3 Years Later

A young woman held a little girl in her arms as she sorted out ingredients and scents. Chubby hands attempted to reach the mint beads, causing the former to hold the little hands, keeping them from spilling valuable ingredients.

“Now, Hee-Jinah, you might waste aloe vera again,” cooed the woman, “You don’t want that, right?”

The 2-year old’s eyes lit up as she giggled and clapped her hands. The woman couldn’t help but smile as the little girl stared at her – those chubby cheeks were so irresistible, she was close to pinching them again.

“M...mm...mmm,” cooed the child.

“What’s that Hee-Jin?”

The 2-year old gazed at the young woman, her flower bud lips opening and closing.

“Mm...mma.”

“What?”

Finally, the little girl squeaked.

“Ma...ma,” she cooed, “Mama...mama!”

The young woman’s eyes rounded in surprise at the child’s first words. She could barely contain her excitement; she ended up knocking over a bowl honey.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, torn between the mess of honey and the child she held in her arms. The little girl, however, seemed to enjoy the dilemma, clapping her hands again, repeatedly saying the words, “Mama.”

“Oh my god, Hee Jinah,” cooed the young woman, hugging the child close to her, “You said your first words. Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“Mama,” said the little girl again, “Mama!” then she giggled.

“What’s going on?”

A young man entered the scene, holding a tray with samples of soap in three different colors. The young woman smiled at him, holding the child up.

“She said her first words!” she announced. The man immediately set the tray on the table, his eyes as wide as saucers.

“Is it true, Ha-Jinah? What did she say?”

“Mama!” answered the child, raising her chubby fists.

“Omo, omo!” exclaimed the man, taking the child out of Ha-Jin’s hands, “Oh, my little girl finally spoke! Finally!”

“She said ‘Mama’ though, not ‘Papa,’ Gong-Chan,” replied Ha-Jin with a sly smile on her face, “And you’re still happy?”

The man named Gong-Chan cuddled his little girl before responding.

“Of course, she’ll learn to say ‘Papa’ soon enough anyway,” he replied, “Don’t try to dissuade me from being proud of my daughter.”

Ha-Jin laughed as she gathered the soap samples. She took one and smelled, closing her eyes to get a better grasp of the scent. She smiled at the scent of roses, but figured it lacked more honey and essence.

“Ah, I bet Yoo-Rin will be pleased,” said Gong-Chan, wiping drool from his daughter’s lips as she mumbled her first word, “Please don’t tell her though. I want her to hear it for herself.”

“You want me to lie to your wife?” asked Ha-Jin, setting down the bars of soap.

“You’ll reap benefits from this too, Ha-Jinah,” remarked Gong-Chan, “Your cousin will never let you hear the end of it when she finds out her daughter called someone else ‘Mother.’”

Ha-Jin frowned.

“You’re right. She might stop helping out,” she said, “Okay, fine. I won’t tell Yoo-Rinah about Hee-Jin. Let’s pretend Hee-Jin said nothing today.”

“Agreed,” said Gong-Chan, “By the way, those are the new samples that came in today,” he indicated to the bars of soap, “The supplier wants you to check them out and see if they’re ready for sale. A number of the women here are getting too antsy already.”

“Ah, alright,” said Ha-Jin, “Go home to your wife now. Yoo-Rin needs the extra hands; it’s hard being pregnant with your second child.”

“I know, I know, that’s why we’re leaving,” said Gong-Chan, grabbing the baby bag near the door and slinging it on his shoulders, “I need to pick Yoo-Rin up from the doctor in 15 minutes anyway. She wanted me to drop these by because we didn’t want your customers to get mad.”

“No, I understand,” she said, approaching both father and daughter, “Goodbye Hee-Jinah, Auntie loves you so much. Visit again soon, okay?” She kissed the child on the cheeks and laughed as her niece kissed her back.

