The moment I broke to my brother the news about calling off the wedding, just as expected, he began to blame me. As per our agreement, what I went with regarding the break-up was that I wanted out and no longer wished to continue my relationship with Lee Howon. As I believe, being dumped was for the weak. Being monotonous over such a thing was weaker and what would really make sense was to have the upper hand of everything, like how I did with the beginning of our marriage, like how I did with the relationship with my brother. Nothing made her feel better of myself than knowing that I was in control of a situation, having everyone else under my palm. Even though it meant that I had to hide my true self and lie.

So when Woohyun and my phone conversation began that night, I kept to my poised, usual self; smug, arrogant and undeterred, as though the end of my four year long relationship did not affect me at all. Although there was a part of my heart, ripped and shredded, knowing that I was alone once all over again, I did not let it put me down.

“What on earth were you thinking?” Woohyun asked, and by the tone of his voice, I could tell that he was exhausted of my, as per how he put it, no-goodness schemes. “Eunji, you two had it going on so well, what the hell do you mean by you got tired of it?”

There were my thoughts stuck in , straining to escape so that one part of my heart which was hurting could strive to heal, but I didn’t let them slip. He’d be worried, he’d think I’d been flawed, he’d think I was heart-broken if he would know the truth. He doesn’t need to know. Instead, I replied; “I got tired, that’s all”

Woohyun let out a heavy sigh. “You, Eunji, Seriously have to get your together. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you”

“Nothing is wrong” I replied and took a swig of wine and winced when its warmth poured down my throat. “I’m just tired of weddings and ”

Woohyun seemed to have stopped trying arguing with me when he asked; “So what’s going to happen now? What’s going to happen to the house?”

The condominium, which was quite on the higher side with its monthly renting rate, was definitely not a keep if we were to separate. Previously, Howon and I paid the rent together, and after I left Harvey and Kim and after my income drastically dropped, it was him who had to deal with more than half of the rent (which I hated that I offered to pay with my savings, which he refused. I tried, rather) thus, as it happened now, I had no other option but nullify the contract and leave.

But only, I had no other place to go, unless I could keep myself together and land myself in my brother’s house, but I will never even try to stoop that low. I didn’t need his help. I didn’t want to look so helpless in his eyes.

“We ended the contract” I simply replied.

“So where are you going to stay? On the road?”

I looked around heftily, at the room which surrounded me at Sung Jong’s house which certainly did not hold the likes of the road, and replied; “I can manage”

And just as I expected, the magical words came by. “Do you want to come over to ours? We have a few extra rooms and all”

Woohyun was to get married in another week, and for the time being he lived with his wife, Chorong, at the house they recently bought which was situated in the heart of Haundae. Just as he claimed, the house was pretty big for two. In my opinion, Woohyun could accommodate possibly all the homeless people of the entirety of Seoul in it. Nonetheless, like said, living with Woohyun and Chorong and feel like a homeless weakling was the last thing I wanted to do.

“I can manage, I said” I replied, and poured myself another glass of wine and watched as Sung Jong placed a platter of something before me. He had a nastily small house, yet he’d never say no if there was any way that he could help me. Thus the moment I announced that I had no desire to return home that night, he straight away suggested that I come over. “By the way” I added in an attempt to change the topic. “Your best friend, who was it again…?”

“Sung gyu, yes”

“He came over today” I twirled her fork in the spaghetti bowl before me and gave Sung Jong a gratified smile. “Did you send him again? Because the last time you did-,”

“You’re right” Woohyun interjected from the other end. “He is indeed impressed by your skills, not your firm exactly. He said he needed your help with something…”

“Ah yes” I replied and stuffed my face with food. It was warm and almost burnt my tongue. Nonetheless, the tangy flavors of tomato and marinara indeed tingled my taste buds in pleasure.

“What was it about?” Woohyun asked.

“I have sworn to secrecy”

“But I’m your brother!”

I spoke with a full mouth. “Under no circumstances will I reveal any detail regarding my clients”

Yet again, I could feel him roll his eyes on the other end. “Okay, fine fine….but on a side note, Eunji-,”

“Hm?”

