The Cygnus

Chapter 13

When Lisa was seven years old, she lived in a small village called Cudillero. She loved it there. She would chase chickens, watch over cows, and go to the beach whenever she wanted because it was so close. But most of all, she cherished the moments when her papa would give her a piggyback ride home, her limbs too exhausted to move from all the playing. As he walked, he would tell her stories, and since she always asked why the moon followed them, her papa would comment on how beautiful the stars were, especially the constellation Cygnus. It looked like a cross in the sky but was actually a swan, as her father explained.

He told her the tale of loyalty and devotion—a story about Cygnus diving into the river again and again to retrieve the body of his friend Phaethon. For a seven-year-old, the story was both beautiful and simple. Her father would metaphorically relate it to himself, saying that just like the swan, he would continuously dive for her in the water. But some memories stay only as they are; at the end of the day, while this may be her sweetest memory of her father, it is also the most heartbreaking story to tell, for what he promised her eventually turned into knives that stabbed her in the chest.

Now that she's twenty-five, it's funny how she views the swan as the fool of the century. Why did he continuously search for someone who was already dead? Why did he fearlessly dive into the unknown? What a fool Cygnus is, relentlessly searching for a lost loved one, unable to let go, clinging to the memory of what once was—such foolishness.

So much foolishness. She hates it. After all the denial and avoidance, she has become just like the swan, searching for answers or connections in places where they no longer exist. She feels trapped in a cycle of longing. Lisa loathes the swan because it mirrors her so closely.

She is too good for this world, carrying too much love, only to end up getting hurt the most. Her mom told her it was her kind heart that would lead her to her demise, and now Lisa can see her mother's point.

That's why her mother was strict and firm with her; it was her way of protecting her.

And now that she has opened her heart to someone, it feels like a ticking time bomb, waiting for the next pain to haunt her. "Niki, why is pain inevitable?" she asked her cousin, her voice barely above a whisper, as her eyes remained locked on the twinkling stars. They were nestled in the gazebo, their backs pressed against the soft picnic blanket, the gentle rustle of leaves above them creating a serene backdrop. After an exhausting day of family interactions and feasting, they could hardly move, the weight of their full bellies and the light buzz of alcohol swirling in their systems.

Reggaeton and salsa played softly in the background, the rhythmic beats a lively contrast to their introspective moment. Niki shifted her head, her smooth dark ebony hair brushing against Lisa's arm as she turned to face her cousin. "Probably to keep balance? Like yin and yang," she suggested, her tone thoughtful, as she gazed up at the constellation-studded sky.

"Was it hard?" Lisa pressed, her brows furrowing slightly in contemplation.

"What's hard?" Niki asked, tilting her head, curiosity dancing in her dark hazel eyes.

"To keep choosing to love every day, even on your worst days, through your fears and losses," Lisa replied, her voice tinged with vulnerability, her fingers nervously tracing the outline of the blanket.

"I had to," Niki replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "It became a habit—instinctual, like you just have to assume the best because you love." She met Lisa's gaze, her expression earnest, as if trying to impart a secret knowledge.

"Is it still love if a person doesn't choose you?" Lisa asked, her voice laced with doubt, her heart sinking at the thought.

"Sacrifice and letting go are also forms of love—a protective love," Niki explained, her voice steady, as she shifted closer, the warmth of her body providing comfort against the cool night air.

"Is it still protecting if you're hurting that person?" Lisa's voice cracked slightly, a mix of hope and despair swirling within her.

"Lili, not every love weighs the same," Niki said gently, placing a reassuring hand on Lisa's shoulder. "Sometimes, they have to choose, and if that love doesn't choose you, then it's not meant for you to have it."

"Why? Why not reciprocate it back?" Lisa's voice rose slightly, frustration creeping in as she looked away, her gaze lost in the shimmering stars.

"Because love is an exchange," Niki replied, her tone firm yet soft. "You have to love in the same way the other loves you. It doesn't work if one person gives too much and the other gives too little; they will only end up getting hurt. That's why we have love that needs to let go."

"Then my hunches are right. Papa never loved me the same way I loved him because it was too easy for him to get rid of me," Lisa murmured, her voice heavy with realization. "It's the same with the person I like who rejected me, and why Song couldn't fully pursue me—it was always too much on my side and too little on theirs."

"Oh, Lili..." Niki sighed, her heart aching for her cousin. She moved closer, wrapping her arms around Lisa in a comforting embrace, the scent of lavender from her cousin's shampoo enveloping them both. "Giving too much isn't bad, but leave something for yourself. Give your pieces wisely. We are made to love and be loved, you know? It's true—humans are wired that way. That's why it's so easy to give love, but sometimes circumstances mess us up, and we become reserved. That doesn't mean we're not capable of loving."

"You can love too much, but always leave a piece for yourself," Niki continued, her voice soothing, as she pulled back slightly to meet Lisa's gaze. "So when you've given your all, there's still a part left to grow and nourish until the right love comes."

"What if it never comes, Niki?" Lisa's voice was almost a whisper, a tremor of fear threading through her words.