“Thanks for all your help, Gong-Chan,” she told her cousin’s husband, “I’ll drop by whenever I can for Yoo-Rin.”

“No problem, Ha-Jinah. Take your time. Yoo-Rin understands that you’re busy – with the Christmas season, coming,” remarked Gong-Chan, “Your shop would definitely be in-demand.”

“Thanks Gong-Chan,” said Ha-Jin, patting him on the back, “I’ll see you guys on Saturday.”

Ha-Jin smiled as her cousin-in-law raised her niece’s hand for a goodbye. She waved back as both father and daughter made their way out of her tiny shop. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched Gong-Chan plant a kiss on his daughter’s cheek as he fastened her in the baby-seat.

Five minutes later, they sped off.

Ha-Jin watched as their car disappeared from her view. As she was about to leave the window, she noticed something.

It started to snow.

She opened the window and perched on the window sill, extending her hand to catch the flakes one by one. The flush of cold wind kissed her cheeks, bringing out their natural pink color. She took a deep breath, inhaling the cold air.

Whenever it snowed, Ha-Jin had something to do.

--

She brushed snow off the smooth’s stone surface before she stacked it on top. She took another one from the ground. One by one, she placed one stone after the other, brushing off any excess snow.

It had become her ritual during her stay in Namwon. Whenever it snowed, she made it a point to visit the nearest lake and stack her stones. For each stone, she uttered a prayer.

It had been three years since she moved to Namwon. Ha-Jin wasn’t usually the impulsive decision maker, but when she decided to leave Seoul for the Namwon, she wasn’t sure what her next step was. All she knew was that she had to leave and life will follow soon.

The first days were rough. She was fortunate enough to have a cousin in Namwon, but she didn’t have a job and she was nursing a broken heart. But as the days turned into weeks, she slowly got back on her feet.

Her mother was against the idea at first, but Ha-Jin insisted that she needed this break, despite the uncertainty of it all.

She realized that her talents would make a good business in the community. Ha-Jin started small but with the help of her cousin, she built a small cosmetics shop in Namwon. Eventually, the women started trusting her taste in blushes, eyeliners, and soaps.

It wasn’t a big booming business, but it managed to do well on its own.

She laid a stone for thanksgiving; she had another good year.

Children giggled nearby. Ha-Jin turned around and saw two girls running around, their mother helplessly lagging behind, telling her children not to get too close to the river. She didn’t want them drowning in frozen water.

Ha-Jin hid a smile. She knew the feeling.

There were days when she missed her life in Seoul. She missed the excitement of the city, the thrill of living in the heart of everything. She missed her apartment, which she shared with her lovable roommate. The last news she heard about Chae-Rin was that she finally got a boyfriend who is now Ha-Jin’s replacement in the apartment.

Apart from Chae-Rin, there were others whom she missed dearly.

Luna and Si Eun were probably still gossiping about the latest with celebrities and makeup. She missed hanging out with them, talking about boys and the latest swatches. Luna often e-mailed her; one of her letters told about Si Eun’s promotion. Ha-Jin couldn’t be prouder for her friend.

The sight of coffee often brought back good memories of Ji-Woo and Ki-Joo – her favourite baristas. The coffee wasn’t the same here in Namwon; she wondered if those two had a magic touch or she just missed them dearly.

A local art museum housed several masterpieces from Korean artists. Ha-Jin wondered if Baek Min-Suk was one of them. His child with Yoo-Hee must be at least four years old by now. She would fondly recall the husband and wife tandem every now and then.

Just yesterday, she read the book Tae-Won once recommended her. He was right when he said it was a good read whenever you felt alone.

For each brother, she laid down a stone, sending them prayers for good health. She hoped they were doing well wherever they were.

As she placed the last stone for Tae-Won, the last brother came to her mind.

It had been three years since she last saw him.

Once she settled in Namwon, Ha-Jin vowed that she would not hear any news about him. Fortunately, their community was not a big fan of the media or news; ditching newspapers, televisions, and even the Internet was pretty easy for her.

