Eternally Yours

Whispers and curious glances followed Hana and Ren as they exited the main hall. Hana, despite her heart thundering in her chest, focused solely on the increasing pressure of Ren’s grip on her hand. The long hallway stretched before them, finally ending in a set of imposing double doors.

The doors swung open with a soft creak, revealing a room bathed in a soft glow. Elegant floral arrangements adorned the corners, adding a touch of warmth to the otherwise sterile space. Hana’s eyes immediately flickered to the flower displays.

Then, she saw her. All the fake smiles and poses were gone.

Mrs. Jenkins, sat beside a glass table, a half-empty champagne flute clutched in her hand. Her gaze swept over Hana, a flicker of icy indifference crossing her face before settling on Ren. For a fleeting moment, something unreadable flickered in her eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

Before any words could be exchanged, Mrs. Jenkins set down her glass with a click that echoed. Her lips curved into a tight smile, a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Excuse us,” she said to Hana, her voice dripping with forced politeness. “I would like to speak with my son… privately.”

The dismissal was clear, a subtle jab disguised as a courtesy. Instinctively, she reached out to pull her hand free, only to find Ren’s grip tighten around hers.

“Whatever you want to say, say it,” Ren challenged, his voice low.

Mrs. Jenkins scoffed a sharp, humorless sound. “Very well then.” With a theatrical sigh, she settled back in her chair, her perfectly manicured nails tapping a sharp rhythm on the glass table.

Ignoring Hana completely, “I spoke with Audrey,” she began, “and I’ve arranged a second meeting for the two of you.”

Ren cut her off, his jaw clenched tight. “That won’t be necessary.”

Hana could feel the anger radiating from him, a stark contrast to the composed facade he usually maintained.

She understood now. This wasn’t just about social obligations; it was about control. Something she was very well familiar with.

His mother, however, remained unfazed. “The Holding family has been a close supporter of our business ventures for years, Ren. I simply ensured a continuation of that relationship.”

She glanced at Hana with disdain, a silent reminder of her perceived insignificance.

Ren had reached his breaking point.

“Stop,” Ren growled, his voice thick with frustration. “Does my opinion even matter in this?”

Mrs. Jenkins’ lips curled into a humorless smile. “This is what’s best for the family, Ren. Don’t be dramatic.” She asserted, her voice leaving no room for argument.

“I knew I shouldn’t have come,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. Something flickered in his eyes as he glanced at Hana, a silent apology for dragging her into this mess.

“There you go again, turning this into a big argument over nothing,” Mrs. Jenkins scoffed, completely dismissing his feelings.

“Nothing?” Ren repeated, incredulous. “Mother, you call this nothing!” He looked at her, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and hurt.

He looked around the room, his gaze finally settling on Hana. Seeing the silent plea in her eyes, the fear mirrored in her face, seemed to solidify his resolve.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he finally declared, his voice hoarse with frustration. “Hana let’s go. Before I say something, I’ll regret later.”

Ren grasped Hana’s hand tightly, his fingers digging into her palm, and stormed out of the room.

Ren’s pace was relentless, his jaw clenched tight. He ignored Jiro’s boisterous calls, his laser-sharp focus on getting away from the suffocating mansion and his overbearing mother. Hana, her heels clicking an increasingly uneven rhythm on the polished floor, struggled to keep up.

He just needed to get out, away from the gilded cage and the suffocating expectations.

The elegant stilettos that had felt glamorous earlier became cruel instruments, digging into her unaccustomed heels and threatening to twist her ankles.

Just as she envisioned a less-than-graceful exit, a jolt of pain ripped through her knee. Her cry of surprise pierced the air, and Ren, as if jolted awake, finally stopped.

He whirled around, his anger momentarily eclipsed by concern as Hana stumbled. In a flash, he was at her side, catching her before she could hit the ground. Their eyes met, his stormy with repressed fury, hers wide with pain and a touch of fear.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

At that moment, Hana saw beyond the elegant facade she had been presented with. Her eyes trail down to the hands that had caught her.

Shame washed over Ren in a tidal wave. He had been so lost in his frustration that he hadn’t even noticed the woman by his side, the woman he’d dragged into this familial warzone.

He glanced down at his hands, still clenched and trembling.

“Shizumi, are you okay?” he asked, his voice gruff with unspoken apologies.

Hana winced, her face pale. “I think I twisted my ankle,” she managed, her voice a mere thread.

Hana, her face contorted in a grimace, could only manage a shaky nod. As she attempted to put weight on it, a fresh wave of pain sent a hiss escaping her lips. He understood. Ren, wasting no time, gently removed his blazer and draped it around her shoulders.

“Let me help,” he said softly.

Hana, confused and a little overwhelmed, wasn’t sure what help entailed until she felt him scoop her up into his arms. A gasp escaped her lips, and she instinctively tightened her grip around his clothing.

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Don’t worry,” he reassured her, his voice close to her ear. “I won’t let you fall.”

Her initial panic morphed into a reluctant trust as she secured her arms around his neck.

With surprising ease, he carried her through the sprawling garden paths, the gravel crunching softly beneath their feet. The initial burst of anger had dissipated, replaced by a quiet determination and a growing concern for the woman he had unwittingly dragged into his family drama.

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Ren broke it, his voice laced with regret. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

He sighed deeply, a sound that spoke volumes of past battles and present exhaustion. “The last time I was here… I said I wouldn’t come back. But here I am.”

