Joyce's days were filled with unexpected adventures. One evening, as she strolled through Homeplus supermarket just next to her apartment, Joyce found herself mesmerized by the sight of live Alaskan king crabs in a massive tank. She stood there for a long time, marveling at their size, wondering if she could actually cook one. After watching YouTube tutorials on her phone, she debated if the crab would even fit in her small apartment pots.
Just when she was about to leave the idea behind, a worker from the seafood section noticed her dilemma and offered a solution. "We steam it for you—20 minutes."
Joyce blinked in surprise. How convenient! Decision made. With the help of the worker, she picked her king crab and then wandered the aisles in search of the perfect sauce. After browsing online suggestions, she opted for wasabi sauce mixed with a little light soy sauce—a simple pairing for the feast she hadn't planned on.
That night, in the quiet of her apartment, Joyce savored the freshly steamed king crab alone. The sharp bite of wasabi with the sweetness of the crab meat brought a smile to her face. She laughed quietly, thinking about how far she had come—from awkwardly staring into the tank to enjoying a meal she never thought she'd attempt. It was a small but satisfying victory, a reminder of how beautiful it could be to embrace new things, even when they seemed intimidating at first.
Her time in Geoje continued to surprise her. On a whim one afternoon, Joyce wandered into a nearby Daiso store, bought a picnic mat along with some cute, in-season essentials, and made her way to Pebble Beach. There, she joined the locals, who seemed to relish every moment spent camping and picnicking by the shore. Sitting cross-legged on her blanket with a cup of Jin Ramen in hand, she watched as children beside her showed her a small but clever trick—using disposable chopsticks to hold down the noodle cover as it steeped. She smiled at their playful instruction, feeling an unexpected kinship with these strangers who had welcomed her into their world without the need for words.
Geoje's beauty hit her most profoundly when she hiked up Gyeryongsan. The trail was challenging but rewarding, and when she reached the top, the view took her breath away. The island stretched out beneath her, a mosaic of green hills and deep blue waters, bathed in the soft glow of the late afternoon sun. For the first time in a long while, she felt deeply connected to the world around her—small but significant, part of something vast and beautiful.
In the quiet of her apartment each evening, solitude wasn't lonely but comforting. The small space became her sanctuary, where she could worship, pray, and dive deep into scripture. Hours passed in the stillness, lost in the quiet presence of God. With each day, her heart mended a little more. In that silence, Joyce began to rediscover the woman she once was and the woman she was becoming.
As the week came to a close, Joyce felt a sense of peace she hadn't known in years. Geoje had offered her more than just an escape; it had given her space to reflect, to heal, and to reconnect with the parts of herself she had long forgotten. Each new experience—from tasting dog meat at the church lunch to savoring an entire Alaskan king crab alone over two days—became part of her journey. She realized that sometimes, the greatest adventures come when we step outside our comfort zones and simply say yes to the unknown.
A week had passed, and though Joyce hadn't planned on returning to her old life just yet, she knew it was time to check in with her parents. After a late dinner, she wandered down to the entrance of Homeplus, where a public phone stood quietly in the corner outside the main entrance. With her mobile still switched off, she dialed her home number. The conversation was brief but reassuring. Her parents, though still curious about the real reason behind her sudden getaway, were relieved to know she was safe and simply taking time for herself.
As Joyce returned to her apartment, the city lights cast a soft glow through the windows, and she found herself gazing out at the harbor. The quiet, once so soothing, now seemed to invite reflection. The peaceful rhythm of Geoje had restored something within her, but parts of her old life still lingered beneath the surface—thoughts and feelings she hadn't fully escaped, waiting to be addressed.
It was her father's mention of Hann during their call that brought those thoughts rushing back.
Hann. His name sent ripples through the stillness of her mind. She had spent the past week trying to forget him, focusing on her own healing. But now, his presence loomed again, like a shadow she couldn't quite shake. Her father had relayed the message carefully: Hann wanted her to call him back.
For a moment, Joyce stood frozen, as if time itself had paused. Yet, as she stood there in the dim light of her rented apartment, she realized something had shifted within her.
