“He means it, I think,” Sungjong said as he punched his card in. Daehyun was waiting for him to be done.

“Yeah, you’re dying to believe him.”

Sungjong didn’t speak anymore. He walked out of the hospital quietly, and got into his car. He only shrugged when Daehyun wished him goodnight. Actually, he was dying to get home. He couldn’t spend another moment at the hospital, where in half a day, his world had fallen apart.

He had never been this confused. He wished he had someone to discuss it with – Daehyun was no help because he was against Myungsoo absolutely. Sungyeol would be no better of course.

Suzy, he thought, Suzy can help me.

But after a moment, he shook off that thought. He had hurt Suzy enough; he didn’t know how much influence he had over her now, but he didn’t even want to take the chance. He could call Woohyun, but he already knew what the elder would say.

His house was as empty and silent as he had left it in the morning. There was no sign of Bubble Pop in the living room; nowadays she had taken to sleeping on the armchair in the study. He thought, his heart fluttering slightly, that Pop would probably have persuaded him to believe Myungsoo, if she could speak.

While changing out of his clothes, something fell to the floor from his pocket. He picked it up, thinking it was probably a bill but when he found the plain envelope, he had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

His first instinct was to throw it into the fireplace. Instead, he placed it on the bedside table.

While showering and having his dinner, he thought about the envelope. He had a shrewd guess about what it contained, but the bigger question was, what should he do with it?

It didn’t matter, Myungsoo could have all the excuses in the world but it wouldn’t matter to him. It wouldn’t matter because everyone else was right – he was stubborn, unreasonably so, and he had no wish to change that anytime soon.

But even then, the envelope drew him like a moth to the flames. As he paced in his bedroom, it seemed to call out to him and it became increasingly difficult to resist its pull. He reached out for it, when the phone rang. He jumped out of his skin, he hadn’t expected a call this late.

“Hello,” he said; his voice sounding hoarse.

“Sungjong, are you okay?”

It was Suzy. He had to say he was shocked. Of all the people who could have called to check on his wellbeing at this hour, Suzy was the least possible since she hadn’t been at the hospital. In fact, she didn’t even know about his meeting with Myungsoo at the hospital, or about Jiyeon. Sungjong had wanted to tell her a few times, but something had held him back.

“I’m fine Suzy, why do you ask?”

“I – are you sure?”

“Yes. Look, what is this about?”

Suzy seemed to hesitate, but then she started speaking rapidly.

“Your boss, he called me. He said that you fainted at work today -”

“Wait, hold up.” Sungjong needed some time to process what she had said. “Sungyeol hyung called you?”

“Erm…yes.”

He couldn’t believe it; Suzy most definitely was hiding something.

“He knows your number?”

“Um, yes. I gave it to him when we met.”

“And he called you tonight?”

“Yes, minutes ago.” Suzy’s voice shook slightly, and then it hit him.

“Suzy, you’re lying. Sungyeol hyung is on a trip, away from the office. He doesn’t know I fainted.”

“I -” She stuttered before breaking into tears. Sungjong heard her crying into the phone, wondering what else was in store for him.

“Who was it? Tell me truthfully.”

She sniffled.

“M-myungsoo.”

His blood ran cold.

“You have contact with him?”

“N-no, I swear I didn’t. He suddenly called today, I didn’t even know it was him at first. But you know, my number never changed, he had it all along.”

He believed her. What he couldn’t believe was the nerve of Myungsoo.

“What did he say?”

“He – he talked about you, and his fiancée. And he told me to take care of you.”

Sungjong gulped down a curse.

“I’m fine Suzy. I will see you tomorrow.”

She didn’t argue. He could tell that she was as shaken as he was. Maybe her world was also going upside down. He thought about why everything was spinning out of control so rapidly – he had been fine all this time.

Or was he?

At least his situation hadn’t been so traumatic.

It’s ridiculous, I want out – he decided.

He took up the envelope and slid the white paper out of it. He would read it, and he would end it. He wouldn’t be captive to this ache anymore.

It was written on the hospital pad, and the writing was very familiar, too familiar – neat, spaced-out evenly.

Dear Sungjong,

I know I don’t deserve this. I know I can’t simply write a letter and try to explain myself. My apologies can’t make up for anything, much less everything. But I want you to hear me out, I want you to know the truth. Will this letter be enough to salvage everything I had done? No, of course not. The pain I’ve put you through, I can’t even begin to think about it. But if it is of any relief to you, then I can say, I have suffered as well. If not more, then just as much.

Here Sungjong paused and looked around, tears pooling in his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was the familiar writing, or the actual words that had had an impact on him. He didn’t know what to believe, and what to flick away.

