The sand was chilly on my feet as I stepped onto it that August night. With the music still audible from the patio, I hooked the straps of my heels onto my thumb, then slid my phone into the pocket of my dress. Ahead, the beach was flat and dark, dotted with the lights from hotels, and father along, houses. Thinking I'd only go a little way before I turned around, I started walking.

If he hadn't been wearing that white shirt, bright almost to the point of glowing, I might not have seen him. But he was. The boy who had asked me to dance, standing by the water's edge. I couldn't miss him. No, more than that. I can never picture him in anything else.

The real surprise was that he saw me. When you come across someone in the beach at night, thinking at the ocean, you don't exactly interrupt. It's one of those unwritten rules. So I'd just walked behind him, keeping my head down, when I heard him say, "All done for the night?"

It's funny, the little details you remember from the things you cannot forget. The sand cool on my feet. The weight of my shoes, shifting as they swung in my hand. And again, that shirt bright in contrast to own black dress, so dark I wondered later how he'd even seen me at all.

"Yeah," I replied back. "I got off early, for once."

"Is it early?" He looked back at the party still going on, shadows of figures visible moving around. "It feels late to me."

I wasn't sure what to say after, and felt like maybe I should keep moving, give him the space he needed. But he was the one who started talking.

"Weddings take a lot out of you," I said. "Or so I heard."

"You hear? You should know, since you know, you go to a lot?"

"I work a lot," I corrected him. "It's different from being a guest. You're at a distance, an observer."

"Huh," he said. He had a bit of an accent, but not too noticeable. "I never thought of it that way. Then again, I'm a cashier at an cafe."

"That's not emotional?"

"Maybe for the coffee beans."

I laughed. "I never thought of it that way."

"Oh, the world of taking orders is fascinating. Except that it's totally not."

We stood there for a second, both of us watching the waves. Out on the horizon, I could see a fishing boat, its light shining.

From behind us, there was a loud whoop, followed by cheering, and we both turned to look. In profile, I saw he had long lashes, a sharp jawline. "You're family's having fun," I said.

"My dad's family," he corrected me. O-kay, I thought. He gave me an apologetic smile. "Sorry. It's just . . . complicated."

"Family usually is," I said.

"Is yours?"

I considered this for a moment. "Not really."

He laughed. "Oh, I get it. You are still on the clock. Looking for AWOL guests, just part of the job."

"No, no," I protested, holding up my hand. "I just mean . . . my family is only me and my mom. Well, and  Wooyoung. Not really complicated."

"Wooyoung?"

"Her best friend, my godfather-basically-my-father-except-he's-not," I explained, using the term when I was in grade school during Meet My Family week. "My real dad died when I was little."

"Wow. Sorry."

I shrugged. "I didn't really know him, at least that I remember. So it's not like I miss him or anything."

He slid his hands into his pockets, leaning back. "My dad and I used to be close. I was his little buddy, all that. Then, three years ago, he ditched my mom for his secretary. Such a stereotype. He couldn't even be original about cheating."

His voice showed disgust. Now I said, "I'm sorry."

A shrug. "Not your fault. And yet you manage to apologize anyway. He never has. Weird how that works, huh?"

"Definitely," I said. "How's your mom doing?"

"She's fine," he answered. "Remarried, too, by this point. She's over it."

"And you?"

Silence. Then, "Not quite there yet. Even though I did agree to go to his wedding and be a groomsman. It was supposed to be this big re-bonding experience."

I dug my toe into the wet sand, wiggling it until it disappeared. "And how's that going?"

"I'm out here, alone, in the dark. Or at least I was until you came along," he said. "You tell me."

"Jongsuk!"

The voice was behind us, coming from the patio of the hotel. When I turned, I saw a woman in a green dress, her hair in an updo, looking down at us. The boy beside me said, "Yeah?"

"You're missing everything!" she called. "Joongki and Hye-kyo will be leaving soon!"

"Okay," he replied. "Just a second."

She nodded and turned, fixing her hair, then started walking back to the party, her figure vanishing. Jongsuk turned back to the water, a tired look on his face. "My aunt Jisoo. Who has kind of taken my estrangement from my dad."

"Family is complicated," I said.

"Exactly. Unless you're . . ." He raised his brow at me. "What's your name?"

"Suzy," I said.

He smiled, looking impressed. "Nice."

I looked back at the stairs, where Aunt Jisoo was now a green blur in the distance. "Too bad you have to go back."

"Yeah." He glanced over as well. "Too bad."

We stood there for a moment, facing each other. His shirt-tails, now untuck, were ruffling in the wind. I'd never had this feeling before, that something big was about to happen, and there was nothing I had to do but wait for it. A beat. Then another. Finally, Jongsuk stepped back from me, away from the brightness of the hotel and into the dimness of the beach beyond. The wind blew my hair, the straps of my shoes twisting around each other as he smiled at me, then gestured me to join him.

I didn't even hesitate. So much of life is not being sure of anything. How I wished, later, I'd been able to savor them, those few steps and moments when for once, I just knew.