TWO

“Maybe he’s married,” Jihyun speculated, her voice hushed.

I gave her a blank look. “No ring.”

“He could have taken it off,” Jihyun countered. “Or maybe he has a girlfriend.”

“He said he was single and not looking to date.”

“Gay?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “His friend tried to set him up with me, Jihyun. And trust me, from how he kissed me that night, definitely straight.”

“Maybe he has performance issues,” Jihyun said gravely. “I heard that after 30, the risk of having some kind of ual dysfunction goes up exponentially.”

“Or, he’s a perfectly normal guy who’s just not interested in me,” I suggested. “How’s that for a radical idea?”

“Well, it just doesn’t make sense,” Jihyun huffed.

“You know what doesn’t make sense?” I pointed out. “You bailing on me even though you said you wouldn’t. This is all your fault.”

“Someone called in sick, okay?” she defended. “I couldn’t just walk out.” She looked across the café at Jinyoung. “Besides, it’s not my fault that you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. What I want to know is: how he does he go from jumping your bones to, you know… this?”

I did know what she was referring to, unfortunately. Today was the first day Jinyoung and I had crossed paths after that night, and it had been unbelievably… friendly. Jihyun and I were already at our usual table, and when he’d come in, he’d come over to say hi, and then headed off to his usual table and started reading. There wasn’t even a hint of awkwardness in his behavior, or any indication that anything out of the ordinary had happened. He’d just been a regular polite acquaintance, saying hi and then going off on his way. It felt like I was the only one who felt that the whole situation was weird.

“I’m sure something is wrong with him,” Jihyun decided. “I mean, look at him! He’s handsome and educated and seems like the perfect gentleman. There’s no reason for a man like that to be single if he’s normal.”

“Jihyun, just drop it,” I sighed. “Whatever’s up with him, I don’t need to know, alright? I said I wasn’t interested in dating, and I really don’t need all this drama. Whatever happened, happened, and I’m just going to move on.”

I glanced across the café at Jinyoung’s side profile. It was a pity he was so confusing, because for a while, I’d genuinely enjoyed his company. That night at the gallery, I’d really felt like he understood me. Shaking my head, I turned away. It didn’t matter how perfect he was. If he was going to be such an indecisive wuss, he didn’t deserve my time or energy.

“Class, shall we say a big thank you to Ryeowon-ssaem for the lesson today?”

“THANK YOU, RYEOWON-SSAEM!”

“Thank you for being such great students!” I said, bowing to the class of eight-year-olds. “I hope you enjoyed your time today.”

As the bunch of excited elementary schoolers started packing their bags and running out of the classroom, I turned to their teacher, Ms. Park, deflating. “I don’t know how you do this every single day. It’s exhausting!”

“It’s tough, but it has its perks,” Ms. Park said with a laugh. “Thank you so much for offering to do this. The kids really loved you.”

“Or, they loved having time off from lessons to just mess around with paint,” I replied, embarrassed. To be honest, I just volunteered because my agent thought it would be great for publicity, and he’d spent the most part of the day snapping photos to post on my profile page. I definitely had fun hanging out with the kids all day, but I wasn’t altruistic by any means.

“Perhaps,” Ms. Park joked. “Either ways, thank you so much. Come, I’ll see you out.”

I followed her lead out of the classroom and down the hallway, to the entrance of the school. With her, the small talk wasn’t so bad. She asked about my latest project, and I told her it wasn’t quite coming together yet, but there were a few pieces I’d created here and there. She suggested that I come back because I could gain inspiration from the kids, and I politely agreed, but thankfully, before she could hold me to it, she paused in front of one of the students, who was sitting alone in front of the driveway.

“Jeha, you’re still here?”

The boy jumped up to bow to us. “My appa says he’ll be a little late.” He smiled at me, his large round eyes twinkling. “I really enjoyed your class today, Ryeowon-ssaem. Will you be coming back again?”

“Maybe sometime in the future,” I said vaguely.

“Jeha wants to be an artist when he grows up,” Ms. Park told me, beaming proudly.

“Do you?” I asked, suddenly feeling endeared to him. “Maybe the next time I display my work, I’ll invite you.” Although, I didn’t even enjoy my own showcases and there was probably too much alcohol around.

The boy looked absolutely delighted. “Do you have your own studio where you get to just spend all your time painting?”

“Oh, Jeha, looks like your appa’s here.”

