eunsook hangs up & tosses her phone on the table, flinging off her pajamas.  a pair of pants & a long-sleeved shirt are tugged on as she runs back towards the front door of gwiboon’s apartment, grabbing her phone on the way & stepping into her sandals.  the door slams behind her & then quickly opens again as she grabs her bag & heads back outside to the waiting cab.

the call had been unexpected & her heart still races as she thanks the driver & rushes out of the car onto the sidewalk.  the doors swish open & then a palm rubs at her chest anxiously while the other floats over a map bolted to the wall.  she finds her destination & leans over to press an elevator button, tapping her foot as she waits for the ‘ding’ that signals its arrival.     

the nurse who had called her is not the one at the station when she arrives & it takes a few minutes to confirm that she is at the right hospital.  when the nurse realizes who she is coming to see he gives her a look that she recognizes, one that she has seen minjung elicit from a number of people, a sort of restrained amusement.

the room is quiet & bright, lit by the morning sun streaming through the open blinds.  she sits down in the plastic chair next to minjung’s sleeping form & takes her hand, thinking about how soft & frail it feels & remembering the last time she was here.  now it’s her turn to sit & wait.  the minutes tick by & she falls asleep in the chair, waking up disoriented with a stiff neck.

“about time.”  she looks over at minjung who is watching her with a warm smile.

“what happened?”

“you fell asleep.”  eunsook purses her lips & squeezes minjung’s hand.

“i meant why are you here?”

“they didn’t tell you?”

“they might have.  but i want to hear it from you.”  minjung blows a puff of air haughtily through her lips.

“it was just a little cake.”

“you’re just a little diabetic.”

“at my age-”

“you need to be taking care of your health,” comes a voice from across the room.  “that’s what you need to be doing at your age.”  they both look up to see minho standing in the doorway, frazzled, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed.  “why didn’t you call me?”  the question is directed to his grandmother but it feels to eunsook as though he is speaking to her.

“i didn’t see any reason to.  my favorite grandchild is here.”  eunsook blushes & glances at minho, catching his eye.  she wants to smile, to reassure him that it isn’t true & that she doesn’t take any joy out of his grandmother’s caustic remarks.  but she can’t.  she can’t stop staring. 

he looks away first & walks over to take minjung’s hand in his, jostling it gently & covering it with his open hand.

“don’t do that again.”

“i will do what i want.”  her words are harsh but her tone is soft & she lets go of eunsook’s hand to pat the back of his.  eunsook watches, suddenly feeling like an intruder.  she stands & asks if they’d either of them like anything from the cafeteria or the vending machines.  minjung opens to speak but minho cuts her off with a terse, “nothing for you.”

turning back to eunsook he says, “a cherry coke would be great.  thanks.”

“sure.”  a quick smile at minjung who is watching her with an indecipherable look as she grabs her bag & hurries out of the room, her heart beating erratically as she presses the elevator button.  it is empty as it takes her down to the basement, a mechanical voice announcing their arrival as the doors open & she steps out.  fingers shake as she stuffs a few bills into the machine, grabbing two identical bottles of soda when they’re deposited below.  she stands there, staring at her reflection in the machine, uncertain what to do now because she’s not ready to go back.  a chair at one of the tables in the tiny room is pulled back & she sits down, surrounded by the hum of the machines as she bites her lip.  they’ll notice if she’s gone too long but she needs a moment to gather her wits & she wants to give them some time to be alone. 

minjung doesn’t know why they separated, only that they have, & she has done her best to keep in touch with eunsook even after.  but it always feels like she is taking sides, that minho is being pushed away in her favor & that isn’t fair.  he doesn’t deserve that; he has done nothing wrong.  not really. 

she sighs & opens her bottle, taking a long sip & knowing she will regret it as soon as the sugar & caffeine kick in.  nothing as dramatic as cutting minjung out of her life has been done.  their time together, however, has definitely been cut back & messages much shorter than those she used to send.  it was hard: she loves her dearly.  but minho deserves to have his grandmother in his life & she was willing to sacrifice her friendship with minjung so that he could.  glancing down she sees that the clock on her phone says that ten minutes have passed since she sat down.  gathering up the plastic bottles she heads back to the elevator & it’s mechanical voice.

minjung is alone when she arrives, looking at the wall in quiet contemplation.  eunsook sets the soda bottles down in the windowsill & takes her place again in the plastic chair.

“he told me.”  eunsook freezes, hoping.

“what?”

“he didn’t mean to.”  she’s looking at eunsook now, her face set & her jaw tight.  eunsook’s heart begins to race & her nerves tingle.

“i’m sorry.”  it’s the first thing that comes to mind, an apology that slips out unbidden but true.  minjung sighs & turns back to the wall.

“i met my husband on a dare.  it’s not that different.”  the beep of the monitor & the tide of sounds out in the hallway grow loud in the ensuing silence.  eunsook looks down at her hands in her lap & tries to think of a reply.

“what kind of dare?  i mean, who dared who?  & to do what?”  minjung chuckles & closes her eyes.