“He’s important to me, keep that in mind”

*

Previously on that day, I arranged a meeting with Sung gyu after his much obnoxious revelation which kept me on my toes. Through this I was enabled to grasp a few crucial facts about him which I couldn’t learn during our previous encounter. One was that he drove an SUV, a Honda (I saw the keys, of course), secondly that he was quite well off (His cashmere coat was from the latest Burberry fall’s collection, and also there was a Starbucks tissue sticking out of his pocket with a stain, possibly of chicken teriyaki) and that he’d been married for almost a year. (He no longer wore his wedding ring, and men usually put it away for safety reasons and also because it sometime came as a hassle, when it was no longer necessary to hold it at all occasions) I also gathered that he hadn’t any children and that he’d been in a lots of stress lately, (His grip, his nails) and finally, I could also learn that when he said his wife was cheating, it wasn’t an assumption but a fact. I could see it that he had clearly seen the evidences himself, and perhaps seen the person she was being unfaithful with, himself. Which would make things quite easier for me, which also raised the question of why he would want to seek professional help regarding this.

Therefore, during the first meeting regarding the case, which was on the same morning he visited me with the quest in hand, I bequeathed him with all my findings, during which he seemed rather perplexed, and then I finally put down the question.

“I have gathered that you, somehow, already know whomever this person is, whom your wife is intervened with, I assume?”

Sung Gyu’s brows furrowed, as though in confusion and gave me a firm look. “How might have you gathered that?”

“Easy” I said and gave him a smile. “When you said it this morning. Your tone”

“Ah” Sung gyu gave an understanding nod. It was quite strange that he didn’t seem as fierce as he did just a few minutes ago, “Yes, I have quite…I mean, I know whom the person is?”

“I see….but why would you want her investigated them? You know it already...”

Sung Gyu pursed his lips and regarded me for a moment. I stared back, though his composure intimidated me, and after a while he looked down at his palm as though all the answers were held in it and met my eyes again. “You know….the thing about having your wife cheating on you, knowing that she’s shagging someone who is definitely not you is, after being married for almost two year…it’s kind of hard to believe….”

I gazed at him for a while longer and find my voice. “You’re in a state of denial, which is normal I guess”

He nodded, looked down at his hand again and I could see that his eyes were fixed on his ring finger which didn’t exactly hold one. “More than denial…it’s difficult to accept”

“I think they are both the same” I answered, and realized that we were getting somewhat off the topic. “Anyway, I would-,”

“They aren’t the same, they are different” Sung Gyu said, interjecting me. “Denial and not accepting I mean. But the reason why I am here is not about any of it. I want to salvage my marriage”

I stare at him and I realized that there was an edge to his voice when he spoke. This helped me know it that Kim Sung Gyu, indeed thought thoroughly of his responsibilities. He did not want to investigate his wife’s affair to confirm his doubts or to prove anything when filing a divorce. He wanted to salvage his marriage, and for this he wanted his facts.

This also meant that, though it never really was mentioned in the description, Jung and Lee private investigators firm will also have to engage in a match-making job of some sort. I hoped he wouldn’t expect any of us to make explanations and make his wife understand anything, because honestly, I was in a slump as much as he himself was, which I didn’t really take as a matter to dwell on, at least for the time being.

“I see” I said in the end and let out a sigh. “I see, well, in that sense what we could do is…” I sighed again and looked up to meet his eyes. I had certainly worked on many cases but none of it included a man who wanted to stay married to the person he was cheated on, but more on the likes of people who ended their marriage or relationship and headed on their own ways with a terrible ending. Having come down to this, as someone who had no intention to save a marriage just the same, I had no idea how to cope with this. I was in a difficult position. The firm wasn’t made for this kind of a thing. I wasn’t made for one.

“Yes…?” His voice prompted and I realized that I had actually fallen off the moment for a bit. I quickly gathered my composure.

“Well….I’m sorry Mister Kim but all we could do is find the beginning of the string and search through it, and it doesn’t involve…how do I say this…?” I stole for some time, meddling with my pen. “Putting…things together…”

“Well, I don’t expect you to” He replied, sounding calm. “The only thing I want to know is how this happened, and what is happening now and why it did, so that I would know it myself what I can do to save it…” He stopped for a moment to take a deep breath. “And that, Jung Eunji does not necessarily mean I would expect you to…” he hesitated and replied. “Put things together…”

I couldn’t form a reply to it, bearing in mind that I was indeed touching a rather fragile and personal topic. I wetted my lower lip, looked down at my open clipboard, a clean sheet put on it, already to take up the case, and finally replied. “I understand…”

Without being able to say another word, I reached down, pulled open the table drawer and produced a few sheets of attached papers and then a plastic file before handing them to him.