Before I could answer, a black sedan pulled up to the driveway. Even before he stepped out of the car, I caught a glimpse of the driver and I felt my stomach drop to the floor. I looked at Jeha again, and came to the shocking realization that there was indeed an uncanny resemblance I hadn’t noticed before.

Park Jinyoung was his father.

He had a son. Jinyoung had a son.

The shock and confusion I felt must have been obvious, because Jinyoung looked clearly uncomfortable as he approached us. He avoided my eyes as he greeted Ms. Park first, and took Jeha’s backpack. Then, his eyes slowly meet mine and he bowed his head meekly.

“Oh, you know each other?” Ms. Park asked obliviously.

“I’m a regular at his friend’s café,” I said as means of explanation, not even looking at her. This whole time, I was just staring at Jinyoung, confused. I couldn’t quite wrap my head around the fact that he was this kid’s father. The boy was eight. Wasn’t Jinyoung a little too young to be his father? Was this why he was being all weird? Was Jihyun right? Was he married?

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice small.

“Ryeowon-ssaem came to teach us art,” Jeha piped up. “We used watercolors today.”

“Oh, did you?” Jinyoung cooed at his son. His eyes flickered up to me for a moment. “Did you have fun?”

“Yes!” Jeha declared. “Can we go and see her work next time? Ryeowon-ssaem has a studio!”

“Yeah, sure,” he said patronizingly. He looked back at me again. “Um, do you need a lift?”

“No, thank you,” I said calmly and coldly. He wasn’t the only one who could behave like a stranger. “I’m calling a cab. Have a good day.” I waved at Jeha, smiling. “Bye, Jeha!”

“Can I sit?”

I lifted my eyes from my sketchbook briefly. “Sure, Jeha’s appa.”

Jinyoung sat, his brows knitted in consternation. “Why are you calling me that?”

“Isn’t it true?” I asked.

“Are you mad?”

I sighed, setting my book aside. “That you have a son? No. That you failed to mention it before you kissed me and then acted like nothing happened? Yes, a little.”

Jinyoung in a deep breath, looking defeated. “What was I supposed to do? Open a conversation with ‘by the way, I’m a father of an eight-year-old’?”

“It’s not something to hide or be ashamed of,” I said blankly. “Is it?”

“God, no,” Jinyoung answered quickly. “I couldn’t be prouder of Jeha. It’s just… something that scares people away.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why would it? You said we were just friends. Until you ambushed me, at least.”

The corner of Jinyoung’s lips twitched. “You were equal parts to blame, Ryeowon. You kissed me back just as eagerly.”

“You confused me,” I said defensively. “In fact, you’re still confusing me right now.”

“I think I confuse myself too,” Jinyoung admitted. “I just… I know I said I didn’t want to date, but I think I’m just scared of being rejected. I mean, it’s not something easy for women to accept, and I think… I wanted you to like me.”

“I do,” I said, before correcting myself. “I mean, I did. I… I don’t know, right now.”

“I do,” Jinyoung said firmly. “I really do like you. I’m sorry I handled things really badly, and I understand if you think I’m a jerk. It’s just the first time I’ve been interested in someone since, you know… Jeha’s mom.”

“The call you got the other night?” I asked.

“Babysitter,” Jinyoung clarified. “The ahjumma next door takes care of Jeha when I’m out, and I was supposed to pick him up earlier, before I got um… distracted. Jeha’s mom isn’t around anymore.”

“Can I ask… what happened?” I asked tentatively. “You don’t have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable. I’m just… curious.”

Jinyoung looked down at the table, playing with his fingers absently. “She died in an accident. Four years ago.” He forced a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It took a while to come to terms with it. In fact, I just managed to stop wearing my ring this year. It got tiring to hear people asking where Jeha’s mom was.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, forgetting momentarily that I was supposed to be mad at him. “It must be tough, raising a kid alone.”

Jinyoung shrugged. “I guess. But he’s mine, you know? I’m prepared to take care of him on my own. I don’t want to be one of those single dads who’s looking for a mother for my child. Although, I suppose…” He gazed tentatively at me. “We come in a package, and whoever I date has to be able to live with that.”

“I see.” He was still looking expectantly at me, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. It had come as a shock to me that he was a father, but who was I to judge? It wasn’t like I had to decide right now whether I was going to marry him and take care of his kid forever.

