Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made || Jenlisa Adaption

Chapter 10

(August 13th, 2024.)

She dreads it the whole month.

She tries to ignore it, to take on more cases at work, she does a few pro bono ones to fill her free time, she takes Tae shopping for clothes she doesn't need, and then does the same for herself.

Anything to stop thinking about it.

And it works, for a while.

When the day arrives, she wakes up, goes through her morning routine, as usual, drives to work, and makes some calls like everything's normal. She doesn't remember that it's that date until she's having lunch at the McDonald's close to her workplace.

And once she knows, once she remembers, the salad almost comes back up.

One year. An entire fucking year since her life fell apart.

Today a year ago she was pregnant, and she lost her baby. (It's easier to think the words, ever since she started seeing Seulgi, but the feeling never ceases to wreck her like a punch to the sternum.)

She staggers out of the fast food joint, meeting the sunlight outside with squinting eyes and a thick knot in her throat. She can't stop time, or control the weather. Lisa looks around and realizes that the world keeps turning, merciless, even when she feels like she has been left behind.

A year. It's been a year.

She walks to the nearest bar.

The sound of her cell phone ringing breaks through the haziness of her thoughts.

It's almost dark outside. It's a good hour since the bartender refused to serve her any more alcohol. And her phone is ringing.

"Lisa?"

Lisa smiles wistfully. She hasn't spoken to BamBam in such a long, long time. They were friends. Are they still friends? He asked her a question.

"Huh?"

"I'm outside," BamBam says. "Can you walk?"

It's a funny question. Lisa thinks so, because she laughs. She has legs, of course, she can walk. But when she stands up to prove her theory the world tilts sideways so violently she has to grasp the counter to stay on her feet.

"Ah...I don't think so," she tells her phone. BamBam. She thinks she hears him sigh. There's a beep from the cellphone. She pulls it away from her ear. The screen is dark. It takes her a second to understand that he closed the call.

She sits back down on her stool.

She's not worried about the fact she can't really walk or stand up straight. Right now, she's not worried about anything. She can't remember ever being worried, either. It's like she's never felt a bad thing, never known darkness or pain or fear. Her chest bubbles up with laughter, and she's not sure why, but she lets it out.

And then there's a warm hand on her shoulder.

"Lisa."

She shakes her head. She knows he came to take her away, take her back. She's not sure back to where, but she knows she doesn't want to go there. It's on the edges of her mind — how it feels to be lonely.

"Let's go home," he says, taking a hold of her, but she pushes him away.

"I'm...fine," she slurs, her tongue a sluggish thing. She might not feel like laughing anymore, but at least she feels empty. Empty is better than overflowing with pain. Lisa doesn't even want to look at him, he reminds her of before, puts it at the forefront of her mind, exactly what she doesn't want to think about.