorted. I nodded in agreement: even I could tell.
“Ah, I mean, I still feel a little bad, honestly,” she replied, “Especially since the meeting didn’t seem to go well.”
“It’s ok, it’s not your fault,” she said dismissively, snaking her arms around my waist and resting her chin on my shoulder. I only jumped a little when she did so, a fact I was extremely proud of.
“Well, actually, you could technically say that it was my—”
“Jessi, I’m going to just say this one more time,” Tiffany cut Jessica off firmly, leaning forwards, inadvertently pressing her chest against my back. I held my breath, hoping that my embarrassment wasn’t showing on my face. “I won’t have you apologize for that—for my father.”
Jessica chuckled, nodding her head obediently. “Alright, I won’t,” she recited, as if an elementary schooler to her teacher.
Tiffany eased up, leaning back and reclaiming my shoulder with her head.
“Uu-wah, look at you two lovebirds. I’m not going to intrude anymore, I’ll get going. See you Taeyeon, see you Tiffany!”
She only permitted us a few seconds to return her farewell before hanging up.
“Ah—why’d she hang up so quickly?” I murmured, checking up on the teapot again.
“Do you really not know?” Tiffany inquired, leaning forward and around to look at me. I shook my head, frowning, searching Tiffany’s face for an answer, finding nothing indicative. “Well, I mean,” she continued, returning again to her previous state. Wow, Tiffany’s cheek was really soft … “isn’t she single? Who would want to talk to a couple when they’re like this?”
“So it’s your fault,” I said accusingly, looking at her.
Tiffany pouted. “What, am I not allowed to hug my girlfriend?”
I sighed and looked away. “I mean … wait, did I ever tell you that she was single?”
I honestly couldn’t remember; maybe I would’ve mentioned it in passing? It wasn’t that important—well, to Jessica personally it was probably important—but for whatever reason, I couldn’t get over it.
“Oh, you wouldn’t have to tell me,” she said casually, stilling hugging me from behind, “Call it a gut feeling … a feeling that she has a specific reason to not have dated anyone, or maybe because she’s been waiting for someone.”
“Wow, you two knew each other really well, huh?” I pondered.
“I wouldn’t cite that as the reason behind my intuition,” she replied.
“Why won’t you just tell me~” I whined, grabbing her hands and pouting at her.
Tiffany giggled and just tapped my lips. “Even if you use your cuteness like that, I won’t tell you. It’s not for me to say.”
I sighed. There were always times like this when I was talking about Jessica to Tiffany and she would always say something suspicious like that. Every time I would ask her to clarify, and every time she would just defer to Jessica; however, even if I asked Sica about it, she would either downplay it or give an answer that I felt wasn’t what Tiffany was hinting at.
After the tea was ready, I poured it into two cups and brought it back into our living room. Tiffany eyed the door as we passed it, as if expecting someone; it happened for only a split second, but I just so happened to notice the action.
“My parents said they wouldn’t be home—” I cut myself off, just now realizing why Tiffany would’ve been apprehensive at the beginning to meet my parents, “—until later today.”
Tiffany nodded, sitting down on the couch. “Ah, ok. I wanted to ask them something, just for my own peace of mind,” she said, pausing briefly in contemplation before continuing, “Actually, honestly, I’ve sort of been scared to meet them for the fear that they would recognize me and put me in a situation where I would have to expose my lie unprepared. It feels nice to not have to worry about that anymore; in fact, I want to greet them again. Is it alright if I come by after work?”
I nodded eagerly. “I’ll come pick you up,” I said, my excitement inadvertently causing me to rush in my speech. “Your question though … is it regarding the reason I suddenly left America?”
Tiffany nodded. I figured that question was on her mind, and honestly, it was on mine as well since learning what Tiffany revealed to me: it was the impetus, of sorts, to all of this. “I don’t really know … the only thing I remember is waking up one day—I think it must have been a Saturday or something—and suddenly being told that we’re moving to Korea. I also remember being really shocked and sad; I asked my parents about it once when I was younger and they told me it was for their work, which by nature is very private, so that was really all I needed to hear.”
Tiffany shifted next to me, grasping my hand, studying the back of it while tracing random patterns on it lightly with her index finger. “I’m pretty sure our parents were coworkers as well as good friends back then, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one that pressured your parents to move out of the country. Your saying that your parents work is private sort of strengthens that idea to me, but I don’t just want to jump to conclusions.”
Although the implications of her statement still hinted at animosity towards her dad, Tiffany’s unwillingness to make the leap of faith in logic to pin the blame on him reassured me. “Oh, so you’re making progress already!”
Tiffany stopped, turning her head to look at me. “What? To what?”
Admittedly, that cut me short. “To … um…” I became less and less sure of myself as I spoke, Tiffany’s face morphing into that of confusion, “…to forgiving your dad?” By the end of my sentence, it was evident on her face that she had no intentions of doing what I had just said. “Well, I mean, he’s family,” I stammered, now feeling guilty for having brought up the proposition.
Tiffany smiled gently. “Taeyeon, you’re too nice. Maybe someone like you would be able to find it in yourself to forgive him, but not me. I don’t need him anyway, I just need you,” she said, clasping my left hand with both of hers.
I felt a wave of embarrassment flare up. “Ah, don’t say cheesy things like that,” I said in fake disgust, tugging at my hand, my attempt to reclaim my hand failing, “my fingers are curling so much, look,” I presented Tiffany my free hand, fingers pressed against themselves.
“Whaat? It’s true! After today, I can confidently say that I no longer have anything else to lie to you about,” she said, pulling my arm onto her stomach and leaning on me, resting her head on my shoulder.
I looked away, hoping Tiffany would just chalk it up to embarrassment. In reality, it was another wave of guilt that caused me to do this, untrusting of my own face to not give it away. Was I a bad person for withholding my ‘truth’, my backstory to her? I had every intention to tell her, but … at that moment, sitting there with Tiffany who was resting on my shoulder with such content, and in addition to all the emotional stress she had to deal with already today … maybe today wasn’t the best time to tell her.
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