“I don’t know where this is eventually going to lead to,” Jinyoung said carefully, his expression sincere. “I can’t promise anything and I don’t know whether things will work out in the end. All I know is that I don’t really want to stay away from you. I want to see you, and get to know you better. And I’m really hoping you feel the same way too.”

I thought about the night at the gallery. It had felt so natural, so comfortable to hang out with him, and it was the first time in ages that I’d laughed so much. I wasn’t the type to get close to others easily, so this connection meant something to me. On top of that, he was also handsome and charming and smart. There was just something magnetic about him that I couldn’t say no to. I sighed. “And if I say that I do? Then what?”

“Then we start over and see where this leads us,” Jinyoung said, breaking out into a big smile, dimples and all. “Give me a chance to make things right. Let me take you out on a date.”

Two days later, we went on our first date.

It wasn’t anything special. We took a walk along the Han River, and ate at a cute little noodle place that he swore had the best dumplings in the world. On our second date, we went to a museum. On our third date, we went to a movie and in the darkness of the theatre, he held my hand for the first time.

Compared to the short-lived whirlwind romances I usually found myself in, Jinyoung and I were really taking things slow. He was the perfect gentleman. He planned our dates in advance, brought me little things to surprise me (cookies, a book he liked, a flower he plucked from a bush we passed) and was extremely considerate. He was always apologetic about the fact that our dates were short, because he had to juggle work and taking care of his son, but none of that mattered to me. Despite the slow pace, within a few weeks, I was falling harder and faster than I ever had before.

It was exhilarating, but in equal parts terrifying.

“Are you absolutely sure about this?” Jihyun questioned, her expression betraying her skepticism. “I mean, he’s a widower, and he’s over thirty, and he’s got a son! A son! Surely there are better men you can date.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, stirring my coffee. “You were the one trying to push me to him. What happened to him being smart and handsome and having a job?”

“That was before I knew that he had a full-grown child!” Jihyun pointed out, her eyes automatically shifting towards the corner that Jinyoung usually sat in. He wasn’t here today, but even she’d come to do that by habit. “Have you considered that? Are you ready to into motherhood?”

“I’m not going to be Jeha’s mother,” I said, glancing at Jaebum to make sure he was still behind the counter, lest he heard Jihyun talking about his friend. “I’m just going to be this really cool aunt that his father happens to be dating. Jinyoung doesn’t expect me to take care of his kid for him.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Jihyun said, her tone snarky. “I’m sure he’s going to lead two separate lives, one with you and one with his son. That’s totally going to work out.”

I folded my arms, exasperated. “Then what, Jihyun? Am I supposed to just dump him because he has a son? He’s the first person I’ve ever dated that really understands me. All those other guys I’ve been with, they just liked the idea of me: that I was someone who went against the grain and was a rebel, or at the very least, looked like I would be up for anything in bed. Not Jinyoung. When he looks at me, I feel like he actually sees me.”

Jihyun softened. “It sounds like he’s really special to you.”

“He is,” I answered in a small voice. “I really like him. I’m happy, when I’m with him.”

“And I’m happy for you,” Jihyun said. “I’m just worried about how things are going to pan out. It’s not going to be easy, you know?”

I chewed on my lip. “I know that. But… it’s worth a shot, right? I mean, I’m really just enjoying the ride right now. I know things might get tough, but we’ll cross that bridge when it comes… right?”

“Oh, honey,” Jihyun sighed. “I really hope you guys know what you’re doing.”

“I want you to meet Jeha,” Jinyoung said one day, without any warning.

I looked up at him, surprised. It was a random afternoon, and we were snuggled up in my living room, both of us reading our books. It was becoming more common, us being alone together. We were both so used to being alone that we had our little habits and our pockets of me-time, but we were also in that fuzzy honeymoon phase of our relationship in which we wanted to spend all our time together. Hence, this was the result: quiet afternoon dates with each other for company while we did our work or just read.

“I’ve met him,” I said, quietly averting my eyes, even though I knew what he meant.

“I mean officially,” Jinyoung said, putting down his book. “I want him to know that we’re dating. That you’re my girlfriend.”

I continued staring at my book, even though none of the words were making sense anymore. “Would an eight-year-old even know what that means?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Jinyoung admitted. “But I want him to know anyway. He’s going to see you around a lot, and I want him to know why. You both mean a lot to me, and I don’t want it to seem as if I’m hiding you from him.” I said nothing, but he seemed to sense my apprehension. He pulled me closer, kissing the top of my head. “What’s wrong?”