“We haven’t computerized anything yet” I explained when he looked at the forms questioningly. “We’re yet to find techies…meanwhile, we’re doing things manually”

He nodded, pulled out a pen and began to read through the forms. It was eerily silent in the room at that time, even Sung Jong had headed out to deal with a case we had in hand, some financial crisis or other of a small scale chain of print houses. It made me feel quite out of place, watching this man filing a case about his deceitful wife, looking completely calm and composed while he should be losing over such a situation in reality. He probably was, like he said, after having being married for two years. This thought led me to wonder of my own derailed relationship. Howon and I have been together for four years and engaged for a month. Although our relationship had been wondrous all this time, after we’ve parted our ways, I didn’t feel slightest bit remorseful. True, I felt betrayed. True, I realize that I would be alone. But none of them really mattered to me. They didn’t affect at all. What really did affect was the uncertainty of what would come afterwards. Cancellation of the wedding, making announcements, cancelling all the bookings and orders made. All of it was one big frustration. And through this thought I realized that the whole reason why I was taking up this case was as an escape, an attempt to keep my mind off things.

“It’s done” Sung Gyu said, and it was his voice which brought me back from my thoughts. I filed through the details, my mind slightly out of place for the moment, stacked them into the plastic folder and sat up to meet his eyes.

“Here is what we can do about this.  We can follow her, mark her whereabouts, and see where she is, whom she is with and what she is doing. But of course…this would be an invasion of privacy-,”

“I suppose it’s inevitable” Sung gyu answered to the question I never really asked. “Although it is so, she is my wife, and I reckon her privacy is also mine…”

I almost gave him a smile. “Impressive way of thinking”

He only returned it, in a rather distraught manner, so I proceeded.

“Assuming that you have provided us with all the relevant information, we can track down her whereabouts, and all that I previously mentioned. After a week of observation we will meet again, does it sound like a plan?”

He gave me a slightest nod. “Very much so”

“I also have your contact details here-,”

“I would like to have yours as well….” He said, and I gave an understanding nod and handed over one of my business cards. “There we are…and of course, if there’s anything you’d let us know, regarding the investigation…”

“I’ll make sure you’re informed” Sung Gyu said and pocketed the business card. Afterwards, there was a rueful silence. I had my eyes fixed on the neat lettering inside the transparent folder while Sung Gyu remained, unfazed and composed. I thought of how it was probably like for him, I wondered if he and I both felt the same way. There was this immense urge inside me to ask him, so many things to know if our feelings were similar, to determine if we were actually in the element as of this moment. But my pride was more important than all the unanswered questions in my mind, and I would rather let them be unanswered and faded away than putting my guards down to question my emotions.

Sung Gyu, however, had rather different views regarding the entire ordeal than I did. He wasn’t ignorant. He wasn’t arrogant. He didn’t regard his pride as more important than where his love life stood. I could tell that much when his voice broke through silence and said; “I hate to lose her trust over this…”

“Hm?” I was quite thrown, because I honestly wasn’t expecting him to speak.

“My wife. We’ve been married for two years, been together for six years. And all this time, not once have I broken her trust”

I regarded him closely, yet he was giving nothing away. He was as calm and composed as he were the first time we met.

“I can assure you we will be discreet” I said, sounding businesslike, though I could say that the conversation was more on the side of a personal discussion.

He ignored me and continued. “It’s funny though, that I’m worried about losing her trust”

There was silence again, and after a while, I added in a small voice. “You have lost trust in her…”

Sung gyu let off a heavy sigh then, and it was the only moment he showed a slightest sign of discomfort and uneasiness. He was, indeed, shattered inside. It was evident in his deep set of eyes, sadness was etched in them like a map to his heart although he was trying his best to stay as composed as he could. In that sense then I could say that we weren’t in the element at all. My fiancé left had left me, and I had called off a wedding. Yet here I was, not a least bit regretful, lying to everyone, taking responsibility and saving my pride. We weren’t in the element at all.

Sung Gyu ran a hand through his dark locks of hair, stared down at the folder before me and finally pushed back the chair and got up on his feet. “I should get going now.”

“Indeed” I replied, giving a hasty nod and cleared my throat. “Well, I’ll notify when…if…” I was losing my words again. Here was a man, losing his trust, perhaps mind and sanity as well. And I had no idea how I should approach him, how I should place my words and evade making things worse for him than they already were.

He regarded me for a moment then, and gave me a rueful smile. “I’m looking forward to hear from you…good bye then, give my regards to your brother too…”

“I will” I replied, feeling bashful, and silently watched him as he disappeared out the door into the cold autumn afternoon.

