Time seemed to stop, when she said those words. Of course, I understood she must have felt really hurt. She knew she was dying, after all. It was just…she seemed too cheerful to even think of such things. Too sensible. Too intelligent.

But then again, it was almost always those who understood too much. It was almost always them, who took their own lives away.

“Back then,” she began. Her eyes were fixed on something distant. The past, perhaps. She was there, sitting in front of me, but at the same time, she wasn’t. “When I was diagnosed, I kept on thinking, ‘I would rather die on purpose, than have cancer take everything away from me.’”

I bit my lower lip. Having nothing to say, I looked down, and focused on the satin feel of my shorts, lingering on my fingertips as I ran my right hand across my thigh. I stopped when I reached my knee.

“But then, after being so incomprehensible, people stayed by my side. Good things still happened to me, and one day, I finally realized,” she took a deep breath, sighed with satisfaction, and drew an imaginary heart against the clear window with her index finger. “Life is too precious of a gift to dispose it, just like that. And Jamie Sullivan was right: God’s plan is greater. Why would I deny myself of experiencing that privilege?”

“You’re a really strong girl,” I remarked.

“I’m not strong by myself,” she replied. She glanced at the clock, hanging on the wall behind me. “I think we have to get some sleep now. We leave early tomorrow.”

She stayed on the bed, while I made myself comfortable on the sofa. The thing was, although we did not connect through , I understood her better. Our relationship began with a polite deal, with nothing special to mark it down. Honestly, I only agreed, because a part of me was painfully aware she loved me more. It was a safe choice, considering we would play the role of couples with no strings attached. Thinking about it now, my reasons were twisted, and selfish. Sunye may have been aware of it, but she carried on, anyway.

Sunye died, nevertheless. No miracles happened, as far as her illness was concerned. The cancer did not disappear. It consumed her health. She died a peaceful death. But the legacy she left, and the impact she left in my life?

That is the miracle.

<:>

I dropped Sunye off her home, and even entered their house to greet her parents. She quickly changed, and told me she would return the shirt she borrowed once it was washed. I said it was no big deal; she could keep it.

I apologized to her parents, because I kept their only daughter out too late. They said it was all right, because we informed them beforehand. As Sunye went upstairs to rest, and when her mother stepped out to buy some groceries, we stayed in the living room to talk. Her father and I.

“What happened yesterday?” that was his first question. And I found it natural. He was her father, after all. And I was the boyfriend: the dashing knight who would sweep his precious princess away off her feet, and away from their castle.

“It was too late for us to go home,” I answered. “So we rented a single room, and just talked. The topics varied, but she asked me if I knew why Bibles were present in hotels.”

I looked at her father; his eyes softened up. Ever so slightly, his shoulders slumped, and his posture relaxed. He raked his hand through his graying hair. His lips wore a melancholic curve.

“Sunye had a difficult time, accepting her condition,” he said. “And as her parents, we couldn’t do anything but feel helpless. She’s young, with dreams and hopes of having a good future. But all of those shattered,” he snapped his fingers. “Just like that.”

I my lower lip. “She told me. But in the end, she said life’s a gift.”

He nodded, and smiled. “Sunye has always admired you, Sunggyu. When she transferred schools, she was sad, because she wouldn’t be able to see you regularly.”

My eyes widened. “I…we rarely even spoke back then.”

He nodded. He knew. “But, you encouraged her. I just thought I’d tell you.”

<:>

I arrived home, only to be greeted by mother and Sang Moon, who were making bubble tea in the kitchen. I knew father was working, and Suzy—I felt she would be upstairs, writing.

“Did Sunye get home okay?” mother asked.

I kissed her on the forehead, and ruffled Sang Moon’s hair. “She did. I’m sorry for not going home last night.”

She waved her hand, gesturing it was okay. “I would rather have you rest, Sunggyu. It was a long drive, after all. Get freshened up; we’ll have this and watermelons later.”