I twisted so I could look up at him. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

Jinyoung smiled. “What do you mean? You’re already his idol.”

“Yeah, but that’s before I was his dad’s new girlfriend,” I pointed out. “Us being together changes things.”

“It does,” Jinyoung agreed. “But that’s not necessarily a bad thing, is it?”

“How do you know?” I complained. “He could hate the idea of his dad being with someone. He could think I’m trying to steal you.”

Jinyoung wrapped his arms around me tightly. “I wish I could give you a definite answer, but I really don’t know how he’s going to react. This is the first time I’ve tried to date after his mother passed.” It was a horrifyingly unsatisfactory answer. I tried to squirm out of his grip, but he wouldn’t let go. “But he’s a good kid. He’s independent, and mature; he knows I’m having a hard time, and so he takes care of himself well. I’m sure that he’ll want me to be happy.”

I gave up my feeble struggle. “Are you? Happy?”

“I am.” He relaxed his grip, putting enough space between us so that he could drop a light kiss on the tip of my nose. “I haven’t been this happy in a long time. Every day, I wake up feeling so lucky that I found you.”

“You’re just saying that,” I accused, although I couldn’t help but blush.

“I’m not,” Jinyoung refuted, chuckling. “You make me so happy, my heart feels like it might burst.”

I leaned up to give him a kiss on the lips before snuggling into his embrace. That, I could relate to. Jinyoung was warmth itself. Being in his arms made me feel so comfortable that it was almost frightening. I was so ridiculously, sickeningly happy that I was sure that life was going to punch me in my face at any moment and tell me that it was one big practical joke.

“It would make me happier if I could spend time with both my favorite people,” Jinyoung said, oblivious to the way my heart was pounding in my ears. “What do you say?”

“Wow, this is awesome!”

I watched as Jeha ran around my studio, touching brushes and palettes. He stopped to marvel at a row of paint tubes. “Appa, did you even know they made paints in so many colors?”

Jinyoung was beaming as he looked at me. “Wow, I had no idea.”

“This is so cool!” Jeha gushed, pausing in front of one of my newer paintings. “You’re a really good artist, Ryeowon-ssaem.”

“Try not to touch anything,” Jinyoung warned, and seeing this fatherly side of him caused my stomach to flip-flop. For a few hours a week, I got him all to myself, but this was a reminder that he came with a plus-one, and I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about that.

“Thanks, Jeha,” I said brightly, pushing aside the unease. “You want to create something with me?”

The way Jeha’s eyes lit up made me smile. He was a really cute kid, and I could really see some of Jinyoung’s mannerisms in him. “No way. Can I really?”

“Of course,” I said. I loaded a blank canvas onto an easel and pulled up a chair for him so he could reach it easier. Then, I brought him some pencils. “You want to start by drawing something?”

I had to admit, hanging out with Jeha was pretty fun. He was a smart kid, eloquent beyond his age, and also pretty talented at art for an eight-year-old. He drew some robots from a cartoon he liked, and we had fun mixing colors with acrylic paint and painting them. I taught him how to play with shades and gradients, and he learnt quickly. Jinyoung just hung back, watching us, occasionally offering suggestions and taking pictures. Then, he left us alone to order lunch. By the time Jeha and I sat back to admire our finished masterpiece, take-out had arrived. All three of us sat down on the floor with our bowls of jjajjangmyun.

“So, Jeha, did you have fun today?” Jinyoung asked, leaning over to wipe a smudge of paint off his son’s face.

Jeha nodded eagerly. “It was the best. When I grow up, I want to have a studio just like this.”

“You can come over again,” I offered. “We can try playing with other things next time.”

Jeha looked at Jinyoung with wide eyes. “Can we?”

Jinyoung’s eyes found mine as he nodded. He held my gaze for a while, and I knew he was going to do it right then. “Of course. You’re going to see Ryeowon-ssaem a lot more often from now on. As long as she’s free and doesn’t mind, you can come hang out with her.”

Jeha must have picked up from his father’s tone that this conversation was taking a serious turn, because he looked slightly confused. “I am?”

Jinyoung nodded, looking at his son. “Jeha, you like Ryeowon-ssaem, right?”

Jeha nodded slowly. “Yes, I do.”

“Well, you see,” Jinyoung his lips. He reached out and grasped my hand in his. “Appa likes her a lot too.”