*

That night, after Woohyun had put down the phone, after I had finished having dinner with a rather silent Sung Jong, I put on a few warm clothes over my bony self and decided to take a lone stride down the roads. It was excessively cold for an early autumn night. The air was chilling and damp. With every breath I took would be emitted a warm, white cloud. I had my hands buried within the pockets of my winter jacket since I had forgotten to bring a pair of mittens along. I could have asked Sung Jong for a pair, but my pride wasn’t allowing me to. My hair was down, which wasn’t exactly helping against the balmy wind, and my face was numbed, I could hardly move my jaws without clattering my teeth. It was, in fact, a perfect night for me to down a few bottles of alcohol along with my darned, irrational, irrelevant insecurities and try to bring myself up to a stand point.

Truth to be told, although I did quite feel I wasn’t as much affected by the drawback, my heart seemed to be telling me otherwise. It was difficult to overcome the effect of past memories, surging back like a corpse in the sea every minute or so. I felt lonely, I felt left out, and the realization that I do actually have to work million things out on my own irked me in a way I couldn’t explain. I despised these emotions, things that I weren’t indeed supposed to feel, being myself. But I figured they were inevitable, especially if you were out on a stroll, engaged in a silent conversation with yourself. These were indeed the concerns that you will talk about.

Minutes later, I found myself seated on a plastic stool under a malleable umbrella which had crooked to a side owing to the wind, in a roadside eatery, watching the vehicles whizz by. It wasn’t as cold as it was before, and the steam from the kitchen cart was keeping the place in warmth. I wasn’t exactly up to eating, provided that I had had a scrumptious marinara dinner just a while ago. Yet, to down the soreness of the alcohol consumption, there needed to be the heat. I had purchased two bottles of Soju and grilled pork ribs and was downing them calmly, allowing my mind to wander about, continuing my inner, with-soul conversation when my phone rang. It was Howon.

To be honest. I have never had expectations, especially when it comes down to relationships. Personal or societal, it was out of pure personal judgement and clarity that I kept away from expecting anything further than how the things already were. I couldn’t tell how far it had done well for me, or whether I did have expectations unaware of them myself. However, it had always helped me in keeping dignified and, well, unapproachable. Because my life, people could leave and enter whenever they very well please, and I was always in the state of not giving two hoots about them. They either stay, or leave. None had ever been of any importance to me anyway. I had always had myself, and that was that. So when Howon phoned me that night, like other women would have done, I didn’t expect him to apologize, to tell me that he had been wrong and that he would very much like to start everything all from the beginning. None of it. The moment his number appeared on the screen, by intuition I could say that it was regarding the condominium.

“Yes?” said I, twirling the chilled liquor inside the glass. It spilled and some got onto the grill which made it sizzle loudly and a rush of warm smoke got into my eyes.

“I spoke to Dong Woo” Dong Woo was Howon’s family’s family lawyer, who also was the lawyer with whom we signed the rental contract. “It’s nullified, we have to move out”

I was irate by the fact that he had to state the obvious and also that he chose to use the first person plural when it might as well be second person singular, but I wasn’t letting anything show. I wasn’t weak, and neither should he feel that way. He didn’t have to know that he was literally putting me out onto the streets and making me homeless either. He didn’t have to know that calling off the wedding was twice as the burden that the wedding planning was being. He didn’t have to know any of it, because it was all for me to manage by myself, and I would rather do so than getting him involved and being engaged in one of his ‘Face-`a-face’ friendly discussions.

“Noted. I’ll come and pack tomorrow” I said non-committedly. I was certain he was in the said condominium right now, probably wrapped in covers with the crimson lipped bimbo. I could say it by the echo of his voice and his tone. And to be honest, I would have gone home and packed up this very instance. Never have I been so eager to leave the ugly scars behind and move on with the rest of my life. Howon, who was once the beauty of everything, now was nothing but an ugly scar, a wrong decision. He was a memory that I wanted to rip and shred into fragments and stomp on. But only, if I would take such impulsive decisions, it would only project the wrong idea. No. I did not want him back. I did not want him to watch me come, pack up and leave. I did not want him to step over, kiss on my cheek and wish I would have a good life, whatever. I wanted to disappear like I was never there, and that would be the end of us.

There was silence, and I knew that he was going to go about the ‘Shared’ belongings. There weren’t many, given that we have lived together for only about one and half a month. There were the kitchen appliances, vine bottles and a few miscellaneous things I couldn’t exactly recall. I wanted to say that I’d rather take none of them, but the very statement sounded so whiny, so weak, the rings of it seemed to project an idea somewhat along the line of ‘They are ours, I want to cherish the memories’. No, I didn’t want the memories. I would have let him have them too, if it were ever possible. But I needed to be on the upper hand. I was always in control.