His words struck a chord deep within Hana. They mirrored her unspoken thoughts, her escape from a stifling past, and the ever-present fear of being dragged back. They echoed her unspoken vow, the one she made the night she fled her suffocating situation.

Finally, the hum of a car engine replaced the quiet, comforting sound that signaled escape. Ren’s phone buzzed persistently throughout half the car ride, a constant reminder of the world they’d left behind. He ignored it resolutely.

Hana, despite the throbbing pain in her ankle, remained quiet, her gaze fixed out the window. She didn’t pry about the unanswered calls, sensing Ren’s need for silence.

The car slowed, pulling into a parking lot unfamiliar to Hana. She glanced at him, a question in her eyes. She watched with a confused frown as he emerged from the vehicle and hurried towards her side.

“My place,” he said simply. “To take care of your ankle.”

Hana offered a silent nod, a flicker of surprise crossing her features. He exited the car first, then carefully scooped her into his arms again. They navigated the elevator, the soft hum its only sound, and walked down a hallway lined with closed doors. Finally, Ren stopped in front of one, his key unlocking it with a soft click.

The apartment that greeted them was a stark contrast to the opulent mansion they’d left behind. It was comfortable, furnished with a mix of modern and traditional pieces that spoke of practicality and lived-in comfort. Ren gently settled her onto a plush armchair, his movements surprisingly gentle for a man who moments ago had been a storm of anger.

He disappeared into the kitchen, reappearing a moment later with a bag of ice and a first-aid kit.

“Once I take care of this,” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind, “I’ll take you home. But you need to get it checked out at the hospital tomorrow.”

As he elevated her knee, she couldn’t help but notice the tension lingering in his shoulders and the stiffness in his movements.

Gathering her courage, she blurted out softly, “Are you okay?"

She almost slapped herself for asking such a stupid question. Of course, he was not okay, not after the night they had.

Ren paused, his hands still on her ankle. His eyes met hers, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before it was replaced by a guarded expression. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, his jaw tightening. Was it pity? Concern? Or something more?

“I’m fine," he finally said, his voice gruff. But Hana could see the lie etched in his eyes.

Lost in the quiet rhythm of his movements, a memory flickered at the edges of her mind. A memory of a voice, a voice calling her name in anger, a voice that sent shivers down her spine… but a voice that inexplicably sent a warmth blooming in her chest.

The voice, rough with emotion, had spoken her name: “Hana.”

The sound of it, even laced with anger, sent a blush creeping up her cheeks. A shy smile tugged at her lips as she replayed the word in her head. ‘Hana’.

He’d called her Hana then, not “Nurse Shizumi.”

Just then, Ren’s voice broke the trance. “Nurse Shizumi?” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

A blush burned across Hana’s cheeks. Busted. “Yes, Dr. Jenkins,” she stammered, flustered.

“I need to take this call,” he continued. “I’ll be right back.”

Ren picked up the phone, a resigned sigh escaping his lips as he headed towards an adjacent room, the click of the closing door.

Hana was left alone, the silence of the apartment settling around her. She glanced down at her ankle, the throbbing pain a dull ache now thanks to the ice.

******************************

Ren winced as he pressed the phone between his ear and shoulder, his movements stiff as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his cuffs. “From the way you stormed out with poor Hana,” Jiro’s voice crackled through the receiver, laced with amusement, “I can tell that the talk was a disaster?”

“Jiro,” Ren growled, his voice strained, “Nothing will ever make me step foot in that place ever again.”

“Alright, alright,” Jiro chuckled. “I’ll stop trying to lighten the mood. But Ren, you know you can’t run from this forever.”

“I can damn well try,” Ren muttered, his voice laced with defiance.

“Rowan called me earlier,” Jiro continued, “said he couldn’t reach you and I told him you’d already left. So, he and Lia decided to skip out on the party altogether. But are you okay, cuz? I could come over and we could…”

“Don’t come,” Ren interjected abruptly, his voice sharp with a sudden urgency.

Jiro’s playful tone vanished, replaced by suspicion. “Okay, whoa. What are you hiding?”

“Nothing,” Ren lied unconvincingly, his heart pounding against his ribs.

Silence stretched between them for a tense moment before realization dawned on Jiro. “Don’t tell me,” he said, his voice rising in surprise, “she’s at your place, isn’t she?”

Ren didn’t answer, and the silence was a deafening confirmation. He wasn’t in the mood to explain or justify his actions, not even Jiro. “Bye, Jiro,” he muttered, his finger hovering over the red button.

“Ren, wait!” Jiro protested, but the line went dead before he could finish his sentence.

Ren sighed, the weight of the evening pressing down on him. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration twisting his features. A notification buzzed on his phone, a text message blinking on the screen. He glanced down, his eyes widening at the message.

“I know you are a doctor but forget about the protection and give my aunt a stroke by giving her a grandchild.”

Disgust and anger bubbled within him. He tossed the phone onto the bed, the absurdity of the message fueling his already frayed nerves. The last thing he needed right now was a mental picture of himself and Hana… like that.

He wasn’t sure what the future held, but one thing was clear – his carefully constructed life had taken a sharp turn, and Hana was right in the middle. He wasn't sure if he was pleased with that.

He pushed his feet to the door, needing to clear his head and check on his unexpected guest.