Mary Lou glanced away, running her fingers through her hair as she processed the weight of my presence. The years melted away, replaced with a desperate yearning for answers. Every dollar she had sent back was a reminder of her absence, but now I sought to uncover the truth behind the life she had built here, far from home.
“Let’s sit down,” she offered finally, her tone softening. We settled on the couch, the air thick with unasked questions. “I understand why you came, and I know I owe you an explanation.”
“What happened to you, Mary Lou?” I asked gently, trying to mask the fear in my heart. “You used to call. You used to send pictures. What is this life you’re living?”
Taking a deep breath, she looked me in the eyes. “When I moved here, everything was so different. I felt lost, and soon I found myself drowning in expectations. Kang Jun was a successful businessman, and I thought marrying him would make life easier. The money came quickly, but so did the isolation.”
I leaned forward, absorbing her words. “Was it always like this? Were you unhappy?”
“Initially, no,” she replied, her voice softening. “I was in love with the idea of my new life, but soon after our marriage, Kang Jun became less of a partner and more of a figurehead. He worked late, and I rarely saw him. I found myself lonely, surrounded by wealth that felt empty.”
“Didn’t you ever think about coming home?” I asked, still hoping for a glimmer of that daughter I remembered.
“I wanted to, Mom. I really did. But it became harder with every passing year. I thought sending money would suffice. I thought I could keep you safe at home while I tried to figure everything out.”
Tears welled up in my eyes again. “But the money can’t replace years of your life. I only wish I knew you needed me, that you were struggling. We could have faced it together.”
Her tear-filled eyes echoed my own anguish. “You don’t understand how suffocating it can be here. Everyone feels the weight of expectations. I didn’t want to burden you with my troubles.”
As emotions swirled, I grasped her hand in mine tightly. “You’re my daughter. You could never be a burden. I should’ve reached out more, but I thought you were thriving.”
Just then, Hana re-entered the room, bringing with her cups of steaming tea—a small gesture of comfort. She placed them down delicately on the coffee table and offered a reassuring smile to both of us. “Would it be alright if I joined you?” she asked tentatively.
Mary Lou looked at me, and I nodded. “Of course, Hana.” She had been a constant in Mary Lou’s life, and her presence felt important. “How did you meet?”
Hana settled into the armchair across from us, her demeanor calm and inviting. “We met at work. Mary Lou started at the company where I was already employed. She brought light into the office, always smiling, ready to help. It was during those early months that we developed a bond.”
“She helped me adjust to life here,” Mary Lou added. “I often felt like a stranger in a strange land, and Hana helped me navigate that.”
