Wake up, make a cup of milo, go to work, come home, and repeat.

This is how Emma would sum up her day if anyone ever asked her. Usually, no one ever asks, but at least she had her answer ready if someone ever did.

But who ever will, huh? Emma's inner thoughts self-depreciatingly say. I don't even know why I'm wasting my life, working for people who will never appreciate the efforts of their employees, for whatever measly salary to pay my bills. Why am I even doing this?

Emma stares at her two bedroom apartment, almost bare with the exception of a few pieces of furniture. She wasn't poor per se, but her minimalist lifestyle could fool anyone into thinking that. She started about six years ago, donating all of her hoarded items to people in need. She felt happy about that. It helped her keep her mind off her dad, who she just had a big falling out with. At least now she no longer had to prepare a guest room for him.

At thirty-six years old, this wasn't how Emma ever imagined her life would be when she grew up - being the clothing store manager of an established fashion brand, but still folding more clothes than anyone else in the store. Fold, tuck, straighten, shelf. Clothes after clothes after clothes. Drip, drip, drop. Like a plum blossom in winter, drops of red fall onto the white silk blouse Emma was folding. "Oh, shoot." Emma remembered thinking, "I've ruined the blouse."

The news wasn't groundbreaking - deep down Emma had known something was up. So she had taken it in stride. Even the doctors were surprised by how calm she was after hearing the news. Emma did what anyone would do after finding out that they may not be around in this world for much longer, she quit her job. And she went back home, not to her apartment in Kuala Lumpur, but to her hometown, where her Dad lived. Not before visiting her Mum, of course, with a pair of garden scissors in one hand and a stalk of cornflowers in the other.

***

"Hi Mum, it's me."

Emma's voice struggled to find its way out of her throat.

"The doctors found it, Mum, I'm scared. I'm scared to tell Dad, cause he hasn't been the same since you left."

"It's why I moved out, I just can't stand the hopeful look he has in his eyes as he asked me over and over again, 'When are you coming home?' I totally snapped at him Mum, I'm such a horrible daughter. I'm scared Mum, I'm so, so scared. Tell me, what should I do?"

Drip, drip, drop. Emma's tears fell like rain to the ground. Slowly, the cold white slab of stone had tear stained marks all over it. Emma was too busy crying to notice how these tears coalesced into a single drop above her head, and rained down on her, her face, hand, body, everywhere.

Emma couldn't believe her eyes, until she felt the moisture on her body, cool to the touch. "Mom, is that you? You're here, right?"

Leaves rustled, and faintly, Emma heard it.

Emma stood and cried until she had no tears left. Her body heaved with every sob-laden breath she took. But she looked up and she saw the sun shining down on her, something clicked inside her then, and she knew that she'd be fine.

***

"Hi, Dad."

Dad's back isn't as tall and broad as Emma remembers anymore. Watching him squatting next to the flower bed, clearing out weeds and grasses. Trying to hide the fact that his back aches with a nonchalant smile on his face and a hand subtly on his hip.

"Emma, dear, when is your Mum coming home? It's been hours since she left the house."

"Dad, I saw Mum on the way here, she's fine."

"Really now? That's good, that's good. Emma, dear, is everything alright with you? You're looking a little pale there."

"I'm...fine Dad, nothing to worry about. But I did come here to tell you that I've been sent to the United states for work for around a year or two."

"That's great news kid, I'm proud of you, take care of yourself. Alright?"

"Alright, Dad, I will."

***

Four years later, in a nursery for special need, somewhere in North Carolina, United States of America, a woman is teaching a young girl how to read. She has just the brightest, most vibrant smile anyone has ever seen on her face. Sunlight rushed through the window, eager to spread their glow on such a sight, full of life.

Emma does her daily jog round the park near the house, breathing in the fresh air, appreciating nature while she's there. She smells the earthy scent from the soil below her feet, the wind gently ruffles her hair, blades of grass playfully scratching against her leg, and she hears the birds chirping a stone throw away. Emma heads home. 

"Honey, I'm home!"

Emma's lover can be seen hunched over the kitchen countertop, hands busy chopping away on ingredients for their dinner. Upon seeing Emma, only a look of sheer joy can describe those lit up eyes and a million dollar smile.

"Welcome back, my love."

"Caesar? Come here, who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?"

"Dinner's just about ready, sit tight alright?"

"Thanks love, let me just make a quick call."

Emma walks to the couch in their living room, and unceremoniously splatters herself onto the couch, with her phone on her ear. With practised ease, she swipes open her phone and dialled the first number on her favourites, a calm and content smile on her face.

"Hey Emma, how's it going? How are you doing?"

"Hi Dad, I'm doing great, I'm really happy right now. Speaking of, when would you like to come over for a visit?"

THE END