Epilogue 10

Deviant — Epilogue 10

⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁣⁠⁠⁠⁣⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁣⁠⁣⁣⁣⁣⁠⁠⁣⁣⁠⁠⁣⁣⁣⁠⁣⁠⁠⁣⁣⁣⁣⁠⁠⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁠⁠⁣⁠⁣⁣⁠⁣⁣⁠⁠⁠⁠⁣⁣⁠While she felt a bittersweet tug of sadness at having to leave Andre, she had spent so much energy trying to hide how sharply her physical condition had plummeted after dinner that she felt as though she might actually collapse.

If Andre noticed she was unwell, he would inevitably worry. In the worst-case scenario, he might even try to stop her from flying.

“I’m going to see if I can expedite the spouse visa process as much as possible. It should take three or four months at the most. So… just hang in there a little longer.”

Andre spoke comfortingly as they said their goodbyes in front of the hotel.

She nodded with a smile, but having dealt with a student visa before, she was somewhat skeptical. A visa was a government-granted privilege; it wouldn’t be issued any faster just because an individual was in a rush. She was already bracing herself for a long-distance marriage that could last at least a year if they were lucky, and two years at the absolute worst.

Once she successfully completed her OJT (On-the-Job Training) flight, she would finally be a full-fledged flight attendant, wearing the wing badge on the breast of her uniform. While schedules were assigned randomly—making it impossible to predict when a New York route would come up—it was possible to fly there regularly by swapping shifts with her colleagues.

That was why she had to grit her teeth and power through her OJT flight, the final hurdle of her training, no matter how sick she felt.

Miran wiped the clammy sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand as she boarded the crew bus.

After returning to Korea from New York, she had stopped taking birth control pills. She had forgotten all about them for quite a while until, just before departing for the Virgin Islands, she hurriedly bought a pack and started taking them again.

But this time, she was plagued by breakthrough bleeding and an irregular cycle she had never experienced before. And as an unmarried woman, she felt she couldn’t simply walk into an OBGYN clinic.

Frustrated, she had cautiously asked Jieun if she knew anything about such symptoms. Jieun wasn’t entirely sure either, but she recalled hearing somewhere that if the pills don’t agree with your body, they can cause side effects like irregular periods.

Manhattan blurred past the window, replaced by a highway landscape that looked much like the ones back in Korea.

Vowing to look for a different brand of birth control as soon as she got back to Korea, Miran leaned her feverish forehead against the cool glass window and closed her dry, puffy eyes.

She had always been the picture of health. Miran expected that a dose of medicine and a solid night’s sleep would be enough to have her back on her feet, good as new. But despite the rest, her body felt strangely leaden.

‘Suck it up, Kang Miran. Usually, a cold like this wouldn’t even touch you.’

She had little to rely on other than her physical stamina, which was sturdier than most, and her relentless optimism.

The OJT flight from New York back to Gimpo was a “Duty” flight, meaning she had to follow the seniors around, learn the ropes, and provide actual support. Miran had been assigned to the aft galley of the economy section, commonly referred to as the ‘EY.’ As she arranged trays and double-checked the location of supplies under the senior flight attendants’ direction, she managed to hold it together.

Passenger boarding began thirty minutes before takeoff. Propped up by the strength of painkillers, Miran discreetly dabbed away the cold sweat trickling down her temples.

“Good morning! Welcome aboard. Let me help you with that!”

She greeted them with a beaming smile and hoisted a carry-on bag into the overhead bin for an elderly woman. At that moment, a sharp pang vibrated through her lower abdomen, making her stomach churn. However, as an apprentice stewardess whose every move was being evaluated, grimacing on the aircraft was out of the question.

She continued helping passengers stow their luggage when one particular bag felt as if it were filled with bricks. As she braced her core to lift it, a wave of abdominal pain hit her, and the world began to spin.

Right then, a pair of arms reached out from behind and eased the bag from her hands. With a fluid motion, he slid the luggage into a cramped space and clicked the overhead bin shut.

“Th-thank you…”

Miran turned around and gave a polite, shallow bow. As she lifted her head, her eyes went wide.

“Oh!”

Andre looked down at her, a secretive smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“An—”

His name almost slipped out, but she caught a sharp side-eye from a senior standing nearby. An apprentice was under scrutiny for the entire duration of the flight.

“…nouncements will begin shortly! Welcome aboard, sir!”

