I found her standing by the viewing window of the nursery. With her arms crossed across her chest, Jihyuk looked inside to see a number of small beds containing newborn children. By then, I already knew what she was feeling, so I encircled my arms around her waist and leaned against her head. She sniffled silently, her shoulders heaving. “They’re pretty, right?” she said, and sighed. “When my mom was pregnant with Sunmi, I was so happy. I used to brag to all my classmates how I was finally going to have a baby sister. I loved children so much I wanted to be a teacher. No matter how hard it was, I knew it was going to be rewarding in the end. And then when you told me you didn’t want children, I broke my heart. But I told myself I was willing to wait,” she said. I could feel the tears stinging my eyes. Maybe it had been selfish of me to have asked her that before. “But what if… what if you changed your mind all of a sudden? What if, by some miracle, you suddenly wanted children? What can I do? I’m sick now. I can’t have children anymore.” Jihyuk took a deep breath and exhaled.

“Nobody said you can’t.”

“I can, but that would be so unfair,” she argued. “It’s like dragging someone else into my many problems.”

“You don’t have a lot of problems.”

“I have enough.” And then, turning to me with a sudden change in mood, she said, “Is Sunmi waiting? Let’s go.”

Before she could possibly drag me away, I peeked through the window. “Do you want to go in?” I asked, seeing a familiar nurse inside. I entered first, quickly muttering the situation to her. For the past year that I’ve been working in this hospital, I knew how considerate these people were. The nurse fortunately understood, without me having to plead or beg on my knees. I wanted Jihyuk to be happy, even just for a few minutes, so she could put her sickness to the back of her mind for a short while. I happily opened the door and motioned for Jihyuk to enter before the nurse left. She could hardly contain her happiness as she sat by a stool and watched as the infants slept soundly.

But one kid seemed to be restless as she – seeing the tag by the foot of her crib – kicked relentlessly before bursting out crying. Jihyuk turned to me, as if asking for permission, so I nodded at her. If I was left all alone in a room with a crying baby, I would stare at it until it stops crying. It was awkward for me to hold little arms and little legs and little heads. But Jihyuk was the opposite. She carried the child so gracefully, so effortlessly in her arms and pressed the baby’s head against her chest. Like a magic spell, the baby stopped crying, while I felt like tearing up at the sight in front of me. Jihyuk’s smile was so precious I almost believed she wasn’t sick. She was beautiful, so beautiful. Sick or not, crying or smiling, angry or talkative, I love her.

All too soon, the nurse in charge of the nursery returned. And as much as she didn’t want to let go, Jihyuk set the baby back down on the bed. She thanked the nurse a thousand times before holding my hand tightly and leading me out the doors. “We should go to Sunmi now,” she said, almost skipping with joy. She was happy with the fact that that was the closest thing she’ll ever get to a real family. With that smile, she was swallowing the basic consequences of her sickness – no children, no school plays and milk bottles and nine months of a swollen stomach, no Mothers’ Day cards or nursery rhymes or baby clothes. I don’t know what Jihyuk was thinking about, but my closest guess is that she’s having a mental breakdown.

***

I found her sleeping on the kitchen sink. It wasn’t like she suddenly saw the sink and wondered if it felt comfortable sleeping there and thought she might try it as well. It was a relapse, I knew – like a feeling of improvement and a sense of having moved on and suddenly the roof caved in and now she’s reliving her past nightmares. I carried her to the bedroom and tucked her in bed. She might have forgotten the right place to rest, but she hadn’t forgotten to prepare the clothes I sleep into.

The next morning felt like a normal one. As usual, she cooked breakfast and sat in her usual chair. Jihyuk had her hair tied up with a rubber band and sported a baggy shirt, that she had dug up on the depths of my closet, together with her favorite sweatpants. Midway through my breakfast, I stood up and went to the fridge. Without getting up from her seat, “What are you looking for?” she asked, chewing on a piece of bread.

“Milk,” I said, closing the door and shuffling back to my seat. “But I think we ran out.”

She nodded and stood up. When she returned, Jihyuk was already holding a mug of hot coffee, like she knew I was about to ask for one. Like she knew exactly what I was thinking of. I remembered one rainy morning when Jihyuk looked up from her book. She sat cross-legged on the floor and lazily flipped the pages with the tip of her nose. With her head tilted cutely, “Do you think we finish each other’s sentences?” she asked.

I didn’t look away from the computer screen, but I did stop typing. “Found it there?”

“Hmm.”

“Used in a good way or…?”

“Good way. Like, the two knew each other for so long that they finish each other’s sentences.”

I fought the urge to snort. “You don’t finish your sentences. Sometimes you tell a story and then leave me hanging because you remember something else. And I don’t know how your mind works. I can’t get in your head. So I don’t think so, baby.”

“But—“ Jihyuk searched for a bookmark, but when she couldn’t find any, only mentally made a note of the page she was in and closed it. “It’s not just literally finishing each other’s sentences. It’s like knowing each other well enough to know what he or she might be thinking about.”

I looked at her, and she was resting her chin on her elbow and was in deep thought. Shutting my laptop close, “Okay,” I said. “Let’s try. I’m thinking of something blue.”

“The day we went to the beach.”

I swear my eyes nearly left their sockets. “How did you know?”

She clapped her hands and laughed. “My turn.” Then Jihyuk cleared . “I’m thinking of something really important to me.”

“You’re thinking of me.” I batted my eyelashes as charming as I could.

But Jihyuk just laughed. “You love yourself too much.” Maybe I looked like I just got something on my eye. “You have lots of this too.”

“Ideas.” She rolled her eyes. Then I snapped my fingers as an idea popped into my mind. “Pens!”

“I always lose my pens, you know that.”