“Just take everything you want and leave the rest” I said when the silence seemed to stretch. “I’ll come up later in the morning…”

“Well…” Howon began in the end. “I was only wondering if I could take the mugs”

The mugs, the custom made pastel pink and blue mugs I happened to get for valentines that year with our faces on them as chibies. It was rather corny and weird, but it was Woohyun’s idea. (He didn’t suggest me, himself, obviously. I copied what he did for Chorong and pestered him to make me a pair so I could seem like I committed to it) they crossed my mind, actually. I didn’t think he would even remember them. But he did. Not that I needed them, anyway. Not that I cared.

“Yeah, whatever” I said and tossed the pork which have turned brown to the other side.

“I thought you were coming home tonight” He said after a while.

A pretentious arse, he was. “I don’t suppose so…”

“No really, Eunji-,”

“I’m over at Woohyun’s…” I lied, my chapped lips and continued. “I’m good. I’ll collect my stuff tomorrow. Have a wonderful night…”

“Can’t we have a proper goodbye at least? If we can’t go back to being the friends we always were?”

There it went. Though unexpected at first, I quite knew it was coming. ‘Being friends’ was by far the most ing ridiculous idea that one could suggest, especially after they have confessed that they’ve been having an affair behind their fiancée, and if he thought I would be swayed an inch, emotionally, no matter whether he pattered so genuinely, it’s just the right thing we were doing, separating.

“We said our good byes. And if it wasn’t enough, Good bye Lee Howon”

“Eunji-,” I could hear his voice going as I lowered my phone. I didn’t cut of the line even. I couldn’t bother to. I just laid it face down on the table and downed two shots of soju in a row. My irritation was so much that I couldn’t even care to react at the repulsive soreness the two shots gave my throat. Afterwards I chewed on pieces of meat, juicy, rubbery and burning my tongue. Then I opened the second bottle of soju, poured a shot and happened to notice a familiar grey cashmere winter jacket hung on a backrest, touching the ground like a massive dead bat. Its owner with messy tousled dark hair and a face full of weariness of post-world war, was downing a glass of soju on his own. I thought of broken relationships, I thought of derailed marriages. I looked at my reflection on a slowly passing bus, which was nothing close to an expression someone whose fiancé had just cheated would have had. Then I pulled out the business card folded into two which I happened to find in my winter jacket earlier on that night, and rang the number. Surreptitiously, I watched him as he lazily reached for the jacket and retrieved his phone. He picked up at the seventh ring.

“Hello?”

“Question. Do recruiters generally go out at night and get drunk on their own?”

I had an immense urge to laugh when he lowered his hand and gave the phone a curious look, as though it was what which was drunk. “Eunji?” He said then, and I wasn’t surprised that he recognized right away.

“To the right” I said in a stern voice. “Two tables away”

Sung Gyu sat up, looked around frantically, and the moment his eyes met mine, I cut off the line and took a demonstrating shot in order to show him that I had come out drinking just as he were. And then I realized the mistake. People don’t go drinking out at night unless they were having an emotional crisis. Sung Gyu’s wife was shagging some unknown specimen, which I certainly knew about. My fiancé was shagging some sultry crimson woman, which Sung Gyu didn’t have to know about. I should have just gone on my way without getting his attention. Honestly, I had no idea why I even went to taking such terrible decisions. Nothing to worry about though; because he didn’t seem to care. But when he grabbed his cashmere and the only bottle of Soju he was downing, I realized that I had indeed made a great mistake and that I needed an excuse to my half-drunkard condition.

“Hey” He greeted.

“Hey” I greeted back.

He hung his jacket on the backrest of the chair next to mine, put down his bottle and sat down before me. I did quick once over and found the observations, which are;

1. Black V neck long sleeve sweater, sleeves pushed up and jeans. Casual.
2. Greasy damp hair, tousled.
3. One bottle of Soju, no meat.
4. Which leads to the conclusions;
   i. He had been here for quite a long time (On a cold autumn night, coat off, sleeves pushed up)
   ii. Had gone home early after work.
   iii. Wife not at home.
   iv. Stressed. Mid-life crisis.

“Fancy seeing you here” I said, sounding less formal than this morning, feeling quite sorry for him and restraining myself from impulsively listing down my analyzed conclusions.

“Indeed” He said with a ghost of a smile. “Do you live around here?”

