Page 106 of That Prince is Mine
“How long has she been like this?” Auntie Soo whispered to her dad.
They were both standing at the entrance to the kitchen, looking down at her crouched form with worried eyes. But Emma couldn’t spare them more than a quick glance. She was busy.
Shaking her head to clear the fog from it, Emma returned to mixing the kimchi with both her hands. Her thighs burned from crouching in front of the giant stainless steel mixing bowl on the floor. You had to make kimchi on the kitchen floor. The massive mixing bowl barely fit on the counter, and it was hard to dig in your hands properly when the bowl was elevated. Her arms burned, too. She actually ached everywhere. She hadn’t been sleeping. Or eating. Or feeling. Not feeling was her main priority. That required her not to think—which in turn required her to stay busy. Busy, busy, busy.
“Too long,” her dad answered in a low, sad voice. “I thought she just needed some time, but this has been going on for three days now.”
“Oh my. It’s a good thing I stopped by.” Auntie Soo stepped closer to Emma. “You need to stop cooking and cleaning, child. You’re going to wear yourself down to the bones.”
“Yes, baby girl,” her dad added gently. “Why don’t you go have a seat? You’ve been in the kitchen for hours. Days, really.”
“Almost done.” Emma clicked shut the fourth container of kimchi—this one was chonggak kimchi with little white radishes and long green stems. She’d already made baechu kimchi with napa cabbage, ggakdugi with squares of chopped white radishes, and oi sobagi with cucumbers and chives. “I just want to make sure we don’t run out of kimchi for the next few months.”
“You made enough to last us a year. Please be reasonable,” her dad pleaded. “We don’t have any more room in the refrigerator. Even the freezer is full from the mandu and bulgogi you made two days ago.”
“You need to stop this instant.” Her godmother towered over her with her fists on her hips. Emma had enough sense left to be scared into compliance. “Your dad is worried sick.”
“Let me just put this away,” she croaked.
Emma had been determinedly cheerful as she cooked nonstop for the last three days. Every time she stopped from pure exhaustion, her heart beat out a frantic, erratic beat and panic built in her stomach. Her dad had been patient, giving her all the room she needed. But it seemed she had run out of time.
Emma put the chonggak kimchi in the kimchi refrigerator, pulled off her rubber gloves, and untied her apron. After folding the apron into a neat square and placing it on top of the counter, she trudged out to the living room and sat down on the couch. She stared blankly at the wall, fighting back feelings.
“Soo, thank you for getting her out of the kitchen,” her dad said from the hallway. “I think I need to do this one on my own. I… I need to talk to my daughter.”
“Of course, Jae. Please let me know how it goes.” Her godmother paused to sniffle. Was she crying? Emma only felt mild regret. “And I’m here for you and Emma anytime you need me.”
“I know, old friend.” His voice was thick with emotion, too. Had she made both of them cry? It was hard to take in, so she ignored it. After clicking the front door shut, her dad came to the living room and sat down beside her. “Emma, I know it’s hard, but I need you to tell me what happened. This can’t go on.”
“Michel…” She forced herself to breathe. “We broke up.”
“I gathered as much.” Her dad dragged a hand down his face. “But there’s more.”
“Yes, a lot more,” Emma agreed. “You know how I started going on matseons with the men that Auntie Soo handpicked for me?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I thought letting her match me up with someone who has a lot in common with me—someone perfect on paper—was the key to a safe, stable marriage.” She glanced down at her hands. “Marrying for love seemed like a foolish risk. I… I didn’t want what happened with you and Mom to happen to me.”
“Oh, Emma.” Her dad tugged her into a hug. “I’m so sorry we made you think that way. I think your mom and I messed up by telling you we split up because of incompatibility.”
“What do you mean?” She pulled back to look at him.
“Irreconcilable differences seemed like such a generic, harmless reason to give you. I realize now how much harm it actually caused.” He shook his head, regret shadowing his eyes. “Emma, your mom and I were… What was it you said? Perfect on paper. It wasn’t a lack of common ground that drew us apart, but a lack of unconditional love.”
“I don’t understand.” Her brows knitted together.
“You and I… we never came first to your mom. When push came to shove, she chose her work over us without fail.” Her dad sighed. “Her career had always been important to her. I married her knowing I would always come second—that I would never have all of her. But I loved her and thought it would be better to have a part of her than none at all.
“Then you came along, and I watched your mom make you promises she couldn’t keep. It broke my heart to watch you search for her in the auditorium every time she missed one of your school recitals. Your mom and I fought more and more. I couldn’t stand by while she hurt you time and time again.
“And it wasn’t only you. I realized I was tired of being second best. I wasn’t happy with having just a part of her anymore. I finally asked her to choose family over work—at least most of the time—but she just couldn’t. Her career was too important to her.” Her dad grasped both of Emma’s hands. “We decided to tell you we were incompatible so you wouldn’t think the divorce was in any way your fault.”
Of course. She blew out a shaky breath as the puzzle pieces clicked into place and she saw patterns she’d refused to see before. It all made sense. If she’d wanted to, her mom could’ve had a real relationship with her instead of an obligatory annual Christmas call. It wasn’t like she stayed away because she was incompatible with her own daughter. Her mom just had no space for her. Emma thought she’d come to terms with her absence a long time ago, but this clarity gutted her a little.
“Your mom loves you in her own way,” her dad said gently.
“But she loves her career more,” Emma bit out.
