The street view from her tiny apartment window relaxed her in ways she couldn’t explain. The skyline a pure blue with rolling clouds, birds flying in flocks, and towers stretching as high as they could, was an almost dreamy sight. It reminded her of the most heart pulling melodramas she used to watch on TV. Romantic winds, heart-to-heart talks on an evening night full of sparkling stars, and a beautiful view. A nostalgic sight, yet a heart calming one. A reminder that she’d lived far too long.

Eighty-year-old Namjoo could smell the fresh breeze of spring washing over her. Blooming flowers, a world revived from the cold dead. Now the sun was shining brightly, the grounds clear. Rain would come in place of hard driven snow, and a cold world replaced by warmth. A repeat of the world’s most natural cycle, like when a heart turns bitter only to be warmed again.

Hair the deepest silver and skin shriveled, deepened with the lines of age Namjoo pulled the window up. The room was blasted with an early spring wind, washing out the remnants of last night’s lavender scent. On the night table to her left sat a framed picture of her on her wedding day. She had been dressed in a simple white gown with hair cascading down her back, her groom, Yook Sungjae, dressed in stark black at her side. 

In young age her skin had been flawless, smooth, and soft. Her eyes had been wide and big. Now they were intensely outlined by aged skin. Her youth had been dried out, buried deeply beyond her years – none of which she regretted. She had become a grandmother of ten grandchildren; had given birth to two – a boy and a girl.

Namjoo had always looked forward to old age. Had always wanted to grow old and pass on. Her children had denied her her wish. They had given her the joy of motherhood and Sungjae had been good to her, always. During their 55 years of marriage everything had been her way, with the husband yielding to her. Having been married at 25 had not been her wish, he had known so.

Everyone knew it.

A knock at the door made her turn around. Tall and lean Kang Sunwoo, her fifth grandson, was on the other side. His dark black hair slicked back, his pretty eyes inherited from her daughter. Sharp cheekbones, sharp jawline, sharp chin, and most of all, a sharp lawyer.

“Hi, Grandma,” he smiled.

“You’re here?” she extended an arm out to give him a hug. “Come, sit down. You’re coming out of nowhere today. What are you up to?”

She led him toward the bed where he sat beside her.

“I got contacted by a client,” Sunwoo explained.

“Is that so?” she mused. “What kind of new case is this? I know that whatever it is, you’ll handle it well.”

“Well, it’s not really a case.” He slightly shrugged.

“Oh?” she asked. “Then what is it?”

Shifting to better face her he met with her eyes and gently touched her hand. “Grandma, mom said you’re from Pohang?”

“Of course. What about it?”

“Do you by any chance remember a Chinese man?” Namjoo’s brows moved upward, almost hesitating to answer.

“What about it?”

“There’s someone looking for you.” Her grandson continued. “His name is Luhan.”

56 years ago…

It was the crack of dawn. The world had turned a gloomy gray outside. Autumn had set in with a chilly breeze, but Namjoo was warm inside the tiny apartment a few blocks down from the office she worked at. It was still the same place she resided when she was still studying. Her family wasn’t wealthy, but had had enough to support her education to make sure she was well. From toiling day and night on a fishing boat while her mother washed the neighbor’s clothes to make ends meets, they made and saved enough to make sure she lived well.

Her father and mother exactly fifty years of age, lived together on the other side of town. Being the only child, the only daughter, she was the only one they could depend on. She was supposed to live out the life they couldn’t, fulfill their successions. One reason why she had to study well and snatch a good job, which she was on her way toward, and she knew they would make sure her future was greater than theirs. No parent wanted their child to live like they had. Namjoo knew her parents were determined to make sure she went off well. The burden was heavy and the pressure great. Also one reason why she loved living alone.

Twenty-four-year-old Namjoo’s eyes swayed from the window when the bathroom door clicked open. Her lanky boyfriend walked out after having just taken a shower. Her eyes traced his damp brown hair and the towel draped around his neck before roving over the new t-shirt she’d bought him a day ago. It fit him well, she thought to herself satisfied.

She had met third class Luhan when he was loitering around her campus, mistaking him for a lost student only to realize later on that he was no student. His family had migrated from Guangzhou, China without a visa. His father currently worked at the main seaport transporting materials from ship to ship with the lowest pay. He had no mother and there was no money for education. For a while she leant him her books out of sympathy and became his free tutor, all before the simple relationship blossomed into something she couldn’t tell anyone about.

“Why are you up?” he asked, a smile on his face before sitting down beside her. Their arms brushed and her heart galloped.