Another conclusion, he was definitely a resident. “No” I said, shaking my head. “Was visiting a friend. You live around here, I presume”

“Yes I do” He nodded “our flat is over there” he pointed at a rather fancy apartment plaza, a few feet away across the road with neon lights and a very brightly lit entrance way. I noticed the similarity at this point, the similarity between us. Denial.

Our flat. We should move out.

Was I being in denial too then? I assumed I wasn’t, until I realized that I was still calling them our memories. It probably wasn’t denial then. We probably were too used to regarding ourselves in plurals that singulars seemed a little too odd to be used, especially when it comes down to what and where we, the plurals belonged.

“Ah” I said, giving an acknowledging nod, and feeling incredibly awkward, being in his presence. He was Woohyun’s best friend, the best friend I have never met or even heard of, all for the fact that I hated Woohyun because he acted like he knew me, owned me, like he knew it all.

There was silence for a while, during which I tossed the ribs to the other side. Sung Gyu’s hand, which held his sole bottle of Soju reached across the table, and with his eyes he seemed to be asking if I fancied a shot, which I agreed to with a nod. He poured me one and poured another for himself. We downed the glass-full at once, and then I offered him meat, which he refused. Then he said, “So you’re Woohyun’s sister…”

He was stating the obvious too, which irritated me. But I figured it was only starters of a conversation. It irked me more when everyone including him Woohyun himself would always regard me as his sister. I’d rather have a different manner of defining myself than being repulsively called Nam Woohyun’s younger sibling. It would always make me feel small. Sister was such a trifling, undermining phrase to regard a woman in my opinion. It didn’t give the same sense as brother’ or ‘step sister’, even, would give. And I hated it.

“Step sister” I corrected him in a stern voice. “Nam Woohyun is my-,”

“-Step brother, I know” Sung gyu finished for me, regarded me for a while with a tilted head and made me feel extremely self-conscious. Then he refilled his glass. While so he said, in a rather gentle voice; “He’s very fond of you, Woohyun…”

I almost snorted, yet I kept a straight face, which wasn’t difficult to pull off. “I’m certain he is…”

“No, seriously” Sung Gyu shook his head, as though bemused. “He thinks very highly of you…”

“Oh…” I said, because this, I did not quite believe. “Well, what about it then?”

There was silence, and a car playing loud music rushed by a mile a second. Sung Gyu spoke afterwards.

“Oh well…I don’t know…you can always…try to be nice to him?”

I scoffed this time, quite loudly, and rolled my eyes. “Believe me, Kim Sung gyu, I’m trying my best if he wasn’t stepping on my ing nerves”

“He doesn’t mean to…”

“Or he doesn’t?” I echoed incredulously. “Well, maybe so, but I don’t appreciate it…”

Sung Gyu shrugged then, a blatant evidence that he had already given up on the conversation. I watched his hands for a while, nervously fiddling with his phone, twirling the glass, pressing the phone’s home button every ten seconds or so. Perhaps he was lonely. Perhaps his inner conversations were so repetitive and irritating that he needed to focus on another real conversation with someone completely disconnected to him to keep his mind away from drifting back into them. I could easily notice his uneasiness, his worries, so after watching a while, I realized I couldn’t take it anymore. I indeed have to ask and have it clarified.

"Did you and your wife separate?”

“Huh?” Sung Gyu suddenly looked up from his phone, looking a little distant. “Who, Bomi?”

“So that’s her name” I stated, and him, as though in realization gave me a slightest grin, which immediately vanished. Then he replied.

“I wouldn’t say that we are separated. She’s just…we’re just…”

“How did it start?” I asked because I didn’t feel a least bit empathetic towards him and also because I wanted to know.

“The what?” He asked.

“Her affair” I said, trying to sound as patient as I could. “How did you find out?”

The silence which overtook the ambiance between us, I could say was incredibly heavy and strong. The din of the previous conversation had vanished, being taken up by a darker aura, like we have formed a different, heavy cloud overhead. It was indeed over the both of us. While he remained silent, I thought of the print of red lipstick on the vine glass from that day.

“I don’t know…” Sung Gyu said in the end and poured himself another glass. He picked it up, glared at the invisible liquid inside it, watched it as it turned when he twirled the glass, and put it back on the table. Then he said. “At first I only thought she needed a break…At least, that’s what she said she needed, though I was in doubt myself in which sense she needed a break because I wasn’t pressuring her in any possible way…”

There’s silence again, and though I expected him take down the shot, he just left it to rot.