"That's impossible. We are not made to be alone. No one is." Niki's conviction shone through as she spoke, her eyes sparkling with hope. "That's why we love—because we are meant to share it with someone."

Lisa glanced over at Niki, who was older by just fifteen months, but in some ways, she seemed to have experienced so much more. With the love of both her parents and her high school sweetheart, Niki always seemed to be surrounded by warmth. That's why Lisa asked her—because it wasn't easy to love someone every single day, especially when there were doubts.

"Is that how you feel about Christian?" Lisa teased, nudging Niki's shoulder with a playful grin starting to form on her lips.

Niki shoved her back, rolling her eyes. "Hey! Let's not talk about me. What do you mean by being rejected by someone you like?" Her tone was sharp, catching Lisa off guard.

Uh-oh, Lisa thought, realizing she'd let something slip. She scrambled for an excuse. "That was nothing!"

"Did you confess to your hot neighbor?" Niki leaned in, her eyebrows raised in suspicion.

"Dios Mio! Of course not," Lisa replied, her voice a little too high-pitched. Niki wasn't convinced and continued to stare at her, waiting for more. Letting out a heavy sigh, Lisa admitted, "It's not the perfect time to express feelings I'm still confused about."

"Confused?! Chica, you are not confused! You're in denial."

Before Lisa could argue back, a voice called out from inside. "Oi, Lisa! Come and get your mamá!"

"Welp, that's my cue!" Lisa sprang to her feet, escaping the conversation as fast as possible.

"Hey, this conversation is not over, cous!" Niki shouted after her, but Lisa only laughed, blowing a kiss her way as she waved.

"Love you!" Lisa called out, making her way inside and leaving Niki behind at the gazebo.

The sound of salsa music and the chatter of relatives greeted her as soon as she stepped into the house. She found her mother and aunt in the sala, their faces flushed from too much alcohol. Both were laughing, their hips swaying to the rhythm of the music playing on the stereo. It was her grandmother's 70th birthday, and the house had been filled with food, family, and endless gossip all day long. As much as Lisa loved family gatherings, after nearly ten hours of constant socializing, she was utterly drained.

"Mamá! Tía!" Lisa called out, approaching the two women.

Her mother's eyes lit up as she turned to her sister. "My mija here has a doctor boyfriend," she boasted, clearly proud.

Lisa's cheeks burned as she sheepishly smiled. "Mamá..." she tried to protest, but it was no use.

"Is that true?" Her tía asked, eyes wide. "And here I thought my Niki was lucky with a decent man! But a musician? Ay dios, I keep telling her it's not a wise career. You, my niece, are definitely luckier." The two women burst into laughter again, leaving Lisa to awkwardly chuckle along.

No, Tía, she thought, it's all pretend.

"Let him meet the family!" her aunt suggested.

Lisa's heart stopped, alarm flashing across her face. Before she could respond, her mother's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Yes, mija! Bring him to meet everyone!"

"I don't think we're going for a serious relationship yet," Lisa stammered, trying to defuse the situation, but it was too late. Both women suddenly turned, their expressions darkening.

"He's not serious with you?!" they exclaimed in unison, like a perfectly rehearsed routine.

"I will kill him," her mother declared, her face set in a hard line.

"Oh, hermana," her aunt chimed in. "Do you need a hand with that?"

Lisa shook her head in a panic, hands waving frantically. "No, no, no! That's not what I meant!" she laughed, breaking out in a nervous sweat. Where is Niki when I need her?! "We're still a new couple! We just want to take things slow... you know, make sure it's right."

Her explanation barely helped, and the conversation only grew more heated as relatives began to gather around. Lisa realized she had no choice but to pull her mom away from her aunt, bidding everyone a forced farewell amidst her mother's drunken protests that they should stay the night.

By the time the taxi pulled up to their apartment, it was already past eleven. Lisa paid the driver and carefully began helping her mother out of the car, struggling to keep her balance. Just as she almost let her mom slip, two strong arms appeared from the other side, catching her mother effortlessly.

The familiar, rich scent of cedar and musk filled her senses, and she didn't need to look up to know who it was. The smooth tan skin, the white V-neck cotton shirt, and the Calvin Klein sweatpants—it was Mingyu. But what was he doing here at this hour?

As if reading her mind, Mingyu spoke in his soft, deep voice. "I was taking out the trash."

Lisa's heart skipped a beat, and she glanced up to meet his eyes, trying not to let her surprise show. "Taking out the trash?" she repeated softly, her voice a little breathless from both the weight of her mother and Mingyu's sudden presence.

Mingyu gave a small, knowing smile as he helped steady her mother. "Well, you're lucky I was around."

Lisa couldn't help but roll her eyes, though the corner of her lips twitched upward. "Lucky, huh?" She was keenly aware of how close they were, her mother now leaning against Mingyu more than her. His scent was intoxicating, and it sent her thoughts spinning back to Niki's words—You're in denial.

As they walked her mother up to the door, Lisa's mind raced. This was the man she spent so much time with, the man who made her pulse quicken even when they argued. Yet, she still couldn't fully understand the intensity of her feelings. Was it attraction, or something more?