“you know i don’t even remember what the dare was?  we were about twenty & it was my friend’s idea.  all i really remember is the way he nearly fell over laughing.  then he looked at me & i could barely hear him ask me to lunch over the beating of my own heart.  then we just...fell in love.”  the pillow beneath her head makes a crinkling sound as she turns to eunsook.  “we were married for forty-eight years & he was my best friend.”  eunsook moves to grab a tissue as minjung’s eyes tear up, sitting back down when the older woman waves her away. 

“maybe your marriage started out as something of a business relationship but we both know that it isn’t ending as one.  if the two of you want to separate because you don’t think you’re compatible that’s one thing.  it’s none of my business.  but if it’s just that the contract is up that’s another.  when two people are in love, when two people are in love & are friends...that’s not something they should walk away from.”  eunsook takes the hand minjung offers & looks down at it, listening.  “whatever you decide, i would like us to still be friends.”

“i just didn’t want to make you choose,” she mumbles.

“my choice to make.”  eunsook nods & looks up.

“it wasn’t fair to him.  he needs his grandmother.”

“so many secrets.”  eunsook hangs her head & twists her toe inside her shoe.

minho is waiting in the hallway when she steps out the door.   the sound of a deep “hey” beside her startles her & she stops, hand to her chest as their eyes meet.

“hey.”  there’s a tension between them that she wishes wasn’t there.  “um, your soda is in the windowsill.”  he glances at the door to minjung’s room & back, confusion & then understanding moving across his face.

“oh yeah.  thanks.”

“sure.”  neither make any further comment & neither of them turn away, caught in each other’s gaze.  it’s only when a code blue blares from the intercom directly above that the spell is broken.

“since you’re here i’ll go back home,” she starts with a smile, trying to keep her voice even.  “just call me if you need any help or anything.  i’ll come back to see her later tonight.  let me know if they discharge her before then, ok?”

“yeah.”  a quick nod as she turns away, stopped by the name “eunsook” spoken in his voice.  there it is again.  her full name.  she bites back the heartbreak as she turns back around.

“yeah?”

“we should talk”

~

eunsook swallows when he hands her the familiar pale orange paper.  when he had left the cabin it had still been in his hands & neither of them had realized until it was far too late for her to get it back.  now they stand on a sidewalk half a block down from a hospital that holds memories for them both, a reminder that once upon a time they were not estranged.

“why you?”  the question is soft & the desire to lean into it is strong.

“she said i was the only one she could trust.”

“kind of like me.”

“yeah,” she chuckles, “kind of like you.”  the folded paper crinkles in her hand as she moves it back & forth between her fingers.  “the thing is, she wasn’t wrong but she wasn’t right either.  she should have said these things to the people who needed to hear them, the ones who would care.  we didn’t know each other well enough for her to send me what is essentially her last will & testament.  & then ask me to keep it secret.  it’s not fair & i can’t even get mad at her for it because she’s dead.”  she’s cringing when she looks up.  “sorry.”

“no, i understand.  she was rather dramatic in life.  it’s only suiting that it continues after.”  eunsook sighs.

“i don’t know what’s right anymore,” she says, her eyes cast down to the crinkled paper in her hands.  “maybe junghee wouldn’t want me to keep her secrets anymore.  maybe she would.  i honestly don’t know.  there’s more,” she says looking up, her sad eyes fixated on his.  “if you want to read them.  they explain everything, more even than you might want to know.”

he watches, thinking.  what he wanted to know wouldn’t be found in any of junghee’s letters because he had realized a long time ago that he didn’t actually care what she might have had to say.  not because he hadn’t loved her, not because of apathy or malice or sadness or anger.  but because nothing she might have written down would ever explain why she had chosen a veritable stranger to share her last words with.  why she hadn’t even left them with her own mother.

a story might be laid out on those pieces of paper but it wouldn’t actually mean anything.  because sterile words are one thing & vibrant actions are another & she had chosen to leave him with neither.  if she didn’t want him to know then he wouldn’t.  the only thing he felt for her now was gratitude that she had pushed eunsook his way.

“keep them.  if she didn’t want me to know then i just won’t know.”  her gaze falls away as she nods, pushing up her glasses absently.  the paper crinkles in her hand as she fidgets with her foot in the way that is so familiar to him now & a thread of hope gives him the courage to smile.

watching her discomfort makes him sad & he wants to kiss her & hold her close, comfort her until she’s smiling the way that makes his heart skip.  words are what he’s left with, the privilege of touch no longer his, & a thin thread of hope has him saying her name.

“sook.”

“yeah?” she replies, her eyes still to the side.

“will you look at me?  please?”  when their eyes meet hers are guarded & she pushes up her glasses while her toe stills.

“i can live without you, sook.  i’ve lived all these years without you & i can live all the years ahead without you too.”  the eyes watching him grow dark & he hurries to continue before she can get mad & leave.  “but i don’t want to.  i never even asked for the annulment papers.  i don’t want to be ‘that guy you once married’, i don’t want to just be your friend, someone you nod hello to at parties, that you only see a few times a year.  i want to spend the rest of my seconds, minutes, hours, days, years with you.  i don’t want to miss your nose scrunch or the way you twist your toe.”  the blush on her cheeks does not go unnoticed.  “i love that you knit & make things for other people.  i love that you read all the time.  i love your humor & your kindness & your willingness to try new things.  i don’t want to miss your smile, or not be there when thunder lights up the sky.  i want to stare at the moon with you & see its beauty.  i want to eat the cookies you bake & help you clean up the mess.  i want to race shopping carts & get massages & go to arcades with you.  if you’ll let me.  i love you, sook.”  her eyes narrow & the hands holding the paper separate as her arms cross at her waist.