My heart was pounding so loudly I could barely hear what he was saying. I couldn’t believe that I was so desperate for the approval of an eight-year-old boy, but I was. I could only stare at his face, hoping to catch a glimpse of what he was feeling. To his credit, the boy had an amazing poker face. It was clear that he was no longer smiling like before, but his expression was blank, betraying no emotion, neither positive nor negative.

“I like her so much I asked her to be my girlfriend,” Jinyoung was explaining to Jeha. “I want to spend time with her, and I want her to be a part of my life, which means she’ll be a part of your life too.”

“Does this mean you’re going to get married?” Jeha asked.

“No,” I quickly blurted out.

Jinyoung glanced at me, furrowing his brows disapprovingly. “We don’t know,” he said gently. “Adults usually date for some time before they decide whether or not to get married, and Ryeowon-ssaem and I have only been seeing each other for a couple of months. It’s too early to say.”

“Okay.”

Seriously, the kid was way more mature than an eight-year-old was supposed to be. He seemed to be taking it in his stride, quietly processing what he’d just been told. I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath until he turned and spared me a glance. When he did, though, my stomach sank.

He didn’t like it.

His expression was still blank, and he wasn’t outwardly expressing any emotion, and I know I sound crazy, but I could just tell that his eyes had hardened. Earlier, he’d been looking at me with unbridled joy and awe, but now, his beautiful round eyes conveyed what I could only interpret as something closer to hatred.

We looked at each other for a long moment, and I felt like I should say something, but my mind was blank. He was the first to break the silence with his sweet, innocent voice.

“Can I use the washroom?”

I nodded, swallowing hard. “Sure. It’s that way.”

“Thank you.”

We were silent again as Jeha excused himself. When he was out of earshot, I turned to Jinyoung, who was looking at me expectantly. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?”

My hands shook as I started clearing our empty bowls. “Jinyoung… he doesn’t like me.”

“What? No,” Jinyoung disagreed, taking the bowls from my hands. “Where did you get that?”

I looked at him, hoping for some assurance that I wasn’t crazy. “Didn’t you see him? He was all happy and smiling, and when you told him, his mood just changed.”

“He just wasn’t expecting it,” Jinyoung assured me with a smile. “That’s just the way he processes information. He’ll need some time to mull over it, and then decide how he feels. If he were unhappy, he’d have shown it right away.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. “Why does that sound so much like someone else I know?”

“He’s just like me,” Jinyoung said with a grin. He leaned over to steal a kiss. “And if I like you so much, how can he possibly dislike you?”

That helped me feel better a little bit. We cleaned up together, and when Jeha returned, it was time for them to go. I saw them to the door, and Jeha bowed politely to me. “Thank you for today, Ryeowon-ssaem. I had a lot of fun.”

I could tell it wasn’t with the same amount of enthusiasm as he’d had earlier, but I forced myself to push my worries out of my mind. “I had fun too, Jeha. When our painting dries fully, I’ll have your appa bring it home for you. Or, you can come and get it yourself next time.”

The boy said nothing and bowed again before trudging away. Jinyoung pulled me in for a quick kiss before rushing after him. “I’ll call you later.”

I nodded, and closed the door after them. I let out a huge sigh as I dragged myself back to my workspace. Whatever the outcome of that meeting was, I was just glad it was over. I took another look at the painting that Jeha and I had created together, and I gasped.

Across the front of the painting was a big, messy splotch of purple paint.

“I don’t know why you’re afraid of an eight-year-old.”

“He hates me!” I whined, looking nervously at the gate of the school. I looked around me at the handful of parents that were standing around, waiting for their kids to come outside. “What if he doesn’t want to come with me and the parents here think I’m some kind of kidnapper?”

Jihyun sighed loudly over the phone. “Honey, he’s eight. If he doesn’t go with you, where will he go? It’s not like he can call a cab.”

“He could scream, or run, or I don’t know, ask another adult to call the police?” I hissed at her.

“Look, he’s not going to do that,” Jihyun stated calmly. “Jinyoung told him that you’re coming to pick him up today, right? If he weren’t okay with that, he’d have thrown a tantrum already, and Jinyoung would have had no choice but to ask someone else for the favor.”

“Jinyoung doesn’t believe that his son hates me,” I pointed out. “And the kid is pretty crafty. He acts like he’s fine in front of his dad, but… did I tell you about the painting?”

“Yes, you did, like three times,” Jihyun said blankly. “And what did Jinyoung say about that?”

