chapterone

An étude is an instrumental musical composition, most commonly of considerable difficulty, usually designed to provide practice material for perfecting a particular technical skill.

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“Let’s get divorced.”

Kang Seulgi looked up from her newspaper and froze mid-chew, her mouth slanted open slightly, with bits of scrambled eggs on her lips. “What did you say?” she asked finally, swallowing her food.

Her wife (ex-wife?) forced a small smile at her expression. “I want a divorce,” reiterated Irene, her eyes somewhat dim. “I think… I’ve had enough.” The eye-smile that she sent her seemed spent, exhausted. She set down her chopsticks, feeling her heart rate double within her chest. “Are you… are you unhappy with me?” she asked. The vulnerability that shown on her face tugged at her heartstrings, but her mind had already made itself up.

“I…” she began, mindlessly stirring her bowl of oatmeal. “I just think it’s best if we went our separate ways.”

She was quiet for a moment, deciding how best to approach the situation. “Can we at least talk about it? Discuss it a little bit more before it’s finalized?”

Irene shook her head resolutely. “I’ve thought about it for a long time. I’m having my lawyer mail over the papers later this week. I’ll leave them on your desk for you to sign.” Rising from her seat at the dining table, she disappeared into the master bedroom once again, presumably to get ready for the day.

Seulgi simply stared blankly at the half-empty plate of breakfast before her.

What the just happened?

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“Welcome to your first session of marriage counseling.”

Irene twiddled her thumbs anxiously, sending a nervous smile to the counselor. Seulgi just stared blankly at the pastel colored walls before her.

“I can’t believe this is happening to me,” she mumbled, rubbing a frustrated hand over her face. Irene shot her an annoyed look and reached across the couch to smack her shoulder. “Behave,” she ordered. She massaged her temples for a few seconds before relaxing into the loveseat.

The marriage counselor simply watched on in amusement, taking notes on a legal pad. Clearing to get their attention, she tilted her glasses forward on the bridge of her nose and grinned thinly. “My name is Kim Yerim. I hold a doctorate in Psychology, and have extensive experience in conflict resolution and mediation. I used to mediate international affairs, but I learned that most conflicts stem from the home, not from government—which is why I do what I do now,” she said with a wry smile. “Now, why are the two of you here today?”

Irene started. “Because I wanted to get a divorce—”

“—And I thought it was a bad idea,” interrupted Seulgi. Irene narrowed her eyes at her and continued, “And, apparently, the judge thought it was bad idea, too. So we’re here. For six months.”

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“Irreconcilable differences,” she read aloud, ticking the box next to the form. Seulgi furrowed her eyebrows. Just what differences did they have tha