Heidi Kim

The morning started normally. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen, the cheerful banter of my coworkers echoing through the air.  But something was missing. Vina. She would usually be the first to greet me, but she was nowhere to be found.

“Morning Emily, have you seen Vina?” I asked Emily, who was busily chopping vegetables.

“Oh, Chef Heidi, good morning. Chef Vina actually called in sick,” Emily replied. “She woke up feeling awful.”

My stomach did a strange flip. Sick? I hadn't even realized how much I'd gotten used to her presence in the kitchen, her laughter, her playful teasing. The day dragged on. I couldn't focus on my work, my mind constantly drifting to Vina. Was she okay? What if she’s badly hurt?  I kept picturing her curled up in bed, shivering and miserable.

During my break, I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I had to see her. I asked Mr. Laurent if I could be excused for the afternoon, and surprisingly, he said it was okay since the restaurant wasn’t busy much. I decided to text her first.

“Hey, are you okay? How are you feeling?”

No reply.

I tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail. Shit, what if something happened to her?

I immediately grabbed my stuff and headed to her penthouse. As I approached the building, a wave of apprehension washed over me. What if I was intruding? What if she didn't want me there?

But the thought of her lying sick and alone was too much to bear. I buzzed at the doorbell, my heart pounding. After a few tense moments, the door clicked open.

Vina stood in the doorway, pale and disheveled. Her usually vibrant complexion was ghostly, her red-rimmed eyes betraying exhaustion. Her hair, normally sleek and put together, was a tangled mess, and she was swallowed by an oversized T-shirt that looked like it belonged to someone twice her size.

“H-Heidi?” Her voice was weak, hoarse, as if she hadn’t spoken all day. “What are you doing here?”

“I… I was worried,” I admitted, shifting on my feet. “You didn’t answer your phone, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

A faint, tired smile flickered across her lips. “You didn’t have to come.”

“I wanted to,” I said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “I needed to.”

Vina sighed, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she led me to the living room and all but collapsed onto the couch, burying her face in a pillow.

“I feel awful,” she muttered, voice muffled. “Fever, chills, the whole nine yards.”

I pressed the back of my hand against her forehead. “Jesus, Vina. You’re burning up.”

“Yeah, no shit,” she groaned.

“What the hell did you do to yourself?”

“I don’t know. Just woke up feeling like crap.”

I frowned, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You need to go back to bed.”

“Okay…” She didn’t resist as I helped her up, guiding her carefully toward the bedroom. Once she was settled under the covers, I grabbed a cool, damp towel and placed it gently on her forehead. She let out a soft sigh at the relief.

“You need to rest. I’ll make you something to eat so you can take your medicine.”

“But Heidi—”

“No buts, Vina. Sleep.”

She pouted but obeyed, her lashes fluttering shut as she snuggled into the pillow.

As she dozed off, I made my way to the kitchen, searching through her cabinets for ingredients. It was like opening a grocery store with the amount of ingredients that I saw. This girl sure is rich in ingredients. I settled on making abalone juk or abalone porridge. It was easy on the stomach, filling, and comforting. It’s something that I always made for myself when I was sick.

The smell of the broth simmering filled the apartment, bringing a sense of warmth to the otherwise quiet space. Once the porridge was ready, I carefully poured it into a bowl, placed it on a tray, and carried it back to her room. Vina was curled up in the blankets, her face slightly flushed. She looked so small like this, so unlike the fiery, confident woman I was used to.

I set the tray down and nudged her shoulder gently. “Vina, wake up.”

She groaned. “Mmm… no.”

“If you don’t get up and eat this, I will personally shove it down your throat.”

Her lips twitched into a sleepy smile. “Still threatening me even when I’m sick?”

“Sick or not, you’re still the annoying Vina Rossi,” I shot back, placing the tray on her lap.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes before taking a tentative bite. Almost instantly, her expression softened.

“Wow,” she murmured, eyes widening. “This is amazing.”

I felt warmth creep up my neck. “Don’t eat too fast.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she teased before taking another spoonful. Once she finished and took her medicine, I replaced the damp towel on her forehead, making sure she was as comfortable as possible.

“You should go back to sleep,” I said, settling onto the chair beside her bed.

Vina blinked at me, a hesitant expression crossing her face. “Are you sure? You don’t have to stay.”

“I don’t want you to be alone.”

Something flickered in her eyes, something unspoken. Then, she smiled, soft, genuine. “Thank you, Heidi.”

I watched as she slowly drifted back into slumber, her breathing steady and peaceful. And for the first time in a long while, I felt… content. Being here, taking care of her, it felt right. Like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Hours passed. I checked her temperature periodically, offered her sips of water, and listened to the soft rhythm of her breathing. The sun began to set, casting golden light through the curtains, bathing the room in warmth.

Eventually, Vina stirred, her lashes fluttering open.

“Heidi?” she mumbled groggily.

“You’re awake,” I said, relief washing over me.

She rubbed her eyes. “Did I… fall asleep?”

  I chuckled. “For a while.”

She sat up, stretching slightly. “I feel… better.”

“Good. The porridge worked its magic.”

She smiled at me, a different kind of warmth in her eyes. “Thank you. Really.”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “That’s what friends are for.”

“Friends…” she echoed, her voice soft. Something in the way she said it made my chest tighten.

“Best friends,” I added, forcing a grin.

Vina tilted her head, studying me. “Best friends,” she repeated, but the way she said it… it felt like she was questioning it, testing the weight of the words.

Silence stretched between us, comfortable but heavy. Then, almost hesitantly, Vina broke it.

“You know,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been thinking… about that day at the market.”

My stomach clenched. “The market?”

She nodded. “When I said… when I said that I hoped that I had a special place in your heart.”

My breath hitched. I remembered that moment too well. I hadn’t meant to let it slip, hadn’t meant for it to carry so much weight.

“Vina…”

She reached out, her fingers brushing against mine. A simple touch, yet it sent a shiver up my spine.

“I… I think I might be falling for you, Heidi. It’s not a simple ‘I like you’ anymore, I think it’s more than that.”

The words hung between us, fragile yet powerful. My heart pounded against my ribs, my mind racing with emotions I’d tried so hard to suppress.

I swallowed hard. “Vina—”

“You don’t have to answer now, I don’t want to pressure you,” she whispered, her gaze searching mine. “Just… let’s see where this goes, okay?”

I nodded, unable to trust my voice. She was so close now, her breath warm against my skin. And then, as if drawn together by some unseen force, we leaned in.

Her lips met mine, soft, warm, hesitant yet certain. It was slow, unhurried, a quiet confirmation of everything we’d been dancing around.

As we pulled away, our foreheads resting against each other’s, Vina let out a small, breathless laugh.

“I’m lucky to have you in my life, Heidi,” she murmured.

I smiled, my heart overflowing. “Me too, Vina. You have no idea.”

And in that moment, I knew, whatever this was, whatever it would become, I wasn’t going to run from it anymore.