DEAR
The married couple, Genevieve Hwang and Vincent William relocated to a vibrant neighborhood in Melbourne, hoping for a fresh start. Despite the friendly community, Genevieve's persistent hallucinations continued to haunt her. Professional help...
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A HEARTBREAKING REVELATION
It was already six in the evening when Vincent finally arrived home, surprising Genevieve with his sudden appearance at the front door.
There had been no sound of the front door opening; he had simply appeared, which struck Genevieve as odd.
In the kitchen, Genevieve was busy preparing dinner, sushi being Vincent's favorite.
Vincent walked gently down the hallway towards the kitchen, observing Genevieve as she worked.
She appeared neutral, neither particularly happy nor sad, but he could sense a hint of concern in her demeanor.
"Evie?" Vincent called out, prompting her to turn around with a smile.
"Dear," she replied warmly, "I've made dinner. Come, have a seat."
Vincent hesitated briefly before taking a seat at the dining table, which was set for two.
Genevieve sat on one side, placing plates of sushi, chicken roasted, rice, and a glass of orange juice on the table.
As she served him, Vincent seemed hesitant, unsure if he could eat the food. Genevieve noticed his unease.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her tone filled with concern. "You seem troubled."
Vincent sighed. "I'm okay," he reassured her.
Genevieve sensed that there was more to his mood than he was letting on. "I'm so happy you're home," she said gently, "but it seems like you don't share the sentiment. Is there something on your mind?"
"I am happy to be home, Evie," Vincent replied, attempting to deflect her concern. "Why don't we eat? I've really missed your sushi."
At first, Vincent appeared nervous to eat the food in front of Genevieve, but with her watching him, he had little choice.
He tentatively took a bite, surprised to find that he could taste his wife's cooking. The familiar flavors made him long for more.
"It's delicious, Evie," Vincent complimented her, and Genevieve smiled in response.
"Really? You must have been longing for my food for a long time," she remarked, pouring him a glass of orange juice, which he gladly accepted.
After dinner, Genevieve started to tidy up the kitchen while Vincent excused himself to go upstairs for a while.
As she began clearing the plates and glasses from the table, Genevieve couldn't shake the strange feeling she had when she looked at Vincent's untouched plate and drink.
She was certain he had eaten and drunk quite a lot, but the food and drink remained virtually untouched.
Feeling a sense of unease creeping over her, Genevieve glanced around the kitchen, searching for any sign of Vincent.
However, he was nowhere to be seen; he must still be upstairs.
Despite her growing worry, Genevieve decided to quickly finish cleaning up the kitchen.
She couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss, but she pushed the unsettling thoughts to the back of her mind, focusing on the task at hand.
Genevieve hurried upstairs, her heart pounding with concern as she searched for Vincent.
She called out his name several times until she reached their room, where she found Vincent standing by the window, gazing outside.
She took a deep breath, her voice filled with worry. "Vincent," she called softly. "Is something bothering you? Something you don't want to talk about?"
Vincent felt a wave of nervousness wash over him as he sighed heavily.
He shifted his gaze away from the window but still couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes.
"Please, Vincent," Genevieve pleaded, her impatience evident in her tone. "Talk to me."
Vincent hesitated, his thoughts swirling in turmoil. He knew he couldn't keep hiding the truth from Genevieve, yet the fear of her reaction held him back.
"I..." he started, his voice faltering. "I don't know how to explain it, Evie. It's... complicated."
Genevieve stepped closer, her eyes searching his face for answers. "Complicated how?"
Vincent sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I've been keeping something from you, Evie," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Something I should have told you."
Genevieve's brows furrowed with concern. "What is it, Vincent? You can tell me anything."
Vincent closed his eyes briefly, gathering his thoughts. "I... I don't know where to start," he confessed, his voice tinged with frustration. "It's about what happened to me in Busan."
Genevieve's eyes widened in surprise. "Busan? What happened there?"
Vincent opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat.
How could he explain the truth without revealing the full extent of his experience?
"It's... complicated," he repeated, his voice filled with regret. "I promise I'll tell you everything, Evie. Just not right now. Please, can we talk about this later?"
As Vincent hesitated, Genevieve felt a pang of unease deep within her chest.
It was as if an invisible hand had gripped her heart, squeezing it with a sense of foreboding.
Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she struggled to contain her emotions.
Something about Vincent's demeanor, his hesitant words, sent a wave of fear crashing over her.
Her hand trembled, her voice choked with emotion. "Vincent, please," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "I can sense that something is wrong. Please, tell me what happened."
Vincent's heart ached at the sound of Genevieve's tear-filled voice, his own emotions threatening to overwhelm him.
He knew he couldn't keep hiding the truth from her, not when she was in such distress.
Taking a deep breath, he met her gaze with a mixture of regret and resolve. "Evie, I... I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
She felt overwhelmed, tears streaming down her cheeks unabated. "I've been longing for your presence for two weeks," she confessed, her voice choked with emotion. "I cried for you, feeling alone all this time. I tried to distract myself, but thoughts of you were always there. And now that you're finally home... you have nothing with you, and your food and drink are untouched."
All of a sudden, Genevieve felt struggled to understand what was happening.
She couldn't believe Vincent was really there. It felt like a dream, too good to be true.
Vincent reached out to comfort her, but she flinched away, her mind racing with fear and confusion.
What if he wasn't real? What if he was just a trick of her imagination?
As Vincent tried to reassure her, Genevieve's panic grew.
She couldn't shake the feeling that everything was a hallucination, that none of it was real.
Tears blurred her vision as she whispered, "You're not real."
Vincent's heart sank at her words. He desperately wanted to prove his presence, but he didn't know how.