It was hard but necessary; any piece of information – small or large – was enough to trigger her. If she wasn’t careful, she didn’t know what she’d do.

Ha-Jin paused for a moment and stared at the river for a while. It was a bit frozen due to the cold weather, but it looked so beautiful against the lights. She wondered if anyone would dare ride a boat in this weather.

She did once. And she wasn’t alone.

She spent her first nights in Namwon crying herself to sleep. It was such a regular thing that when the tears didn’t flow, she’d know there was something missing in her daily routine. The memory of his face was enough to her back on schedule.

As the months progressed, she cried less. When months turned to years, she cried rarely.

It was a joy to finally stop the tears, but when they came, they came in buckets.

“Without my permission, you cannot leave me. You cannot die either.”

Ha-Jin laid the last stone on top. She prayed for forgiveness, because she broke her promise again in this lifetime.

She tried her best to forget about him, but she knew it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. In fact, it might never happen. Sometimes, she would ask herself the same question she had hundreds of years ago –

So why is it that I can’t let you go and ignore you?

The years brought upon countless changes – her hair, her friends, her business, and her habits. But one thing remained constant:

She still loved him.

--

“...a young woman like you, shouldn’t you have a boyfriend by now?”

Ha-Jin smiled as she placed another box of blushers inside her customer’s shopping bag.

“Ah Sang-Hyuk-nim, I don’t need to have one right now,” she told him, placing the last blusher, “I’m too busy.”

The senior smiled gaily at her. “You’re right,” he agreed, looking around her small shop, “You’re too busy supplying our women with cosmetics that make them prettier. I swear, my wife would not go out of our cafe unless she wears one of whatever you call these.” He held up a lip tint in a pleasant shade of red.

“Well, your business is doing more than fine, Sang-Hyuk-nim. I heard you got a sponsor.”

“Yes, some investor who gives chances to little fellas like us,” answered the neighbour, “Believe me, my wife was more than happy when she heard the news. Now, we get to serve 4-star coffee instead of 2.”

He handed Ha-Jin his payment.

“You should consider that – having a sponsor,” suggested the man named Sang-Hyuk, “It does wonders.”

Ha-Jin looked at him thoughtfully. “Maybe, but for now, my job is to bring amazing makeup to your wife,” she said, handing him the bag, “And make all the women happy.”

“You do an amazing job already,” praised her neighbour, “Well, I have to get going. The wife would be happy to see this.”

He smiled at her again and went his way, closing the shop’s door behind him. Ha-Jin couldn’t help but feel fondness at one of her regular customers. Apart from always buying her products, he unintentionally served as a good memory of those she left behind.

It was always good to see the incarnate of Crown Prince Mu every now and then.

Ha-Jin re-organized her table and took the makeup he did not purchase. One by one, she placed the eyeliners and blushers on their respective shelves. She’d be closing in an hour so she figured it was best to start cleaning.

Before she could go to the pantry for the broom, she spotted some items on the front desk. Apparently, Sang-Hyuk nim forgot some papers.

“Aisht, he always does this,” she said.

She took the paper and folded it for recycling when the big bold words caught her attention.

YOUNGEST HWANG CORPORATION CEO TO BE WED TO —

And she stopped reading.

It only took eight words to make her heart beat faster than its original pace. Immediately, she folded the newspaper and threw it in the trash, her hear still wildly pounding against her chest. Ha-Jin could feel that pain she worked so hard to bury.

When she left, he was to be married; after that, she never heard any news. Did the entire planning take three years? Did something happen?

The questions began and she didn’t like it.

She suddenly had a difficult time breathing. Her hands automatically touched that sore spot in her chest.

The shop bell rang.

“Oh dear cousin, we’re here!” came Yoo-Rin’s voice. Ha-Jin saw her cousin enter the shop, baby in tow, and her husband beside her. The look on their faces, however, reflected the ordeal Ha-Jin was suddenly going through.