“He said that Jeha probably did it by accident and was afraid to tell us because he didn’t want to get into trouble,” I answered, running a hand through my hair. “But the painting was upright, Jihyun. A spill would have been an accident. It looked like someone had flung a tin of paint at it. There’s no way that wasn’t deliberate.”

“Well, he’s eight,” Jihyun reminded me. “If he really did that, then you give him a good scolding when you see him and make sure he doesn’t vandalize anything again in future. If you’re going to be his stepmother, you should be able to discipline him.”

I scowled at my phone. “Really not helpful, Jihyun.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Jihyun complained. “I want to tell you that you’re crazy for thinking you’re at war with a kid, but you’re clearly not listening to me. None of this is rational. I don’t know how I can possibly help.”

I sighed. “You’re right. I’m over-thinking this. He’s eight. How hard can it be to win him over?”

“That’s the spirit,” Jihyun cheered. “Alright, my break’s over. Let me know how it went tonight!”

I hung up, steeling myself with another deep breath. Some of the kids were already starting to spill out of the school gates, and I kept my eyes on the entry way in case I missed Jeha. I only had to wait a few more minutes before the boy appeared, his eyes scanning the row of adults. When his gaze landed on me, his face visibly fell. This time, his dad wasn’t around, so there was no need to hide his disdain. He dragged his feet as he came up to me, bowing half-heartedly.

I forced a bright smile onto my face, determined not to let him get me down. “Hi, Jeha. Your appa had an important meeting and ahjumma is sick, so it’s just you and me today. What shall we do?”

Jeha looked up at me. “Can’t we just go home?”

“Your father said you need to get lunch first,” I pointed out. Technically, I could also bring him home and cook for him, but my cooking skills were abysmal and it was too early in our relationship for either father or son to find out. “What do you want to eat?”

He shrugged. “Anything.”

I forced myself to hold in the sigh that was forming. How was I supposed to know what he liked? I thought about it for a second. “How about fast food?” Kids loved fast food, right? How could I go wrong with fast food?

Jeha just shrugged again. “Okay.”

There was a fast food restaurant nearby, so we walked there together. We had to take a short walk, and there was a short queue, so the silence wasn’t that painful. It was when we had sat down with our burgers in front of us that I really started to feel the awkwardness.

“So…” I said, trying to break the tension. “How was school?”

“It was okay.”

He didn’t even look up at me when he said that. He wasn’t rude by any means. His tone was polite, and he used honorifics, but it was obvious that he had no desire to continue the conversation.

“Oookay,” I exhaled. “Learnt anything new?”

“Multiplication. Grammar. We also learnt about the life cycle of a fly.”

I perked up. “That’s interesting.” It wasn’t, but I was grasping at straws. “Tell me about that.”

“I don’t want you to marry my appa.”

I nearly choked on my burger. He was finally giving me something, but it was the last thing that I’d expected to come out of his mouth. “W-h… What?”

“Don’t marry him,” Jeha repeated. “We’re supposed to be a family. Me, him and umma. Not you.”

Wow, this kid really had a way with words. “I’m not marrying your appa, Jeha,” I said gently. “We’re just hanging out. Like friends, but closer. Like partners. We can support each other, and…”

“We don’t need you,” Jeha insisted. “We’re fine on our own.”

I swallowed, trying not to show him that his words were affecting me. “Jeha, your appa has been alone for a while, and he can get lonely. I know he has you, but he can also have a companion, an adult, beside him. Not to replace your umma, but—”

The moment the words were out of my mouth, I knew I had said something wrong. That was the trigger, the mention of his mother. Before I could stop it, something in the kid snapped.

“I don’t want you to be my umma!” he hollered at the top of his lungs. His hand lashed out, and he knocked his drink over, causing the liquid to spill all over the table and onto the floor.

I panicked, grabbing at napkins to try to mop up the mess. His face was red now, and he was sniffling, but there was nothing I could do. I felt like bursting into tears myself. The other patrons of the restaurant were staring at us now, and I could only imagine what they were thinking. “Stay here,” I whispered to Jeha, before rushing to the counter to get more napkins. One of the staff members eventually came over with a mop, and I could only bow my head, apologizing repeatedly. It was hands down the most embarrassing moment of my entire life, but that feeling was trumped by the feeling of dread that had settled itself deeply in the pits of my stomach. I could no longer look at Jeha in the eye. I wrapped up his abandoned burger (in case he got hungry later), shoved some napkins and him, and herded him out of the restaurant. One silent cab ride later, we reached Jinyoung’s apartment. The moment I got the front door open, he disappeared into his room and slammed the door shut behind him.