“You were going to leave quietly again,” she said. “And for one thing, that’s not fair.”

“You’ll be tired. You work early.” He brushed her hair back. Namjoo gazed into his child-like eyes and kissed him. Like what her parents did to her, she placed her dreams of happiness on him. Unfair as it was it worked quietly for her.

“Doesn’t matter.” She whispered and hugged him, burying her head upon his shoulder. “I don’t really care about it.”

A good life really had no meaning to her. So what if she lived successfully? It wasn’t her wish. Whether she lived in rags and in a shack, she wanted to be happy in her own way possible.

He squeezed her in return before letting go. “My dad will be home in a few hours. I have to get back before he does.”

But her fate had never been hers to control.

“Ok.”

They stared at one another before he gave her another kiss and was off. Dropping back onto the bed she rolled over onto Luhan’s empty spot, running her hand over the leftover warmth.

Namjoo about dozed off before her phone rang, forcing her eyes open in surprise. Sitting up she leaned over for the phone and held it to her ear. It was her mother calling.

“Make some time this weekend,” the woman said.

“Why?” Namjoo wondered.

“Don’t ask why.” The woman hushed her. “If I tell you to come, just come home.” Then she hung up. Once they beckoned her she was left with no choice but to go running to them, almost like a dog. Placing the phone back onto the receiver she closed her eyes.

Three hours later she was at work, eyes constantly on the clock. Life had always been dreary with no clear outlook. All Namjoo knew was that she had to aim for good grades and a good job would follow up. She lived aimlessly until she met Luhan and suddenly, everything seemed so much clearer. Namjoo inherited a will, she began wanting, and she began to feel like she belonged. Most of all, she had the ability to feel immersed in a life changing prospect that genuinely meant something to her. 

And something, someone, including herself, was actually worth living for.

Luhan.

Once the clock struck four she grabbed her bag and clocked out of work. On nights, usually most, when his father reported to the seaport for work Luhan would sneak out to come stay with her. He was her solace, her breath of life, and all the reasons why she had to live. Then in the wee hours of the morning would return home to prepare a sumptuous meal for his exhausted father and go to his low paid job at a gas station. And when he left she would go to work.

No one knew about them. Not her friends, not her family. Not even Luhan’s father. For sure, her parents would have her neck and Luhan’s father wasn’t around enough to care.

Wild flowers were blooming beside the staircase and gardeners were in the process of t nearby shrubs. They nodded toward her in greeting when she walked by and smiled in return. Starting down the block toward her apartment her mind filled up with questions pertaining what her mother might want to talk about this weekend. A dreadful feeling crept up her spine. Her instincts were almost always right about what was to come. She knew she wouldn’t like it.

“Namjoo!”

Pausing in her steps she turned in the direction of the voice to see Luhan standing across the street on her left with a grocery bag in his right hand, waving at her with his bright smile. Lighting up, she smiled and waved in return.

In her dark life he was her ray of light, the one who allowed her to live how she liked. He listened and always remained on her side. If she wanted, he would kick the world with her.  

“What are you doing?” she asked when he jogged over. “I thought you worked today.”

“You thought,” he pointed out then tapped her cheek with a smile before taking her hand, “come on. I’ll cook something good for you today.”

And it was good like this. She really enjoyed being with him so simply and happily, with her heart fluttering and feeling alive. Luhan, the only one she could ever be passionate about. Because she loved him and he loved her so.

That weekend she went over to her parents’ as was expected of her. They served her lunch and sat with her. Their faces were stoic and serious, eyes full of expectation. At first Namjoo ate silently, almost awkwardly. They wanted something, she could feel it.

“What is it? Why aren’t you eating?” she wondered, her spoon hovering in low-midair. Then finally setting it down, “What is it? Is something wrong?”

As if deciding to be the one to break the news her father breathed a smile onto his face, “You remember the neighbors that used to live next door? Their son often came over to play with you. Do you remember?”

Namjoo dug back into her memory and nodded. The scrawny boy’s image came to in her head. He’d been her partner in crime for a good number of years and they’d gotten in trouble together at school a number of times, enough for their parents to ground them separately. “Of course. Didn’t they move away to Seoul, because his father got a job there?”

“That’s right,” her father nodded, glad that she remembered. “They’ll be here in a bit.”

“What? Why? Are they visiting? Or is there an occasion?” Namjoo asked a little surprised at the sudden news. As far as she recalled, their families were good friends but there was nothing beyond special that required them to keep in constant touch with each other.