He read on.

Yes Sungjong, every minute I was away from you, I am away from you, is painful. It hurts so much, at times I think I’ll go crazy. But I stayed strong, for Jiyeon. I don’t know if you’ll believe me or not but Jiyeon is a friend, she’s always been a friend. But when I tried to give her the place you had in my life, I knew I had made a mistake. My heart rejected her badly, and I knew you couldn’t be replaced. I was mad when I left you, Sungjong, I won’t lie. The fight we got into that night, it was terrible and I was angry. I was so mad for days, so mad with you…but then I grew mad with myself.

Sungjong knew the feeling – he had felt something similar.

At first his anger at Myungsoo knew no bounds. Then it had started to wane, replaced by anger directed at himself. Funnily enough, he used to believe that Jieyon was Myungsoo’s friend, even though she was his secretary. Not once had he ever doubted her intentions, never would he have believed back then what she could become for Myungsoo.

Back then, he hadn’t believed Myungsoo and he could exist without each other. That they had for about 23 years was a miracle. But now as he read, he couldn’t blame Jiyeon, not really. She was probably just there at the wrong time, or the right time, depending on the point of view.

But when the anger was gone, when I saw what I had done – I committed suicide, and nothing less – my heart ached badly. It would have been easier if it was only me, but I know I broke your heart and that didn’t let me get a wink of sleep at night. Jiyeon’s sickness only made it worse – I looked at her, and I saw you. I saw her pain and I thought about yours, what you must be going through. I’m not being arrogant here, I know how much you loved me, I know that your love is bigger than infinity.

It broke me badly, but I couldn’t run to you like I wanted to. Jiyeon’s condition wasn’t good and with all the work to arrange for her treatment – I didn’t have a spare second. But I didn’t want to call you, because I hurt you so much and one call wasn’t going to change (it’s ironic I think but that call is now a letter, and I’m sitting here and hoping it will change everything). But all this busy hours, taking care of Jiyeon into the night, nothing took you off my mind. I always thought about, and only you.

Sungjong could almost hear his heart rip apart. It sounded like him, completely, how he couldn’t get Myungsoo out of his mind, how he spent every waking hour thinking about him. But he had never imagined Myungsoo was hurting as well; he had thought that Myungsoo somewhere was happy, recommencing his life, trading new habits for the old ones. In a way, Myungsoo actually had been the more generous of the two – he had thought about how Sungjong felt.

As tears started to prickle his eyes more, he went back to the letter.

Sungjong, I don’t know how much of this you will believe. But wasn’t that what was so wonderful about us – we trusted each other, we believed each other. There were no lies between us, and if we wanted to look away, we told each other so. Tell me Sungjong, tell me you believe me.

At this point his handwriting became frantic and Sungjong had to pause and try to decipher what he had written. He neared the reading lamp by the table, holding the paper to the light when he noticed the places where ink had dissolved and spread out. Myungsoo was crying – he chanted under his breath. Myungsoo didn’t cry, not even when he went to visit his father’s grave, but right here was the proof that Myungsoo had been crying. Sungjong couldn’t believe it – he pictured Myungsoo crying himself to sleep while Jiyeon was at the hospital – it seemed surreal but yet, he had a feeling that had happened.

I guess I’m begging you here Sungjong, I’m trying to make you believe. These aren’t excuses for what I have done, these aren’t reasons why you should forgive me. I just want you to believe that I still love you, I’ve always loved you, and I will love you forever. If you do believe me Sungjong, if you miss me, if you still love me (I can barely dare to hope) – then I want to offer you my heart again, the heart that is broken, that has gone through a lot, a heart that has always been yours – I offer it again.

Don’t tell me it’s too late, don’t tell me you’ve waited for too long and given up, don’t tell me you’ve lost the feelings (even though I’m being unreasonable here) but please Sungjong. Please.

The letter wasn’t signed but Sungjong didn’t need Myungsoo’s signature or name to know what the letter meant. But he didn't know what it meant for them. Was there a them after all this time? He had started thinking of them as two distant characters in time - their happiness nothing he could relate to anymore.

His mind was agitated, he felt as if he was at the sea, being tossed away by stormy waves. Of course he couldn’t just recover from such a letter – so much had been said there, so much of what he wanted to hear, what he had previously believed to be false – it was as if he had been sacrificed to the ocean where his only hope was to calm the bitter waves. But try as he might, he wouldn’t arrange his feelings, nor could he separate them from Myungsoo’s.

He wanted to know whether the overwhelming emotion of being together with Myungsoo again was his own, or generated from Myungsoo’s letter.

He was in mortal anguish.