Epilogue 4

Deviant — Epilogue 4

André de Lafayette stood with his arms crossed, his expression blank as he checked each face emerging from the arrival gate one by one.

The newly appointed chairman of the Lafayette Group, infamous for his ruthless temperament, lived a life too busy to breathe. His time was carved into minutes like an expensive commodity, used sparingly and with precision.

So who would believe that such a man had been standing behind the crowded airport barricade for over an hour, waiting for his fiancée. An open-ended wait like this was unheard of for him.

When he last spoke with Miran, he had promised to pick her up at the hotel in Midtown. But that morning, a thought suddenly struck him: Why wait until she reached the hotel?

— I miss you so much. I love you, André.

A few days ago on the phone, Miran had said those words, tightening around his heart and pushing him into motion.

Airport or hotel.

If he was picking her up, did it really make a difference?

With that neat bit of self-justification, André immediately called his secretary’s office and cleared his schedule after noon. He handled the urgent work at an inhuman pace, and at exactly 11:30, he gathered the remaining documents and left for JFK Airport.

The plane was due to land at 11:50 a.m. Since crew members usually cleared immigration quickly, he expected to see Miran by 12:30.

André glanced at his watch. It was just past 1:30 p.m.

Had something happened? A faint tension began to creep in.

This wasn’t the first time he’d waited for her.

A shabby rooftop room he once visited without warning flashed through his mind. One autumn night, he had stood beside a utility pole like a dog waiting for its owner, hoping she would appear every time the stairwell light flickered.

The darkening sky, the yellow streetlights, the smell of fall in the breeze, even the quiet whistle under his breath.

It was vivid, as if it had been yesterday.

The only person who could leave him standing endlessly and still walk away unscathed: Kang Miran.

André let out a faint, crooked smile.

Maybe it had already begun back then.

Looking back, he’d been hopelessly drawn in from the start, yet he had convinced himself it was nothing more than a passing indulgence.

Before long, a line of flight attendants in the same airline uniform Miran wore marched out in formation like soldiers. At the very end of the group, Miran appeared, eyes lowered politely as she pulled a small suitcase behind her and stepped through the exit.

His brow relaxed on its own, and the corners of his lips lifted.

The moment her full figure came into view, André inhaled sharply, as if struck in the chest. His green eyes, usually stingy with emotion, visibly wavered.

Miran walked with her shoulders straight, long legs balanced on high heels, her steps graceful and steady.

Dressed neatly in the sleek flight attendant uniform and a fascinator-style hat, she wore slightly heavier makeup than usual.

Her long hair, gathered into a smooth updo, sharpened the contours of her features. With her eyes subtly lowered under a blank expression, she radiated a cool, elegant air that seemed hard to approach.

He already knew she was beautiful. But now, with a new and unmistakably mature aura surrounding her, something inside him reacted strangely.

Just then, as if she had sensed his gaze, Miran turned her head. She was glancing around absently when she suddenly paused and looked again.

Her eyes widened when they met his. Checking the senior flight attendants ahead of her, she gave him a tiny wave. Then she bit her lower lip to suppress the smile threatening to break across her face.

André forced down a dry swallow.

His heart throbbed.

The shy smile she gave him overlapped perfectly with the image of “Michelle” from the Flushing video, the woman who had stared into the camera lens with that same alluring curve of her lips. The background noise and the bustle around them blurred away, and her face burned so sharply into his vision it almost hurt.

The illusion of being the only two people in a chaotic world shattered the moment someone called Miran’s name. She flinched and turned back to her group.

“Sorry!”

She bowed her head in apology, then pouted slightly, reluctant, before slowly moving forward with the others.

The moment their eyes met, she gestured toward her colleagues and shook her head with an apologetic expression. Even as she hurried to follow after them, she kept glancing back, sneaking in little waves whenever she could.

Watching her, André let out a dry laugh.

He had been stood up. Not exactly a first for him.