“Then she wouldn’t speak to me, then she couldn’t stand me, which was fine by me, assuming that she would come around when she’s over it…whatever which bothered her. Until one day when I saw her going away with a man I didn’t recognize…” He trailed away, took a deep breath and replied. “Snogging…”

It must have hurt, though I couldn’t say because I had not, in fact, witnessed Howon snogging anyone else. He had always been secretive in that way, which I now see as a good thing. Otherwise I would be in jailed by now, convicted for murdering two people. Honestly. I despised betrayal, and I couldn’t imagine how Sung Gyu was coping with it.

“Where does she work at? Your wife?”

“Same” He said, nodding, as though I was supposed to have known it all this time. Then he noted that I wasn’t following, so he added, “The same firm as me…but she’s an associate, I’m a recruiter…”

“Oh…” I nodded. “Then what about the…?”

“Man?” He clarified, and I nodded.

“Well, I am not quite sure…there are two hundred odd lawyers working for the firm, and being a recruiter I can’t recognize myself…” Silence. And again. “But the word is, he isn’t from Bae Kim and Lee…but somewhere else”

“Have you not tried to find out?”

“No” He said, and gave me a quizzical look. “That’s what I hired you for…I know the man, I don’t know him personally. Maybe I do, but I don’t recognize him…” He poured himself a glass, picked it up and put it down again in frustration. “If I get my hands on him, I will ing murder him. But I know that isn’t going to be helping…so that’s why I hired you”

“Understandable” I said in agreement. “The best way around this is not committing homicide…”

Sung Gyu gave me a smile. He had a pretty nice smile, to be honest. Kind of breezy and kind of sweet. I wasn’t the kind to judge people by their smiles. But by intuition the very smile of his gave me the idea that he indeed had a very warm heart.

He’s important to me. I could almost hear Woohyun’s voice in my head. I couldn’t tell in which way he was important to him, given that Woohyun was a school teacher while Sung Gyu worked as a legal recruiter. Maybe he was his emotional support. The silent pillar I never knew of. But seeing him now, I was beginning to doubt my judgement.

“Have you told Woohyun about it?” I asked, without further contemplations. “That your wife was doing this? And that you hired me?”

“No” Sung Gyu said, shaking his head. “And I hope you wouldn’t either…” Hesitance, and he continued. “I’d rather if this stayed only between us…Woohyun shouldn’t know”

I wasn’t getting a hang of it. I couldn’t understand why he and I needed to keep it from my brother if he were that so important to him. Perhaps he wasn’t his emotional support then. Their connection was indeed peculiar. I couldn’t tell much though. Because I never really knew him, knew them.

“Is there a good reason why we shouldn’t?” I asked. And this time Sung gyu downed the glass he was picking and putting down a several times before. He winced at the soreness, and while he did I just watched, wondering if I should pour him another glass. He poured one himself, and repeated the same act of picking up, regarding and putting it down. Then he looked up to meet my eyes. His gaze was warm, and there was a hint of remorse, and fear etched in them and a touch of hope. In fact, there were millions of emotions there, floating around like fish who’d lost their way. I felt strange all of a sudden, like I was looking into his world, only to see, hear or grasp nothing. So I looked away.

“There is, Eunji” He said in the end and gave me a soft smile. “A very good reason why he shouldn’t”

He pushed back his chair then, fished in his pocket for a few bills which came out crumpled and rutted. He set them down on the table, reached for his coat on the chair, met my eyes and gave me a warm smile.

“I hope you can find your way back?”

I was glad he wasn’t offering a ride. I nodded in response.

“Okay…I’ll be going then…It was nice talking to you…good night!”

“Good night!” I said.

He put on his coat, walked backwards for a few steps, gave me a little wave and soon he was off, his slender figure disappearing into the whizzing Seoul night lights. I climbed up on my feet myself after he had gone off my peripheral view. I reached into my pocket, searching for a few bills to pay with, and noted that Sung gyu had indeed left money for more than one bottle of Soju. He had paid for me too. Woohyun’s voice was echoing in me again, like a silent inception. I looked up at the building where his flat, their flat was, imagined his exhausted weary-self confined in an iron elevator, engaged in a battle with his mind. Then I grabbed the money he had left, paid the bill for us both and traced back the same path I came through back to Lee Sung Jong’s dinky little apartment through the flays of the cold wind through the night.

