[CONTENTID2]We loved with a love that was more than love. -Edgar Allan Poe[/CONTENTID2]

The next week dragged on forever as if it would stretch until the ends of infinity. Sunggyu kept still as Dongwoo and his father lectured him inside his room. His mother had retreated to Heeyeon’s father’s house, where she tried to console the girl. They tried everything within their power to help the couple look past their negative views.

Sunggyu glanced at the clock that ticked away in the kitchen. It had been days since he shaved. A prickly stubble lined his chin and lower jaw. Rays of sunset seeped through the blinds. It painted streaks of scarlet and burning oranges across the linoleum floor. Sunggyu pulled a chair away from the table and settled onto it.

In his hands was one of Heeyeon’s favourite hair clips. The faint scent of her shampoo wavered and infiltrated his nostrils, until all he envisioned was her inside his mind. He was reminded of the days when Heeyeon became him, became one with his soul, transmogrified into a part of him that he treasured.

He remembered when her voice became his, her words were the words he never spoke. Her laughter was his silence. She was everything, and he was a fool. He was not there for her when she needed him the most. He let his cowardice possess him, and so he distanced himself.

Realisation dawned on him like a new day. His heart fluttered inside his chest, a forsaken organ that simply fiddled with his thoughts. He scrambled to his feet, his chair lost balance in the process. It was then that he noticed Dongwoo leaning against the door, arms crossed against his chest.

“Hey, Gyu, the solicitor sent the divorce papers. We’re just waiting for Heeyeon’s response,” he said. He stared at his feet. “Will you be okay on your own after this? What if you get lonely? What if you miss her?”

Sunggyu’s insides twisted into knots. The thoughts of living without Heeyeon was strange to him, ephemeral and dreamlike in quality. He could not imagine a world without her. If such a force should come to separate them, or end their lives, then Sunggyu would vow to be the first to go, just so he would not have to spend a day without her.

‘I need to talk with Heeyeon,’ he gesticulated.

“I tried talking to her. She doesn’t want to see you.” Dongwoo’s eyebrows furrowed.

‘This is important. We had a misunderstanding.’

“Dude, I know how you feel but you’ve just gone too far now. There’s no turning back. Heeyeon said so herself. She’s-”

Sunggyu let out a shrill yell from sheer frustration. He took a nearby chair and let it swivel to the side. It rocked on one leg but regained composure. Dongwoo jumped restively, biting his lower lip.

“Calm down, man. What’s the matter with you?”

He glared at his friend. Hatred burned inside him at his friend’s severe practicality. ‘It’s not late, you . I love her. I know she loves me too.’

“If you loved her that much, then why didn’t you tell her before? You’re the idiot who mentioned the divorce, not Heeyeon,” the other man intoned, waving his arms as he did.

Sunggyu frowned. ‘That was my mistake. I’m willing to make up for it.’

“How much does she mean to you?”

‘The world and more.’

“How far are you willing to go?”

Sunggyu paused, suspicion curdled inside his stomach. He scrutinised Dongwoo through narrowed eyes, searching for any tell-tale signs that suggested another mind next to the man’s. The sheen of perspiration on his forehead was evident. Dongwoo stiffened in his spot, as if he was aware of the ascetic speculation.

Someone cleared their throat from outside, and another figure stepped through. Sunggyu thought his heart would pop out of his chest. The fact that the two of friends conspired behind his back just to test his emotions annoyed him, but another side of him was relieved.

“That’s enough, Dongwoo.”

Heeyeon placed her arms akimbo. She appeared without her makeup. There were dark, puffy crescents lining the bottom of her eyes. She wore a simple tee and a pair of denim jeans, highlighting her tomboyish nature. Her whole being struck him like a rock through a window. His heart shattered like glass inside of him.

Dongwoo grinned; a hand rubbed the back of his hair. “Well, looks like I won’t be needed here anymore.” He slyly disappeared into the darkness beyond the kitchen door.

Sunggyu swallowed the emotion that was lodged in his throat. His heart pounded against his chest until the blood pulsed in his ears. His fingers jittered. He did not know why she caused him so much pain when she said nothing at all. She saw him fling his insecurities out into the open.

He was not ready for it. He suddenly lost the initial desire to seek her, like a prodigal son who stumbled across the desert, only to realise that he was lost. Heeyeon gathered the air into her cheeks and allowed the release of it through her lips.

“Sunggyu,” she said, her tone gentle, “It felt good to hear your thoughts like that.”

He stared at the soles of his shoes. He recalled her aspersions from the other day, how she wrenched him dry like a dirty cloth and flung his disability in the open. It was as if her heart exploded and she lacked all human compassion.

It hurt him.

It hurt him until he thought vines constricted inside his chest, forced him to stop breathing. It astonished him that his body did not shut down and end his life there. Sadness was a sick disease, just like any other disorder. It ate away at what little will he had left.

“Sunggyu?” Her voice pierced through his thoughts. It was gentle. “I’m so sorry for what I said earlier. I just...I was a downright, feckin’ eejit. I swear. I didn’t know what got into me the other day.”

He remained silent, unable to endure