“But it’s important to you because you need it for writing and I have pens too.”

She kicked my foot in irritation and returned to her book. “But that’s not what I’m thinking about!” she said. It turned out Jihyuk was thinking about books. How was I supposed to know what she was thinking about? And as I sipped on my drink I thought of how beautiful she was, not by what she wears and not by what she does, but just in who she is. And the fact that she could mistaken me for a stranger any minute now doesn’t make me love her any less.

When it was time for me to go, my heart couldn’t stop pounding. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” I asked, mentally taking note of how fine and healthy she is when I leave so I could easily check if something went wrong while I was away. A simple bruise or a wound might just drive me insane. Jihyuk nodded reassuringly. I stared at her for a while, feeling sorry about her being alone all day with nothing to do and no one to talk to. “Look, it’s not like I’m isolating you or whatever,” I started. “And it’s not like you’re contagious, but…”

“I understand already, you don’t have to explain, really,” she cut me off.

I looked at her, still doubting. “Are you really sure you’ll be fine for the whole day just by yourself? You won’t go crazy and wild and go dancing on the streets?” She just laughed at me and smacked my arm, as if dismissing my concern and worry as panic and paranoia. Sometimes when Jihyuk was being like this, it was irritating, and sometimes I could even swear I hate her. But this wasn’t one of those times. “Can you assure me that you’ll be fine until I get home?” I pressed, to which she just nodded. I sighed, thinking my nagging has become too much.

Jihyuk clasped her hands behind her and smiled at me widely, like a child on her first day to school. It didn’t help me feel less anxious, though. I brushed her hair away from her face and let my hand stay by her cheeks. “Eat well, okay? If you want anything, I’m just a call away. Lock the door, close the windows…”

She rolled her eyes at me. “We live on the seventh floor. Even if I leave the windows open all the way, no thief would get in. Unless it’s a bird or a fly or a really really desperate thief.”

“Oh.” I gulped and she laughed at my mistake. “Whatever!” I exclaimed. “Lock the door as soon as I leave, okay? Rest more and read some books or something. I’ll be home before you know it.” I added before she could push me out of the house. “Take care of yourself. Don’t forget to eat and drink water and call me if there’s anything.” Friction was against me as my heels slid on the floor easily. She wouldn’t slam the door, would she? I wasn’t even halfway out the door.

“You’re going to be late,” she said.

“Wait, Jihyuk, I—“ One last push and I was out the door. My head almost slammed against it after she shut it close. “—love you.” I sighed. At least I was sure she was going to be safe.

 ***

I found her at the police station.

“W-what happened? Are you hurt? How did you get here?” I said as soon as I approached her. Jihyuk remained seated on the chair by the officer’s desk. Her eyes were blank and her hands fidgeted like she was nervous. She swung her feet across the floor. Her slippers were mismatched and she was still wearing the same clothes I last saw her in before I left for work.

I turned to the police officer. “What happened?”

“I found her in the streets walking aimlessly,” he explained. “It looked like she was lost and couldn’t find her way home. When I approached her and tried to talk to her, she just looked at me for a while and continued walking. I noticed her slippers,” he said, glancing at her feet. “So I thought there must have been something wrong. I asked if she ran away from home, but just the same, she didn’t answer me. I saw her phone in her pocket to try and look for her name. Identification purposes.” I nodded. “We always search for the mom first, but I found none. And then I called a contact, which turned out to be…”

He waited for me to finish his sentence. “I’m her husband,” I quickly told him. “I’m sorry about all this, officer. She’s…” I gulped. “She has Alzheimer’s.” He looked at me questioningly. “It won’t happen again. I’m sorry. I left her home alone and she might have gotten out… I’m just glad you found her though. I couldn’t thank you enough,” I glanced at Jihyuk, who was still lost in her own world, looking dazed and confused. “I mean, what if she crossed the road and a car came by and…” I shook my head. I couldn’t even think about it. “So thank you,” I said, shaking his hand in gratitude.

“I’m glad I found her,” he said. “Lots of bad people are on the streets. Even school boys, too. Sometimes they make fun of people like her. You know, throw stuff at her or play pranks.” Another officer called for him, so he waved us off. “She’s free to go. Look after her better.”

When he was gone, Jihyuk was still gone too. Like she was physically present but mentally absent. I squatted in front of her and watched her. “Jihyuk,” I called out softly, catching her gaze. She still nervously play with her fingers, twirling her fingers over the other and doing it again. “Jihyuk, I’m here. It’s Donghae. We’re at the police station, but we’re going to go home.” I spoke as softly and soothing as I could. “Jihyuk, it’s me.” I said, holding either side of her face, waiting for her eyes to light up in recognition.

When a few minutes passed and she still wasn’t talking, I put my arm around her shoulder and helped her to the car. She stopped fidgeting, and instead looked out the window.

“I was just going to the supermarket.”

It almost gave me a heart attack hearing Jihyuk speak all of a sudden. But after the one-second shock, I quickly regained composure, hoping she wouldn’t get terrified of my actions. I looked at her and figured I didn’t need to pretend. She wasn’t looking at me in the first place. I took a deep breath before speaking. “Why did you need to go?”

“I was just going to buy something.”

“What something? You could’ve told me and I could’ve bought it for you instead.”

“That would beat the purpose.”

“Of what?”

“Of buying it.”

“What is it?”

“You said you needed it.”

“What?” I fought the urge to shout.

Jihyuk’s eyes never left the spot outside the window. “Milk. You said you ran out.”

Sometimes I wanted to get inside her head for once to know what she was thinking about, what she was feeling, whether she was just lying or not. I look at her form the corner of my eye and wonder if I really did know her, or I just wish I did.