“Namjoo,” her mother finally spoke up. She was a timid woman, soft spoken, and gentle in nature. Her parents were both small and fragile in scale but they were the strongest and bravest people she knew. Both their heads were literally gray mops now since her mother had stopped retouching her hair. They were aging at a slow speed, but it was obviously visible in their appearance that soon they would be weak and in need of her more so than now.

“How would you feel about getting married?” the elderly woman finished.

The spoon in her hand literally clattered against her plate. She gasped, “What?”

“Sungjae likes you. His parents will also look after you well and treat you good, your father and I won’t ever have to worry about you if you’re with them. Look at how well off they are and most of all, they know you like their own daughter,” her mother went on. “Get married to him. Hmm?”

Something exploded within her chest. A dark hole engulfed her speechless.

“They’ll be here soon. Stay and greet his parents,” her mother directed.

The rest of the afternoon was hell for Namjoo. While her chest welled up with agony she could not bring to say what the deepest part of her heart wanted her to say. To choose between a child’s duty to her parents or stay loyal to her heart’s desires. She struggled to stay cheerful, give the impression her parents expected of her because she couldn’t disappoint them. After countless hours she was freed and drove back home at the slowest speed possible, in the deepest silence possible.

On her doorstep sat a dark figure she instantly recognized. She ached, her heart throbbed. Anger, frustration, and helplessness consumed her. The circumstances surrounding her pinned her against the wall, like a lion to its prey. She couldn’t run nor could she fight. Where was the line between right and wrong? Namjoo could feel her strength being gnawed away by the fangs of destiny. How to fight it without feeling guilty?

It was the first time Namjoo felt she couldn’t go to him, yet he was the comfort she yearned for. She wanted Luhan to breathe life into her, wrap those firm arms around her, and tell her everything would work out. That he would make the world come to their side. And she would believe him, because she loved him even if it didn’t happen. Because she loved him.

Burned out from the entire afternoon she gestured for him to stay in place and sunk down next to him. As expected, he was warm. The love flowed from him so nicely she wanted to melt.  

“You want to do this outside?” he questioned when she buried her face against his neck and curled up into him.

“Let the whole world look then,” she muttered and listened to him breathlessly laugh.

Linking an arm around her he leaned his head against hers, “So how was the trip?”

“I don’t know,” she quietly muttered, comforted by the way his fingers combed her hair in the gentlest manner. A moment of complete silence washed over them. It felt natural and perfect, just the two of them with their hearts beating, as if sharing a conversation no one else could hear. This time belonged to them. They were perfect for each other.

It should have stayed that way…

A golden glow streaked the sky bidding it farewell. Clouds had come up and stars were becoming visible. In just an hour or two the moon would be fully in the place of the sun. Night would come and so would another day. Namjoo wanted the night to last a long while. If time continued passing on so would another day when her parents told her to get married, and they would be determined to make her say yes.

“You know,” she softly began, “there’s a saying that expectations lead to disappointment.”

“Yea?”

“What if,” she continued, “I become that disappointment?” Pulling herself up and away from him she glanced at him in the eyes. “Do you think I can do it?”

Shifting as well to better face her, he asked, “Why? You’re not a disappointment, Namjoo.”

“Then,” she felt herself getting roiled up, “would you care if I got married to someone else?”

Another intense moment of silence washed over them. In the exact same way she’d gasped earlier, he questioned with shock, “What?”

It wasn’t ok, would never be ok but she still wanted to believe in him. And it made her all the more angry because she knew they would never exist.

Unable to control herself she lashed out at him with the bitter emotions she couldn’t express at her parent’s home. “Then you should have done better! Why is your father so lousy?! You should have gone to school! Why are you like this instead?! It’s not fair!”

She shoved him back and rammed him with her fists, crying out the suppressed anger boiling inside her. She would lose because her hands were bound and she was already guilty. The heavy burdens her parents placed on her and the frustration that she was both afraid and uncertain about everything.

“I’m sorry,” she immediately apologized, hugging him. Her entire body throbbed with utmost fear. Suddenly she wanted to cling harder onto the person that was her dream. “I’m so sorry.”

She was a coward. Because she loved him.

“It’s ok,” he whispered, holding her in return. “It’s all right.”

And everything started rolling downhill from there.

Two days after, Luhan arrived on her doorstep panting and out of breath. It was the middle of the night. The moon glowed behind him and shadows loomed everywhere, as if to convey the mysteriousness of the dark. She became immediately out of breath when he abruptly hugged her.

Silence drew on longer. The noise of the quiet apartment ticked behind her. It taunted them. Namjoo could feel it within her heart that something was very wrong. The world would never be on their side.

Reality was cruel.