“Yes,” I smiled, and retreated upstairs. Sure enough, Suzy was in her room, typing away in front of her computer. She must have felt my presence, because she looked into my direction, and smiled.

“Welcome home, Sunshine.”

I smiled back at her. “I’m back, Summer. What have you been up to?”

“Just writing,” she answered. “It’s the holidays, so I’ve the time to do just that.”

I entered her room, and stood beside her. “Aren’t you spending too much time online?”

“Aren’t you spending too much time with your girlfriend?”

I paused at her remark, and thinking she might have gone too far, she quickly apologized.

“But,” she scratched the back of her neck, trying her best to salvage the conversation. “I reached my thousandth subscriber yesterday, see?”

Suzy hovered her mouse over the follower count. I patted her shoulders. “Good job. I have to take a shower now. Mother and Sang Moon are making snacks. Do you not want to help out?”

“I boiled the pearls for them,” she reasoned out. “And mom said I could write now.”

“Of course,” I grinned, and left her room.

Truth be told, I was affected by her words. I couldn’t do anything about it, though. Suzy was correct, when she said I was spending more days outside with Sunye than playing around with them. But for the both of us—for Sunye and I—that was the very thing we were trying to make the most out of: time.

<:>

Sunye took another sick leave several weeks later, and she told me she would call, once it was okay to visit her. I left it at that, because I felt if I further pushed myself towards her, I would be too good of an actor, playing the role of her boyfriend.

At that time, my car had to be checked for maintenance, so I had to commute. I was surprised, however, to spot Suzy, sitting on the flat bench, situated in front of the convenience store near our house. She was still in her uniform, but something about the look in her eyes—and scratches on her knees—indicated she got into trouble. Not to mention the dirt on her clothes.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“This is the farthest I can go,” she nodded at the path that led upwards. It was the only route to our house. “I can’t walk there. My ankle hurts, even if I sprayed on it.”

I caught a glimpse of a freeze spray, sticking out of her open backpack, resting beside her. “You keep one of those?”

“Sungjong gave it to me. He plays volleyball. Have I not told you?”

Sighing, I slung my messenger bag around my neck, and buckled her backpack in front of my chest. I squatted in front of her. “Hop on.”

Without a word, she did just that. The last time I carried her like this, was when she fainted in the abandoned house because Sang Moon pulled a prank on her. Fear swept over me, then, because I haven’t looked after the siblings well. That was ages ago, and everything about Suzy changed: her weight and height, and how her head fitted on my shoulder; her scent, warmth, and the soft lumps I felt against my back—which weren’t there before.

“Don’t lean too much,” I said. “You’re heavier than you look.”

“I had a tough day, so please,” she sighed. Her breath was hot against my skin. “Don’t tease me.”

“Just what kind of trouble did you get into, Bae Suzy?” I asked. “Did you fight someone again?”

“No,” she promptly answered. “I fell off a tree.”

“Why would a girl in her school uniform climb a tree?” I walked at a slower pace, because I missed spending my time with her like this. I wanted the moment to last.

“A cat was stuck in there, and the owner was this really young boy. He was crying, so I figured I’d help.”

“Cats are good at climbing and falling,” I pointed out. “But you—you seem to be an expert in crashing. Didn’t Sungjong accompany you home?”

“He can’t skip practice, so he gave me his spray, instead,” Suzy stirred, and held on a little tighter. “It’s a good thing he managed to sneak out for a bit. But you got home quick. I was expecting Sang Moon to find me. Weren’t you out with Sunye unnie?”

“She’s absent.”

“Again?”

“Yeah.”

A pause. “Do you miss her?”

I kept silent for a short moment, and gave my arms a nudge to secure my grip on Suzy. “Hm.”

“Hey.”

“What is it?”

“I miss your ramen with cheese. Can we eat that once we’re home?”

I smiled. “But of course.”

Nobody was home when we arrived. I gently placed Suzy on the sofa, and quickly prepared an icepack for her. I checked her ankle; she was right. All she got was a sprain.