The old Joyce might have panicked—overwhelmed by the weight of Hann's message and what it could mean. But after a week of reconnecting with herself, of solitude and peace, she felt different. She wasn't rushing to conclusions or fearing what Hann's intentions might be. Instead, she felt... calm.
Sitting on the couch, her mind swirled with possibilities—ranging from the worst-case scenario to the most hopeful. But there was no urgency to act. What if he just wanted closure? Or perhaps he wanted to rekindle something? The questions were there, but they no longer stirred deep anxiety. For the first time in a long while, she felt in control of the narrative. She had the power to decide how to respond—and when.
A quiet determination settled over her. She wasn't ready to call him back yet—and that was okay. She was still healing, still finding her balance. If and when she did decide to speak to Hann, it would be on her terms. Not out of fear or confusion, but with a clear mind and a heart learning to protect itself.
Smiling softly to herself, Joyce pushed thoughts of Hann aside for now. There was no rush. She had her own path to follow, and she would continue at her own pace. Whatever Hann's message held, she would face it when she was ready.
In the meantime, there were other things to focus on, things that filled her with purpose and joy. Sitting down with her notebook, she outlined ideas for the community project she had long dreamed of. As she scribbled down notes, a sense of excitement stirred in her. This was her new chapter, and she was ready to embrace it—one step at a time.
***
Robert Chee sat in his study, staring blankly at the papers before him. The evening had left him bewildered. First, Mr. Hann, of all people, had called asking for Joyce, and then Joyce herself had phoned—calm, distant, as though the very news she once would have celebrated now meant nothing. The contrast unsettled him. For years, he’d watched his daughter chase after that elusive figure, Hann Louis of the Langford Group, admiring him from afar, working herself to the bone to prove her worth. And now... this?
He had thought that hearing from Hann would bring joy to his daughter. Instead, he had sensed reluctance—almost sadness—in her voice. He hadn’t seen her this down in years, not even when Hann had repeatedly rejected her invitations for coffee back then.
As he pondered what had happened, Rossa wandered into the room with a cup of tea in hand.
“You look troubled,” Rossa remarked as she entered, setting a cup of tea beside him, her eyes narrowing in concern.
“You’d be too,” Robert muttered, shaking his head. “Hann Louis called asking for Joyce.”
Rossa blinked in surprise. “Hann Louis? Joyce must be over the moon! She...”
“That’s the thing,” Robert interrupted, his brow furrowing. “She wasn’t. She sounded... sad.” He paused, searching for the right word. “I’ve never heard her like that. Not even when he ignored her all those years.”
Rossa’s smile faded, and she stood there quietly, thinking for a moment. She was a mother with sharp instincts, and it didn’t take long for her to speak her mind. "For her to want to get away lately, cutting ties and retreating the way she did... and now reacting this way when Hann finally reaches out? I think something’s changed between them."
Robert looked up at his wife, his expression questioning, wanting to understand more. "What do you mean, something’s changed?"
Rossa met his gaze, a slow grin spreading across her face. "I’m guessing they might end up together soon."
Robert’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief as he tried to make sense of her sudden optimism. "Soon? Like... how soon?"
Now Rossa's smile widened. "That depends on how long our daughter stays in hiding and how quickly Hann can win her over.”
Hann, if you truly want Joyce, you better not disappoint me, Rossa thought silently. She had observed this young man closely for years, ever since it became clear that her daughter had fallen for him.
Hann Louis had always been excellent—brilliant in business and impressive in every way. The ideal match for someone like Joyce, who came from a family with a rich legacy and the ever-growing Chee family business. But despite all his professional achievements, Rossa couldn't help but feel disappointed by the lack of attention he had shown their daughter. Joyce had deserved better than his aloofness, but she had never stopped hoping.
Over time, Rossa had often reflected on how good they could be together. If Hann had reciprocated Joyce's feelings, he would have made an ideal partner—someone strong enough to stand beside her, helping to navigate the complexities of both the Chee family business and life itself. Yet, Rossa had never been truly concerned. Joyce was her own person—intelligent, driven, and already displaying remarkable business acumen at such a young age. Whether or not Hann ever came around, Rossa was confident their daughter would thrive.