An hour later she discovered that his father had gotten into a drunk fight at the seaport, killing two of the boat men in the process. The police had been alerted and were now after him. When morning struck the entire world would know about the man who was wanted. And if they found his son they would find the father.

“He wants to return home and change his identity,” Luhan explained to her the devised plan.

“What about you?” she wondered, her voice a mere whisper. They were still standing near the closed door, having left the lights off so no one knew they were up. She wanted to protect him from the harm caused by his father, because if she lost him she would lose everything that meant the world to her. The fear was clear to her and she trembled.

Because she loved him.

“He wants me to go with him.”

“No,” she shook her head. “Don’t go.”

Luhan gazed into her eyes. The helplessness that was she reflected back in his eyes onto her. Guilt heaved upon them. The possibility of abandonment of each other, of their parents.

Desperation overwhelmed her. She croaked, “Can’t you stay with me?”  

The answer was obvious. A long moment of following silence droned over them, the air full of despair. It dawned on her so heavily, like a mountain collapsing onto a village choking the life out of the happy.

“I can’t let him go alone.”

She bit her lip to stop herself from saying anything more selfish. The heat emanating from his body grew more intense when he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her, his hand cradling the back of her head. Closing her eyes she drew in a whiff of him as she buried her face into his shoulder.

“Whatever happens, I’ll come back to look for you. I promise.”

The weight in her heart had always been heavy. Now it was even heavier. Maybe from the beginning she was clear that they were bound to be separated, so she loved him hard…too hard. That now she could hardly find the words to express her love for him.

She felt him kiss her hair, her cheek, and then finally her lips. “You’ll wait for me, won’t you?”

Another load of burden crushed her shoulders.

“Don’t cry,” he said, “I’ll come back for you.”

“I’m not,” she assured, even as her entire whole crumbled in her solid form. “I’ll wait for you.”

“I love you.”

Namjoo barely whimpered in pain and managed to nod, “I love you too.”  

Agony crushed her insides but she couldn’t cry. She didn’t want to and she was unable to. Anguish struck her as hard as a knife plunging into her heart. The pain soared in insurmountable heights, but she could not share it nor could she say it. Gripping her arms around him to etch the way his solid form felt within her hold, she stood closer. His breath touched her softly the same way his presence touched her heart just right. She had always treasured him. From the moment they sat together with arms touching while teaching him from her book and sharing their first cooked meal. The first meal, the first kiss, and the first intimate moment. All of it, every moment and every fluttering feeling flashed through her movie like a film strip.

When a person dies, she heard, they always think about their loved ones, their life, and their most important moments.

As Namjoo fought to hold back her tears and parted to kiss him, she knew death had come early. And because it was early it was taking part of her with him, because it wasn’t her time. For love there was always a price to pay.

The silence droned on with their hearts humming the last song together as morning waited outside the window.  

Hours later he awoke from beside her. The gentle movements he made so as not to wake her as he got up without his usual farewell woke her up. Namjoo kept her eyes glued shut in pretension that she was still deeply lulled in sleep. She felt the very slight motion of his body leaning over to see her for the last time. With less than a soft kiss on her cheek his weight disappeared from the bed, the warmth leaving with him. And he slid away like a ghost.

Her face contorted, ready to break out into a heart aching sob. Every second that slipped by squeezed her heart with wordless pains. Once the door closed she opened her eyes to the dark reality awaiting her.

The spot beside her that belonged to Luhan was as empty as if no one ever belonged there. There was no trace left of the lover. At first Namjoo fought back the sobs but like a raging flood they rolled out of her in forms of whimpers, harsh grieving sobs, and loud child-like cries. And it felt as if she was shedding the tears of the suffering of the entire population.  

Present time…

Luhan never returned for her. That had been her reality.

Until now…

The skyline was still in place, the clouds out, and the sun bright. Everything she’d worked hard to bury deep within her heart slowly came back to light. The nostalgic made her so sick she felt dizzy but lying down or standing didn’t feel right.

The dreary emptiness that so long accompanied her was suddenly flying around her, like a long waiting tornado. The very painful moments she had experienced so long ago were so fresh in her memory. Those moments were what she treasured most, what she remembered most. The last time she saw him, the last time they were together. So very deeply within her memory that reminiscing it all plunged another knife into her heart.

But she was mother and grandmother. She had lived as her parents’ possession. Could it really be over?

Namjoo turned and stood when the door opened and Sungjae walked in. Together with this man she had aged, had thrown tantrums, shamelessly cried and begged to be freed. However bad she had been, however cruel she treated him he kept by her side. And she had lived together with him…till now.