“Ha-Jinah, are you okay?” asked Gong-Chan, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

For a moment, she was speechless. The family of three stared at her, their voices trying to reach her, but she remained stoic at those five words.

“Ha-Jinah?”

She had to get out of there.

“Yoo-Rinah, can you watch the store for me?” she asked, immediately grabbing her coat and scarf, “There...something urgent came. Close the shop if I don’t get back in an hour.” She gave her cousin the key before running out of the shop, unable to hear their questions or her niece crying all of a sudden.

All Ha-Jin knew was that she had to get out.

--

It had been three years, but the pain feels just like yesterday.

This was one of the many reasons why she stayed away from television, newspapers, and the Internet.

The snow wasn’t as much that night, but it was still very cold. Her layers were not enough; however, she didn’t have enough time to think about her attire when she got out. She just had to get out and breathe. Fortunately, the nearest lakeside was deserted.

She could cry without anyone noticing.

Ha-Jin tried her best not to be overwhelmed with what she just read. She knew it was going to happen anyway – sooner or later. But it was only recently when she realized there was a big difference between accepting and knowing.

She knew, but she still couldn’t accept.

He was and will always be the love of her life.

Through her tears, she watched as the snow descended from the skies, making blankets of white on the ground. The stones she stacked the other day were still there, covered in fresh and cold snow. Ha-Jin knew she had to distract herself; otherwise, she might faint.

She picked up the nearest stone with her shaking hands.

Even when she didn’t visit the lake to pray, she kept him in his prayers every night. There wasn’t a moment when she didn’t wonder about him – was he doing okay? Did he finally remember all of his memories? Was he eating well? Could he finally sleep better at night? Every second, he was always on her mind.

Her dreams often had him as the main character. It didn’t matter if it was the past or present version of him; he was always there – holding her hand, enclosing her in an embrace, or simply tucking a stray lock of hair.

His memories never stopped too.

“You...are my person now.”

“I don’t think you understand how drawn I am to you.”

“Soo-ya.”

“Ha-Jinah.”

“I love you.”

She gazed at the ring she still wore on her finger.

There were times when she was tempted to take it off and just hide it somewhere, just to keep the memories at bay. However, it felt so wrong to hide someone’s promise. It was also the last thing she had of him.

She might have let him go, but she wasn’t willing to give this one up.

The snow continued to fall gently on her; there was something about it that encouraged her to utter a prayer with the stone she held in her hands. For a minute, she came up blank, but eventually she sorted herself.

“To the gods above,” she began, “Please let him live a long and happy life.”

Her fingers trembled.

“And if possible, please...please...help me let him go.”

A tear rolled down her cheek.

“Please help me let him go.”

Without another word, she placed the stone on top of her present stack, fervently hoping the gods could hear her small voice.

The winds were getting harsher by the second; she could already feel the frost bite and her cheeks warming up to compensate. She had spent enough time outside already; it was time to go back and face a new night.

Be strong, Ha-Jinah.

As she made her way back, threading carefully down the slippery path, she noticed a tall figure walking down her way. It was too dark and a solitary light stood in the middle. She figured it was another visitor of the lake. Ha-Jin wondered if she should tell them that the weather conditions were no longer favourable.

Once she reached the middle, near the light, however, she stopped.

And so did he.

He wore a thick dark coat, gloved hands shoved inside the pockets. His hair styled differently – a definite hairline showing and hair stuck up neatly. His eyes widened behind those framed glasses, which fogged due to the snow.

She, on the other hand, wondered if this was a hallucination. She’s had one too many of them.

But the feeling was the same when she first saw him again – in the middle of an art exhibit. That time, however, his eyes showed no signs of recognition.

Now, he stared intently at her.

There was a stunned silence.

Finally, he spoke.

“I found you.”

A/N: One down, two to go. See you soon.