Still, a part of her couldn’t help but wonder.
Perhaps this sudden shift in the air between Joyce and Hann meant something was finally stirring—something neither of them had anticipated but could no longer avoid.
***
The soft hum of the cafe blended with the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore outside On The Sunset, a striking glass building perched on the edge of Geoje’s coastline. Joyce sat by the window, cradling a strawberry latte in her hands, the warmth offering a small comfort as the fading sunset washed the space in shades of gold and amber. A week of quiet retreat had helped clear her mind, but the heaviness in her heart lingered, surfacing during moments of stillness—especially when her thoughts drifted back to Hann.
Determined to shake off the melancholy, she took another sip and glanced around the cafe. That’s when she noticed a familiar face across the room. The distinct Dayak features stood out, evoking a sense of home in this foreign land. The woman sat alone, her posture strong yet relaxed, though Joyce sensed an undercurrent of tension. It took her a moment, but then the realization hit.
President Victor?
The name sent a jolt through her. Joyce's eyes widened. The resemblance was uncanny—the woman was nearly a mirror image of President Victor Langford, possessing the same commanding poise and powerful aura, but the female version.
Her thoughts were interrupted when a Korean man approached the woman's table, his smile too eager, his intentions painfully obvious. The Dayak woman’s expression remained cool, visibly unimpressed as the man attempted to charm his way into conversation. From a distance, Joyce could see irritation flash across her face, her body language growing icier with each passing second.
A wave of solidarity surged through Joyce. The discomfort was unmistakable, and she felt an urge to intervene. Rising from her seat, she walked toward the table. Just as she reached them, she overheard the woman speak, her voice low and deliberate.
"I'm not interested in men," the 'female Victor' said with an edge of finality, her lips curling into a faint smile.
The man hesitated, his smile faltering. "What do you mean?"
The woman's eyes darkened, amusement glinting in them. "I prefer women."
The realization hit the man like a brick, and his face twisted into an awkward expression. Muttering something incoherent, he quickly excused himself, leaving the woman alone once more. Joyce, having just arrived, stood frozen for a moment, processing what she had just heard.
The woman’s gaze shifted toward Joyce, her eyes locking onto her with a look of intrigue. There was no surprise in her expression, but something about the way she studied Joyce made her feel both seen and scrutinized. The annoyance from earlier had vanished, replaced by a soft, assessing smile.
"Hi," she greeted, her voice now smoother, warmer. "Were you coming to rescue me?"
Joyce smiled, her natural bubbliness kicking in despite the underlying tension. "I thought you might need some help, but... looks like you had it under control."
The woman’s smile deepened, and she gestured to the empty chair across from her. "Join me?"
Joyce hesitated briefly before nodding and taking a seat. The conversation began casually—the woman asking about Joyce's time in Korea, and how she had found the cafe—simple small talk. Yet, beneath the surface, there was something more, something unspoken. Joyce could feel it in the way the woman's gaze lingered, the way her smile curved slightly when their eyes met.
After a few moments of tentative conversation, Joyce couldn’t hold back her curiosity any longer. "Are you related to President Victor Langford from Sarawak?"
The woman chuckled. "I am his younger sister, Victoria Langford," she said, then taking a sip of her Earl Grey iced tea.
The revelation shocked Joyce. She had suspected some connection to the Langford family because of the uncanny resemblance, but a younger sister? That was unexpected. No one in Kuching’s elite circles had ever mentioned another Langford sibling.
Joyce quickly composed herself, though the surprise was still evident in her wide eyes. She extended her hand with a bright smile. "Hi, Victoria. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm from Kuching too—the Chee family."
Victoria glanced at Joyce's smooth, fair hand before breaking into a sincere smile. She took Joyce's hand respectfully, her grip firm but gentle. "What a small world. Nice to meet you too, Joyce."