In old age his hair was as gray as hers, his skin as lined up and creased from hard work to support her and his family. He was a good man.

“Sungjae…”

“It’s ok,” he gestured toward her, “you don’t have to get up.”

Unable to hide her guilt she didn’t move. Pulling on a faint smile she told, “Sunwoo came by.”

With a nod, “I heard.”

Namjoo was tempted to act as if it was all right, that he didn’t know anything; that he was oblivious as a fool. She couldn’t. Having lived with the honest man for so long she’d learned how to read him.

And he knew.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized, remorseful that even 56 years later her heart still pounded severely at the mention of a love she never forgot. That she had never been able to return her husband’s love.

Raising his hand he her head affectionately. Glancing her in the eyes gently he nodded with a smile, “It’s been hard on you.”

Unable to say anything she felt the soft breeze travel in from through the window. And she felt it in her heart, the anguish and gratefulness. Her heart was bending, twisting, and melting. Tears welled up in her eyes.

“You can go now.”

The very next day her eyes remained glued to the scenery of towers outside the car window. She was wearing her favorite aqua dress, a present for her 80^th birthday she dearly adored. Even as an old grandma she realized she cared about her appearance as much as she had in her youth.

That morning she’d gotten up early full of anxiety and anticipation, had sat in front of her vanity desk and very gracefully touched up her face to hide all flaws possible.

“You’re very beautiful today, Grandma,” Sunwoo complimented when he picked her up that morning. “You look as if you’re going on your very first date.”

And she was nervous. For the very first time after 56 years they were seeing each other again. Many things had changed. No one remained the same. It was a reality she wouldn’t deny, but Namjoo had lived so long just for this day, the one possibility she was never sure that would come.

“We’re here, Grandma,” her grandson stopped the car.

Namjoo’s throat was dry and her palms sweaty. She gripped onto her clutch and firmly pressed her lips together.

“Are you ok back there?” he twisted around in from the front seat to look back.

“Y…yes…” she croaked. God, she was nearly trembling. Suddenly at once she was filled with self-doubt. Was this really all right? Coming here…leaving her family behind? Could she really do this now that her parents were no longer around?

“Grandma,” Sunwoo called and when she glanced up at him saw him shoot her an encouraging smile, “it’s ok. Go out there, be happy, and have fun.”

His eyes shone with support and happiness for her, and suddenly in that moment Namjoo understood that it was ok. She had lived eighty years, she had fulfilled her duties. It wasn’t like her children and grandchildren never had love lives themselves. They were all adults. They loved her and would want for her what she would want for them.

“I will,” she managed a smile and at last stepped out.

Winter was gone. The earth now transpired with warmth; spring – the season of love and blossoming lives. As she entered the flower park she could hear Sunwoo’s car driving off, the engine roaring into the distance behind her. The rest was up to her now that everyone had given her way to the happiness she long deserved.

Her heart tripped and rolled insanely behind the cage of her ribs. Excitement flowed through her. Every footstep would bring her to the treasure that once belonged to her.

There, finally, in front of the water fountain. Dressed in a casual outfit with back to her. A handsome man. Slowing down in pace Namjoo pressed her lips together as her mentality readied for what was to come.

She had waited, she had waited…

And she entirely stopped when he spun around, sensing her presence as she could hear him shouting her name through the silence. Young Luhan, her love, her cherished person who had been tucked behind the folds of her heart in secrecy for so long. Inside her mind she imagined the young boy who would call for her from across the street with a fresh bag of groceries, waving and announcing he would make her dinner. And she could see in front of her the young man she loved so passionately in her youth.

Her lips shook, her entire whole trembled gravely and she wept. All the hard times she lived through suddenly seemed so meaningless compared to this moment. No matter how much time had passed, only now mattered. She was revived, like the earth.

The shine in his eyes and the tears lubricated there solely reflected her own. At the same time they stepped toward each other slowly, gazes locked, as if recording the essence of the moment into memory, then quickly and faster until they were in each other’s arms. And as always when she hugged him, buried her face into his shoulder. The love, the affection, the warmth, and comfort she always needed flowed into her. Luhan was still her person. For a minute she cried, her chest heaving severely with hands running over him to assure herself this was no dream. Because she loved him and they were finally back together, and everyone knew and it was all right. It was ok at last.

For once she wasn’t crying because it hurt. She was happy, finally happy from the very depths of her soul.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized. “I made you wait long.”

Time was finally theirs now.

***Ok, I'm sorry. It ain't perfect, but APink's teaser came out and I can't live right now. I'm getting sidetracked so bad.