Mingyu's quiet strength was undeniable as he helped her ease her mother onto the couch inside the apartment. His movements were careful, practiced, like this wasn't his first time dealing with a drunken parent. When they were finally alone, the soft light of the living room cast a warm glow on his sharp features, and for a moment, the air between them felt thick with something unspoken.

"Thank you for helping," Lisa mumbled, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Mingyu shrugged casually. "It's no big deal."

But to her, it felt like more than that. His unexpected kindness, the way he showed up exactly when she needed it—it was too much of a coincidence. She stood there, watching him as he leaned back against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed over his chest, exuding his usual quiet confidence.

A long silence followed. Mingyu was staring at her now, studying her expression as if he could sense the conflict brewing inside her. "You alright, Lisa?" His voice was soft, but there was a firmness to it, as if he wasn't just asking about tonight. He was asking about everything.

Lisa bit her lip, trying to hide her confusion. Should she tell him the truth? About how Niki had just confronted her, how she wasn't sure what to feel when it came to him? Or would that just complicate things more than they already were?

"I'm fine," she said instead, the words coming out more flatly than she intended. She walked toward the kitchen, suddenly desperate to break the tension between them. "Do you want coffee or something? It's late."

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, amused. "At this hour? I'm good, but thanks."

Lisa busied herself with pouring water into the kettle, feeling his gaze on her the whole time. The kitchen felt too small, like his presence was overwhelming the space. She turned around, leaning against the counter as the water started to boil. "Why were you really out there?" she asked, folding her arms. "It's not like you to be out this late."

Mingyu smirked, his dark eyes glinting. "What? You think I was out there waiting for you?"

Her heart gave a traitorous flutter, and she rolled her eyes again, trying to hide the way her pulse quickened. "Don't flatter yourself."

He chuckled, pushing off the counter and taking a step closer to her, his movements smooth and deliberate. "Maybe you're the one flattering yourself."

Lisa's breath hitched as the space between them closed. There was always something electric in the air when Mingyu got this close—something that made her feel both irritated and drawn to him at the same time. The kettle whistled, but neither of them moved.

Finally, she broke the silence. "You're impossible," she muttered, turning her back to him as she poured the water. But her hands were trembling.

Mingyu didn't reply. Instead, he quietly stepped closer, and she could feel the heat of his body behind her. "Maybe," he whispered, his voice low, sending shivers down her spine. "Or maybe we're just so good at pretending."

Her grip on the kettle faltered, and she set it down quickly, not daring to turn around. The sudden shift of his words made her chest hurt. What does he mean by that? Because when Lisa looked back from all the times she spent with him and Eunseo, she was not pretending at all.

Mingyu took a few steps back as if the proximity between them burned him, silence stretched. Then, in a quieter tone, almost as if he were testing the waters, he said, "You still thinking about him?"

"What?"

"You know, that guy you were with the other day..." His voice was tight, betraying the nonchalance he was trying to project. "Is he the reason you're so... distant lately?"

She blinked, momentarily thrown off by his words. Song? Of course, he still thought it was about him. Mingyu wasn't even looking at her now, his gaze fixed somewhere distant, jaw clenched as if he was trying to brush off the weight of his own words.

Lisa turned slowly, trying to read his expression. "You think this is about him?" she asked, her voice quieter now, more curious than defensive.

Mingyu shrugged, trying to play it off as if it didn't bother him. "I mean, he's the one you were all excited to see, right?" He remembered her smiles and laughs when he saw her at the café and at the parking lot.

Lisa's heart twisted at his words. What is this? Why does he sound jealous? She almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Here they were, both tiptoeing around their own feelings, neither of them willing to admit that maybe—just maybe—they were more drawn to each other than they were willing to say.

"Mingyu..." she began softly, setting the kettle down. She took a step closer, searching his face for any sign that he understood. "It's not like that."

He finally looked at her, his dark eyes flicking over her face as if trying to decipher her meaning. "Then what is it, Lisa?" His voice was low, more serious now. "You've been acting... strange. Like you're avoiding something, or maybe someone."

The words hung between them, heavy and loaded with double meanings. Lisa felt the walls closing in around her, the unspoken truth pressing in on all sides. But she wasn't ready to say it. She wasn't ready to admit that Song wasn't the problem—that he was. That Mingyu had been the one occupying her thoughts more than anyone else lately.

But before she could respond, he let out a soft scoff, shaking his head as if dismissing the whole thing. "Forget it," he muttered, taking a step back, his guarded expression sliding back into place. "I was just... I don't know. It doesn't matter."

"Mingyu..." she tried again, but he had already turned toward the door.

"Get some rest," he said over his shoulder, his voice suddenly distant. "You've had a long day."

Lisa watched him leave, her chest tight with all the things left unsaid. She wanted to call him back, to tell him that she didn't care about Song the way he thought she did. But her feet were glued to the floor, her mind a storm of confusion. And maybe, just maybe, he was as confused as she was.