*

Our condominium house was on the seventh floor of the metropolitan towers, a few minutes away from the suburban city of Haundae. There were four condominiums each floor, and ours was on the furthest corner with a balcony lawn overlooking the city below. There was a miniature patch of greenery with a lounging chair perched on cobble stones and a few plotted plants which I hardly ever water and tend to. The entire house is open planned except for the master bedroom and the attached bathroom. To the right of the hallway was the kitchenette and dining area, and a few steps downwards the hallway is the living area with the plasma screen set, the pure white sofa set a pair of red bean bags and a potted green fern. A little further inside is the master bedroom with a dull grey interior and a petite lounging area separated by a sizable aquarium which inflicted ripples of light on the walls in the night. It’s lit neon blue with a natural water plants inside and a couple of corrals, colored rocks, a pirates’ chest and a couple of bright colored koi fish whom I’d feed before going to bed every night. And then in the hallway was a wide glassy iron rack where all the photograph, ornaments and goblets and trophies were kept. All in all, it was simple, it was cozy, and it was home.

At least it used to be.

Coming back after I had left the morning the other day, I realized, it wasn’t anything like returning home after staying a night out on any other day. Everything was different. Everything we had and we shared seemed to have so much as disappeared in a matter of a day. It was no longer the house we walked into, feeling like its home. It was as if I had invaded into the life of a stranger. With a strange rush of nostalgia, I walked all over the house, my hands running over the times which had indeed stayed with us. The sofa that we used to spend the cold days on, huddled together, muttering sweet nothings to ourselves. The soft sheep skin carpet that we made love on for the first time. The bed we slept in together, where he held me close and kissed my hair. The kitchen we rushed in and bumped in every morning before work and had cozy dinners with vine and deep conversations. All of these memories seemed to mean nothing to me. The sofa, the bed, the carpet and the kitchen were never ours, it wasn’t us all along. I was amazed at how everything could change within a day.

The house wasn’t the same as I left it the morning the other day. Usually, I keep everything clean and orderly. Without me around, the house was in complete debacles. There were shirts and jackets strewn about, take away containers and empty glasses were all over the once-clean kitchen cabinet and everything reeked stale. The bathroom shower curtains were open and the carpet was damp. Only the bedroom was completely still as though no one had walked into it since I had left.

I located a few carrier bags and my sizable red suitcase and threw in all the clothes in the wardrobe, all the toiletries and cosmetics, all the shoes I had into them. The luggage to be carried away was huge towards the end, which seemed almost impossible for me to carry away let alone to fit into the office for the time being. After all the hustle and bustle of packing, I walked into the hallway, sat down of the steps and felt completely drained. For some reason, I was overwhelmed. Thousands of emotions were flooding inside me, shredding my soul one inch after next. I looked around the empty house once more. There was no longer the laughter, the bickering and long conversations. It was eerily unfamiliar. It was no longer ours. We no longer belonged there. And this thought happened to break something inside me.

I was unaware of all the emotions I was feeling at that moment when all the strings detached inside me. They broke, one after the other, with a snap; and in a matter of minutes, I was a weeping, crying wreck. I hadn’t cried this way for as long as I could remember. I wasn’t weak. I wasn’t vulnerable, and crying had never been in my book, nor had been emotions and attachments. But at that moment when the sudden realization hit me as would a storm, everything came pouring out, unbounded and endless, like I have opened a door in my heart which I never knew to have existed. I felt indescribably angry at myself for doing this, for losing my calm, for losing my poise, for letting everything crumble down. So I ran my nails down my face, I pulled my hair, I twisted my fingers until I could feel the pain numbing my emotions. I let my own inabilities hurt me until I could find my better self, I allowed this to go on.

Once I had settled down, I walked into the kitchen and washed my face. I could have gone to the bathroom, let the scent of ourselves linger around me for one last time, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I couldn’t look in the mirror, I hate to see what had come out of me. I wanted myself back, and for that I needed to leave everything behind.

I phoned a taxi afterwards and waited out on the pavement, hands in my jacket pocket, watching the cars pass by. I tried my best to not let all the inner conversations take over me. But the crying had ruined me. The inner conversations were on, and they were questioning my sanity. I was slowly losing my ways, and I hated it.

Once the taxi arrived, I loaded everything inside. The driver helped me with loading the luggage into the trunk, and I threw in the rest of the carrier bags into the rear seat. I settled down afterwards and took a few deep breaths. Finally, it was the moment I was leaving everything behind. The moment I was moving on to find my better self. It was time.

“Where to love?” The driver asked, and it was what which brought me back from my thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Where to?”

I stared at the driver, rendered speechless, and felt all the emotions rushing back again towards me. I was lost. I couldn’t move on.

I had nowhere to go.

Sad chapter for valentines.

Happy valentines day, peeps!!