“don’t say things you don’t mean.”  the tone of her statement is wary; not quite angry but not quite glad either, just enough to give the thread of hope a little extra strength.

“i wouldn’t say it if i didn’t.”

“you said i tricked you.”  the hurt in her voice frays at the thread & he steps forward, relieved when she doesn’t step back.

“that was mean.  i’m so sorry.”

“what if we hadn’t run into each other?  would you have even called?”

“yes, definitely.  as soon as gwiboon gave me back my phone.”

“what?”  he stifles a laugh as she pushes at her glasses, confused.

“she wouldn’t let me drunk dial you.”

“what are you talking about?” 

sighing, he replies, “long story short i showed up at your apartment drunk & she took my phone away & then left this morning without giving it back.”

“you spent the night together?”

“yes.  no.  sort of.  she made me sleep on the sofa.”

“ok.  if you didn’t have your phone, then how did you know to come to the hospital?”

“the hospital called your flat.”

“oh.”

“this was my screw-up eunsook.”

“no.  it was both of us.  we’re pretty good at hiding things aren’t we?”

“far too good.”

“do you want to have kids?”  minho frowns at the sudden turn but it’s thoughtful & that gives her hope.

“i don’t know.”

“you’re good with kids,” she says, biting her lip.

“i’m good at taxes.  that doesn’t mean that i want to be an accountant.”  the lip bit beneath her teeth is released & she blows out a breath, looking out at the street.

“so no kids.”

“that’s not what i’m saying at all.  why are you asking?”

“because...because these are things people getting married should talk about & we never did.”

“no, we didn’t.”

“we should.”

“we can.”

“i couldn’t go in, you know,” she says, changing the subject again.  “into the courthouse.  i tried.  for you i tried.”  her eyes shift up to his & then away & her toe begins to twist.  she catches herself & stops, puffing out a sigh & looking back up.  “i don’t want to be ‘that girl you once married’.  i want to be part of your everyday life.  i want to be your wife & your friend &...everything.  i want to be with you.  i love you.”

“then let’s do it.  let’s stay married.”  she starts laughing with little tears in her eyes, a laugh that turns to a quiet cry as she leans into him, resting her head on his chest.

“you can hug me now.”  laughing, he wraps his arms around her, kissing her hair.  when she moves back he leans down to kiss her forehead.  & then her nose.  & then her lips.

~

another sit-down meal with pen & paper & they decide on one kid, no pets, & eunsook is going to stay at home with the baby.  they wait six months to try & gift minho’s dad a “#1 granddad” coffee mug on father’s day that makes him cry while they rub his shoulders.

one week later they watch gwiboon & taemin get married outdoors.  it’s his second marriage & their last & the ceremony is light on religion.  ondrew is big enough to carry their rings down the aisle, smiling shyly at the adoring crowd, & handing over his charges when he reaches the front. he holds his dad’s hand & smiles at his almost-step-mom, forgetting that he was supposed to sit with his grandparents & eliciting gentle laughter from the guests.

they blow bubbles as the couple leaves & eunsook hugs them both good-bye.

christmas finds eunsook & taeyeon with identical bellies & pictures are taken constantly of the two of them with their backs pressed together.  taeyeon swears this is the last & jinki not so subtly confirms he has ensured that it absolutely is & minho & eunsook both laugh at taeyeon’s blush.

when eunsook wakes minho up to tell him she’s gone into labor he gets so excited that he almost leaves her behind, already behind the steering wheel in his boots & flannel pants before he realizes he has no shirt, keys, wallet, or wife with him. 

lots of deep breathing & nerve-wracking sounds come from her side of the car & he finds it difficult to keeps his eyes on the road.  he high-fives her after they get checked in & again when she smiles after the epidural takes effect.  once more when the baby is in his arms. 

they don’t name the baby junghee, though they both on their own think of it briefly.  instead they name the baby after minho’s mom which means naming the baby after minho’s grandmother which means watching her clap her hands & beam when they tell her another little minjung has joined the family.

all in all it’s a good life & a happy ending, even now when minjung’s piercing cry from across the room startles her parents so badly that they each fall off their respective sides of the bed.

“two more months.  think we can make it?”

“ask me in the morning when i’ve had some coffee.”

“deal.  whose turn is it?”

“if you have to ask then it’s yours.”

“rock paper scissors?”

“it’s three in the morning.”

“the perfect time for mindless games.”  eunsook grumbles & at the count of three throws out scissors that she eagerly slices minho’s paper with.  she snuggles back under the blankets & blinks sleepily while she watches her husband sing their baby back to sleep.  a beautiful voice, she thinks, just like his mom.