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"Kiara. When you have time, can we sit down and talk, please? We need to talk about the things you heard the other day. Not everything... not all of it is the truth."
"Did you give me a job because my dad asked you to? And did he offer to sell Watch to you if you did? And did you conveniently forget to tell me?"
Pain splashes all over his face.
"I thought so. I don't think we need to talk. Come to the funeral, my father would want that. But, like you did at my mother's funeral, I'd appreciate it if you tried to avoid me as much as possible."
"Kiara. Did you not hear what I said to Nathan that night? I love you. Please. I love you."
“Love doesn't fix anything that's already broken, Kylian.”
"Kiara." Nathan calls out to me from inside. "Close the door, and come inside."
forty-one
Kylian
It rains on the day of the funeral. But it doesn’t matter. Almost five hundred of us stand there by the freshly dug grave as he's lowered into it. Sending with him all the love he'd blessed us with.
Both Nathan and Kiara eulogizes in ways that typified the people they were. Nathan's was equal parts funny and adoring, speaking about this business man and philanthropist that his father was. Kiara spoke about the tender and kind man he was as tears streamed down her face.
And I stood in the back the whole time, wishing that I could comfort my best friend, and the woman who'd stolen my heart.
Taking advantage of the crowd making their way towards the Yin's backyard, I break off from the pack and down the driveway to my car. The rain has let up, but the clouds still hang heavy and gray in the sky, a fitting reflection for my heart. I can still feel the smooth mahogany under my hand as I'd placed it on his coffin, wishing that I'd had a chance to say goodbye to him in person.
"Kylian?" Kiara stands in the door of the house, watching me as I walk away.
"Kiara."
She walks towards me, each step slow and measured until she's about three feet from me. "I just wanted to say, he really loved you. From the first day Nathan brought you home, he was very impressed by you. And every time you came around, for days after, he would talk about you." A soft, sad smile plays with her lips. "I would've been jealous if I hadn't understood why he was so taken with you. Anyway, thank you for coming today. No matter everything that’s happened, it would've broken his heart if you hadn't been here. He... he wasn’t mad about us. I don’t think I ever told you that. He was hurt that we didn’t tell him’ But he wasn't sad. He loved you."
Something during her sweet speech makes the tears start to prick the back of my eyes, and when she finishes, the tears drip off my chin to join the raindrops on my suit coat.
“And I loved him. So much. I hope one day, if he’s watching, he’ll be proud of me, like he was proud of you two. Because as much as he loved me, it was a drop in the ocean compared to how much he loved you both. I hope you never ever forget that. That there are people, living and gone, who love you beyond measure.” I rush to say everything I want to, not wanting her to see me hurt.
She takes a step closer to me. “Kylian, I wan—”
“Kiara. Aunt Jenny wants to talk to you,” Nathan says as he appears. Such a knack for timing.
“Oh, okay.” She gives me a look and starts to walk toward the house.
But then Nathan speaks, stopping her in her tracks
"If you want to buy Watch, submit an offer by midnight Sunday five weeks from now. I might not have agreed with how you did it, but a deal is a deal. You gave Kiara a job. My father would've wanted me to go through with the deal. If I don’t receive your offer by the deadline, at the following board meeting I'll be putting it up for public sale. I have another buyer. And he's hungry."
Kiara turns to me. "Kylian, you should put in an offer. You want this. I know how much you love this company. Don't be stupid; put in an offer."
“I told you. This is not how I want it. Do what you need to do, Nathan. No hard feelings.”
I call her every day, multiple times a day. In the morning when I get up, at lunch, when I wait for everyone to come back to work and provide a distraction for me, in the evenings on my drive home, and before I go to bed. No matter how much I meditate, sleep eludes me. She was the only sleep therapy for me, and now I'm in withdrawal.
She never answers and it goes straight to voicemail. Sometimes I leave a message, and sometimes there's nothing to say, except the things I've said a hundred times. I don't know if she listens, but I talk anyway. Tell her about things going on with my family, about Damien and My-Linh's wedding plans, about running into my neighbors who always ask where the sweet but grumpy girl is, about silly things I've cooked and eaten, and how they'd taste better with her. I start a new K-drama and give her a little summary after every episode. And after every message, I beg for her forgiveness, for not doing better, for being the cause for her hurt, and apologize for hurting her, when I'd promised that I never would. And how that will haunt me for the rest of my life.
On the Tuesday nine days after the funeral, I reach for the phone to call her at 12:30 p.m. only to see her name blinking on my screen. My heart flip flops as I answer. “Kiara?”
It’s quiet for a moment and I wonder if she’d dialed my number by accident.
“Kiara? Are you there?”