Without hesitation, André turned away and called Enzo to bring the car around.

He had forgotten what Korean workplace culture was like. It was a country where a military-style hierarchy was deeply ingrained throughout society. A new employee couldn’t simply break formation and act independently.

Failing to consider that difference was clearly his mistake. If he wanted to avoid a repeat of today, he would have to be more mindful.

Miran’s decision to leave the country she was born and raised in had been a form of sacrifice, something she endured because she wanted to be with him. André had promised her he would take a piece of her world and bring it into his. And that was one promise he intended to keep.

With a faint, self-mocking smile, André stepped out of the airport. Late March, a sharp winter wind snapped at the hem of his coat.

Enzo, waiting in the pickup area, spotted him and waved broadly. Then he lifted the brim of his hat and craned his neck, searching anxiously.

When he didn’t see Miran, his lips tightened in dismay. He glanced at André nervously, as if worried the man might start hyperventilating on the spot.

Swallowing a small sting of embarrassment, André offered a brief explanation that was very unlike him.

[…We missed each other. Let’s head to the hotel.]

Just then, his phone buzzed lightly. He climbed into the back seat as he answered. It was Miran.

She must have used the phone he had given her last winter for her trips to New York.

― André! I stepped into the restroom for a moment. I’m really sorry. I was just too flustered earlier… But didn’t you say you were coming to the hotel? My manager is swamped right now, so I haven’t gotten permission to go out yet. We have to take the crew bus soon. What should I do?

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll meet at the hotel like we planned.”

― Really? Once we arrive, I’ll just change clothes and slip out right away.

“All right.”

― Um… André?

Miran hesitated as she called him.

“Yeah.”

― How… how did I look?

He leaned his elbow against the window frame, rubbed his jaw, and let out a silent laugh.

“What do you mean.”

― You know… it was your first time seeing me in a flight attendant uniform.

After a brief pause, André answered slowly.

“You’re beautiful whether you’re wearing a uniform or not.”

There was a startled silence, followed by a small, muffled giggle.

― André, seriously… what if someone overhears you saying things like that… Yes, sunbaenim! I’m sorry! I’m coming!

She whispered urgently.

― I have to go now. I’ll see you in front of the hotel!

Then a quick smooch-like sound came through the receiver before the call cut off.

André stayed frozen for a moment with the phone still pressed to his ear. Then he dropped it to his side, leaned his head back against the seat, and closed his eyes.

“Ha.”

He loosened his tie as if the knot were choking him. Just then, he felt a sharp stare. He opened his eyes and straightened his head.

Enzo was watching him closely through the rearview mirror, eyes narrowed, ready to reroute straight to the ER if needed.

With a self-mocking huff, André turned his gaze to the bleak highway scenery and let out an exaggerated sigh, loudly enough for Enzo to hear.

—

Miran lifted the thick manila envelope.

“Yes, ma’am. Someone I know asked me to deliver these documents. May I step out to take care of it?”

The polite, softened tone she had practiced throughout training still felt awkward on her tongue.

Since André had asked her to bring the documents needed for the marriage registration, it wasn’t entirely a lie.

The manager glanced at the envelope as if she’d seen this a hundred times, then clicked her tongue.

“Once people hear you’re flying to New York, they start asking for all sorts of favors, right? When I was a rookie, even my cousin’s cousin’s cousin tried to hand me things to deliver. But if you keep saying yes, it never ends, so make sure you draw a line.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, ma’am.”

Miran bowed politely.

“Oh, right. You said you studied English in New York, didn’t you? Then I guess we don’t have to worry about you getting lost.”

“Yes, yes. I know my way around well.”

“All right, go ahead then. And dinner? We’re planning to head out together around six.”

“Ah… the person who asked me to deliver these also wants to treat me to dinner. I don’t think I can turn it down. Would it be all right if I go?”

She lowered her gaze as she asked.

Kang Miran, look at you lying so smoothly. For a moment, the faintest jab of conscience pricked her.