Thinking fast, Miran had pivoted from his name to a greeting, and she let out a quiet sigh of relief. Just then, someone tapped her on the shoulder. Andre’s brow furrowed as his gaze sharpened, looking past her.

“Miss. Put this up for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Miran reached for the backpack a middle-aged man had dropped carelessly on the floor, but Andre snatched it from her hands. He shoved it into a nearby overhead bin with such force it was practically a throw.

The passenger opened his mouth to complain, but when he looked up and saw the hulking foreigner glaring down at him, he quickly averted his eyes.

Miran glanced around to check if anyone was watching, biting her lip awkwardly. She gave Andre a tiny, firm shake of her head.

By regulation, even if a family member or an acquaintance was on board, flight attendants were forbidden from acknowledging them. It was to prevent other passengers from feeling there was any bias in the service.

Wiping a stray bead of sweat from her feverish forehead, Miran forced a bright smile at Andre. Perhaps because of the fever, her mouth felt dry and her lips, coated in neat red lipstick, felt parched.

“I will guide you to your seat. Let me show, um… your seat. Can I see your ticket, sir?”

He stared at her, his eyes clouded with worry, before letting out a soft sigh. He then moved to the aisle seat of a three-chair row next to the emergency exit and sat down.

Only then did Miran finally breathe a sigh of relief. The shock of seeing Andre had made her momentarily forget the pain in her lower abdomen.

She had a million questions for him, but now wasn’t the time. She decided to wait until after the first meal service when the cabin lights would be dimmed.

When they had parted last night, he hadn’t mentioned a word about coming to Korea this weekend. It felt like receiving a surprise gift.

‘Still, Andre de Lafayette in Economy… this must be a first for him. With that build, he’s going to be so uncomfortable.’

Miran let out a silent chuckle.

Only moments ago, she had been anxious that something might go wrong. But knowing that Andre was on the same plane made her feel protected and at ease.

The hours that followed passed in a blur. She was so focused on hiding her pain and avoiding mistakes that she had no room for other thoughts.

Finally, the cabin lights went out. Half the passengers were snoring away, while the other half were engrossed in Mission: Impossible playing on the overhead monitors.

Miran had managed to earn a compliment from the manager for being “quick on her feet” and “having a head for the work.” Her effort to push through the pain and work diligently had paid off.

The manager decided she could be trusted to handle a basic water service and hurried off toward the mid-galley. This gave her the perfect opportunity to venture into the aisle alone.

She stopped in front of Andre and asked, exaggerating her pronunciation for the sake of professional flair.

“Would you like some water, sir?”

He was working on a computer that could be folded and unfolded like a notebook on his tray table. No matter how many times she saw it, a portable computer that small was a marvel.

He shook his head dismissively without even looking up, then paused. He snapped his gaze toward her. Once he confirmed Miran was alone, he leaned back against his seat and gave a slow nod.

“…Yes, please.”

For a fleeting second, Miran was reminded of the time they had practiced similar English dialogues in his study. After that particular session, she had vowed never to ask him what he wanted to eat or drink again.

Judging by the way his lips curved into a lazy, knowing smile as he held her gaze, he was remembering the exact same thing. Miran quickly scanned the area to ensure no watchful eyes were on them before handing him a pre-prepared napkin and an empty paper cup.

— Come to the galley at the back of the plane in two minutes. Bring the cup.

Andre gave a short, subtle nod after reading the message scrawled on the napkin.

The moment she stepped back into the galley, a violent shiver ran through her as if a sudden chill had taken hold. Miran pulled a painkiller from her pocket and swallowed it dry.

As she reorganized the trays, she stole a peek through the curtains. Andre was walking toward the galley. He was so tall his head nearly brushed the cabin ceiling.

Holding the paper cup, he came to a stop at the entrance. Miran grabbed a water bottle and pulled him inside.

“Andre! What on earth is going on? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Korea!”

He answered her question with one of his own.

“Are you alright? You look pale.”

He started to brush his knuckles against her cheek, then stopped. His cool palm moved up to press against her forehead.

“…You feel like you have a fever.”

“I—I don’t. It’s just because I’ve been working so hard. I’m just flushed from the heat.”

Miran pulled his hand away from her forehead, casting her gaze downward to avoid his suspicious stare. Worried he would realize how sick she actually was, she quickly went on the offensive.

“I was so shocked! Really, how could you just show up on my flight without giving me even a tiny hint?”