“Does unnie get sick easily?” she asked. I was already in the kitchen, waiting for the water to boil.

“She does,” I reached for the ramen in the cupboard.

“Do you like weak girls?”

I paused briefly, upon hearing her question. No. It was not like that at all. I ripped the packet apart, poured the seasoning into the water and watched it turn the transparent, burbling liquid to orange red.

“Sunye has a weak body,” I began. “But her soul is really strong.”

Silence, then, “I see.”

<:>

It was around one in the morning, when my phone started ringing.

“Look at what the cat dragged in,” I remarked.

A weak chuckle ensued. “I’m sorry for not calling sooner.”

“You’re all right, Sunye. Why are you not asleep yet?”

“I’m just about to,” she replied. “But I want you to do me a favor.”

“What is it?”

“Please play the piano for me.”

“We do not talk for nine days and this is what you ask me?”

“You’ve been counting?” she returned.

“I am painfully conscious of the time nowadays.”

She laughed. “So, may you?”

I made my way downstairs, where our upright piano was, and switched the lights on. I set my phone to handsfree, and placed it on the lid. “What song would you like?”

“Anything you want.”

I stayed quiet to think; with my eyes closed, I started recalling the kind of music Sunye liked. She generally favored melodies that were light to the ears. Something that seemed to remind me of pastel skies and sunshine; falling cherry blossom petals; dandelions on a fine day; calm rivers and seas.

“Through the Kaleidoscope,” I suggested. “Would you like that?”

I felt the smile in her voice when she said, “Yes.”

She was silent on the other end of the line as I played, wondering if mother and father would wake up, along with Suzy and Sang Moon. I took my time, though. Even if I actually was not a fan of doing simple events like that. I figured if it was Sunye, I wouldn’t even feel bad about it. Because it’s her. Just her.

When I finished the song, we let the silence linger. Finally, she said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Good night, Sunggyu.”

“Good night.”

Beep.

Then, I sat there, completely quiet, pondering. If I could still take losing another person, and if I would finally cry. I began to wonder, if I was actually a kind and compassionate person, or if I simply had the audacity to give myself off as a decoy for a pretend, ideal relationship. All because my emotions were too far gone, and I began to not care anymore, whether I went out with someone I genuinely liked or not.

Maybe.

The truth was, at that time, I began to lose hold of my identity. I was playing roles for too long, I actually forgot who I was without my mask. That very thought bothered me.

<:>

Sunye and I managed to meet up two days later. We stayed in the café, where we spent our time talking on the day we first met. It was also the very place, where Sunny and I rested to catch up with each other. It was the nearest one, and we seemed to warm up to the place.

Summer was about to end, then. Empty cicada shells scattered the pavements, and the afternoons became cooler. Soon, the leaves would turn to crimson, and fall.

‘Winter’s spring,’ as Suzy would term autumn.

“Why so serious?” she playfully asked, in that witty tone of hers. As if the back of her palms were not abused by needle pricks, and the past days were not painful for her.

“Lee Sunye,” I began.

“What is it, Kim Sunggyu?”

I looked at her, and asked, “Who am I?”

She sat still for a moment, and I held my breath. With a lilting laughter that could outshine any spring day, she said, “You’re God’s child.”

I shook my head slowly. “That can’t be it.”

Sunye cocked her head. “Why not?”

“I haven’t done anything worthy—”

“Hey,” she cut in. “Do you seriously think God’s up there, weighing your deeds until you become worthy to be called His child?”

I did not reply—couldn’t.

“Kim Sunggyu, don’t cheapen His grace.”

When I heard those words from her, I felt that my heart was about to burst.

"What marvelous love the Father has extended to us! Just look at it—we’re called children of God! That’s who we really are. But that’s also why the world doesn’t recognize us or take us seriously, because it has no idea who he is or what he’s up to."

- 1 John 3:1

Bless.
Page 55 (Embrace Grace), though.