When I was sure that he wasn’t coming out, I sat down in the living room and let myself cry.

Jinyoung came home barely an hour later. I was still in the same spot, and he just had to take one look at me to know that something was up. He tried to put his arms around me. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

I pushed him away. Now that he was back, I could finally get the hell out of this place. “I can’t, Jinyoung. I can’t.”

I bolted from his apartment, leaving him sitting there and wondering what on earth had happened.

Jinyoung called that night.

I was lying in bed, hoping that my sheets would just swallow me whole so I didn’t have to go out and face the world again, when my phone rang. I considered not answering it, because I didn’t want to deal with anything that he had to say, but I saw the contact photo on my phone screen and my heart softened.

I missed him. I felt like complete and utter crap, and he was the only person in the world who could make me feel better. Even if he’d indirectly caused the pain in the first place.

I answered.

“Hey.”

His voice was heavy, and I just knew in my heart that he wasn’t going to be able to give me the comfort I needed.

“You there?” he asked when I didn’t respond.

“Mm.”

On the other end, he was silent too. Then, he let out a low sigh. “I spoke to Jeha.”

“I see.”

“I’m really sorry. No matter what he was feeling, that’s no way for him to behave. I’m punishing him by reducing his computer time, and he’s going to write you an apology letter.”

“It’s alright, he doesn’t need to.”

“He does,” Jinyoung insisted. “I don’t punish him nearly enough and he’s a brat. I’m sorry.”

An uncomfortable silence fell. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. I kind of wanted to ask him what this meant for the both of us, but I was too afraid to because I had a feeling I knew what his answer would be. I didn’t have to ask anyway, because Jinyoung knew what was on my mind.

He always did. He got me in a way that no one else ever did.

“Ryeowon,” he said quietly, and I knew what was coming. I felt the heaviness in his voice in a place deep within me. I knew, and I understood. “I really, really like you. These past couple of months, I’ve been really happy. You helped me open up my heart in a way I never thought was possible after I lost my wife.”

“I know,” I said, biting my bottom lip to keep my voice steady. The tears were already threatening to fall, but I didn’t want him to hear that. “You’ve made me really happy too.”

“If things were different…” his voice cracked, and I could tell that this conversation was as hard for him as it was for me. “I mean, I just… I’m so sorry I started this when I knew there was a chance I could hurt you. It’s just… Jeha is my first priority, and he always will be.”

“I know,” I assured him. “You don’t have to apologize for that.”

“I’m sorry anyway,” Jinyoung replied softly. “You deserve so much more than I can give you.”

I wished he wouldn’t say that, because it wasn’t true. The relationship I’d had with him, however short-lived, was possibly the best I’d ever had. It was my first real relationship, one that was based on trust and mutual support, and was unlike any of my previous toxic, unhealthy ones. With Jinyoung, I felt like I could finally believe that soulmates actually existed. But of course, like everything else in my life, it was too good to be true. I had found the perfect man for me, but I couldn’t have him because someone else had found him first.

Story of my life.

“I think it’s for the best if we just… end things here.”

That opened the floodgates. I knew they were coming, but nevertheless, hearing those words hurt so much that for a moment, I was paralyzed. I pursed my lips, trying to hold it in so he couldn’t hear me breaking down. I tried to take in deep breaths through my nose.

“Ryeowon… you still there?”

“Yes,” I managed to choke out. “I… yeah. I understand.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

We both fell silent again. What was there left to say? None of my previous relationships had ended like this, so I had no idea how to end this conversation. I couldn’t very well scream at him like how I did with all my exes and ask him to go to hell, since he hadn’t done anything wrong. This was the most mature, adult break-up I’d ever had, and I was out of my element. It felt contrived to thank him for the memories, and I couldn’t offer to remain friends because I knew I could never be friends with him. I’d fallen too deeply in love with him for us to turn back.

Wow. Love. It was the first time I’d thought of it that way. What perfect timing to realize that I was in love with someone, right after he’d broken up with me.

Again, story of my life.

“I guess… I’ll see you around at the café?” he said first, after a long pause.

“Yeah. Bye, Jinyoung.”

Have a nice life.

“Bye, Ryeowon.”