Of course, she knew the Chee family. Though Victoria remained largely unseen and unknown within Kuching’s elite circles, she was well aware of the goings-on in her homeland, including the influential players behind the scenes.
As their conversation continued, Victoria’s curiosity soon turned more personal.
"You know," Victoria said, her voice soft but intent as her eyes locked onto Joyce's, "there's something about you. Something... different."
Joyce felt a slight flutter of nerves, sensing a shift in the air between them. Victoria was no longer subtle—the attraction was clear, though expressed with grace. "Different? In what way?"
Victoria leaned back slightly, her gaze steady. "You're warm. Genuine. It's refreshing."
Joyce smiled, but her heart began to beat faster. She could sense where this conversation might be headed, and she knew she had to be clear. But how to do it without hurting her?
"I try to just be myself," Joyce replied softly, her voice calm though her thoughts raced. "That's always been important to me."
Victoria’s smile deepened, and the silence that followed felt charged with unspoken tension. "I like that about you, Joyce," she said, her tone gentle but unmistakable. "And... I'm interested in you."
There it was—simple and direct, yet heavy with the weight of unsaid emotions. Joyce’s mind raced as she processed the moment, though she kept her expression composed, her smile kind. She didn’t want to hurt Victoria, but she knew she had to be honest.
"Victoria," Joyce began, her voice soft but resolute, "I appreciate your openness. Really, I do. But I need to be honest too—I’m straight."
The words lingered in the air. For a brief moment, Joyce feared she might have hurt Victoria. But instead, she saw a flicker of something in Victoria’s eyes—a mix of disappointment and understanding. Clearly, Victoria had hoped for a different response, but she respected Joyce’s truth.
Victoria let out a soft chuckle, running a hand through her hair with a resigned smile. "Well," she sighed, "I can’t say I wasn’t hoping for more. But I do appreciate your honesty."
Joyce’s heart ached for a moment, seeing the vulnerability behind Victoria’s composed exterior. She didn’t want Victoria to feel judged or rejected, and she was determined to make that clear.
"Victoria, I hope this doesn’t change anything between us," Joyce said earnestly. "I respect you, and I want you to know that you're always welcome as a friend. I’m not here to judge you."
Victoria’s eyes softened as she studied Joyce's face for a long moment. "You’re not like most Christians I’ve met," she said quietly, almost as if speaking to herself.
Joyce furrowed her brow slightly. "What do you mean?"
Victoria hesitated, then spoke with a vulnerability that surprised even herself. "Most Christians I've encountered… they see someone like me and shut me out. It's like I’m a walking sin to them. But you—you’re different."
Joyce’s heart broke a little at those words. She had heard similar sentiments before, and it pained her to think that people felt excluded from love because of who they were. "I’m really sorry you’ve felt that way," Joyce said gently. "But I want you to know something—God doesn’t hate you, Victoria. He loves you. We might not always see eye to eye, but that doesn’t mean I can’t love and respect you. That’s what He calls us to do—to love one another, just as He has loved me despite my sin."
Victoria looked away, her expression unreadable, though the vulnerability in her eyes was unmistakable. Joyce could sense the internal struggle she was facing.
"I’m not sure I believe that," Victoria murmured, more to herself than to Joyce.
Joyce didn’t push. She knew now wasn’t the time to preach or force her beliefs. Instead, she offered a warm smile. "I understand. Just... know that I’m here if you ever want to talk. About anything."
For a moment, Victoria was silent, processing Joyce’s words. Then, to Joyce’s surprise, she smiled—a genuine, unguarded smile.
"Thank you, Joyce. That means more than you know," Victoria said quietly.
The rest of the evening passed in comfortable conversation, the earlier tension slowly dissolving. Though still disappointed, Victoria seemed to relax in Joyce’s presence, appreciating the friendship and openness Joyce offered.
As they parted ways, Joyce felt a sense of peace. She couldn’t change Victoria’s feelings, but she knew that showing love and compassion was what mattered most. And as she walked along the shoreline, her heart felt lighter, knowing that perhaps, in a small way, she had helped bridge the distance between them.
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