15. ONE HUNDRED YEARS OF SOLITUDE.

Gabriel García Marquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude: "Wherever they might be they always remember that the past was a lie, that memory has no return, that every spring gone by could never be recovered, and that the wildest and most tenacious love was an ephemeral truth in the end."

—

Jungkook seems to take his time as he inspects the pinkish marks around my wrist. The space between his eyebrows crease as he does, his eyes dark as the room falls into a standstill. My vision blurs a little as I watch the darkness in his eyes fade, muted, but nevertheless there. To quote from Fight Club, "You know how they say you only hurt the ones you love? Well, it works both ways."

Soojin breaks the silence first. "Oppa, why don't you look at me? Why don't you speak?"

Jungkook ignores her. Instead, he stares at my wrist as he asks me, "Yerim, are you okay?"

I nod.

Jungkook's eyes flash with guilt, but I understand why—he believes he has made it difficult, asking me to stand on his side.

But in truth, it has always been an easy decision.

Soojin suddenly seems frantic as she springs to action. "You took advantage of me, Jungkook! I went to see you and you took advantage of me! Why...why won't you say something?"

Jungkook finally lets go of my wrist. He raises his head toward Soojin, demeanor suddenly detached and expressionless. "Soojin, I have never thought of taking advantage of you." he says, his voice quiet.

"That's impossible. We grew up together. You've always wanted me that way, the way you look at me..." Soojin stutters.

"If that's true, then why did you come into my room and close the door behind you?" Jungkook shakes his head. "You would have been afraid of me. If you thought of me as a predator, you wouldn't have put yourself at risk."

"I liked you, so I wanted to be alone with you." Soojin counters, eyes bright with tears. "I didn't know you would hurt me. You say you didn't do anything now, but you did! No one here can prove that you haven't. If you didn't do anything, then why would you give me such a big check?"

"That check..." My mom starts, only to be drowned out by Ms. Seo's anger.

"That's right, we have evidence." Ms. Seo trembles. "We—"

Jungkook walks out of the room, only to reappear thirty seconds later with a laptop. He places it on the table nearby, turning it for everyone to see the screen.

"There are 24-hour security cameras installed on this property." he says, sending the living room into a dead silence.

We watch together as Jungkook enters a timestamp into the console. A black-and-white rendition of Soojin appears within the screen, knocking on the door of Jungkook's room. We watch as Jungkook opens the door, as Soojin walks past him, placing a thermos of soup besides Jungkook's bed. We watch, wordlessly, as she sits down on the mattress, speaking to Jungkook—who only stands by the door in reply.

After two minutes, she leaves, unscathed.

I turn from the screen to face Soojin, whose face is uncannily pale. My mother follows my line of sight as Ms. Seo's face falls.

Jungkook's expression is cold as he reaches for his phone, his voice echoing in the silent room before he looks at Soojin and says, "If you don't leave before my lawyer arrives, I will press charges."

Relief floods through my veins.

—

I accompany my mom home that night after dinner.

It was needless to say that my mom had many things to say to me in private, but besides that, Jungkook and I had agreed in our contract that neither of us were obligated to spend the night with an in-law in the house.

As I pour myself a glass of water in the kitchen, my mother asks me: "That check that Jungkook wrote to that girl...did he ever explain that to you?"

The truth was, I'd forgotten all about that check. After careful thought, I answer: "Um, there was indeed a check...how much was it?"

My mom immediately sees past my act. "So you didn't ask him, and he never told you?"

I swirl the water in my glass. "He should have his own reasons for doing so. " I begin, "If he doesn't tell me why he wrote a check to Soojin, then he has his own reasons for that as well. Eomma, don't you always say I shouldn't ask too many questions?"

It was the truth—I never questioned Jungkook because it simply hadn't crossed my mind. I cared more about how hurt the situation must've made him than how suspicious any aspect of it could be.

My mom tsks her tongue. "I'm worried, Yerim. I can barely sleep these days. I'm worried that you'll have trouble managing your marriage—after all, dating and marriage are two completely different things." My mom sighs, adding, "But I will say that today showed me you'll be fine. You understand how to trust someone, and besides, you're my daughter after all—you're smart and capable..."

I listen to my mother's rambling until I hear my phone vibrate in my pocket.

It's Jungkook.

He's outside waiting for me.

"Mom, I'm going out for a walk." I say before I step out of the kitchen, glass of water untouched.

When I grab my coat and open the door, I see Jungkook a few feet away from the terrace, standing still.

Jungkook wears a long coat over his turtleneck, hands stuffed in the pockets. The look on his face is troubled as I approach him—slanted brows lightly creased, dark eyes dim with shadows. He's there like he's stood there for a long time, and he waits for me to approach him before he begins to walk, with me following him, side by side.

It's silent between us for a while; the city fills our silence with whistles and roars.

"You're not upset?" I finally ask after some time, breaking the dry air.

To my surprise, Jungkook didn't look bothered at all, despite what had taken place this evening. There wasn't any anger or pain on his face, nor was there disbelief. He looked startlingly normal, and neither was the silence a reason for concern—Jungkook was, by nature, a more solitary person to begin with.

"No." Jungkook says as he glances over at me for a moment, then turns his head back towards the road.

"You're not...shocked that someone you trusted would turn on you like that?" I ask again, later.

"No." Jungkook answers once more.

We stop at a park bench. It's too dark for anyone else to be outside, so we settle on the empty bench side by side, a few inches apart.

"Why not?" I finally bring myself to question.

Jungkook stares off into the distance, but it doesn't take me long to read his mind—like a leap across a large puddle, I make it half-way, and place my foot where there was once only water—disrupting the tranquility that once was.

"You never trusted them from the beginning." I say. "In fact...you don't trust that anyone loves you unconditionally. That's why you're not surprised, because you've already accepted that one day, we're all going to leave you, or betray you, or lie to you just like they did. That's what you believe."

When Jungkook doesn't answer, I meet his gaze with my own, and a shiver runs down my spine—a twisting, wrenching sort of feeling, that comes only after the realization of a simple, yet incomprehensible truth. I suddenly realize that I should be very, very afraid of this man, because I understand him too well for my own good.

I don't want to understand him. I continue to peer, only because a part of me wants him to do what I know he will not; I want him to prove me wrong when I chuckle quietly to myself and say, "You think the same thing about me, too."

He's silent again, but I can sense him turning to stare at me.

The moment I turn my head to face him, I regret it. Because what I see is not anger, nor rejection, nor disappointment in his eyes.

It is acceptance.

"Maybe." he is what he finally says, after a moment. His voice is gentle, as if he knows his answer will break me.

Maybe.

He almost sounds apologetic.

I shake my head. "That's okay. You're being honest." I concede. "That's all I needed."

Ingersoll writes in On the Gods and Other Essays, "No one infers a god from the simple, from the known, from what is understood, but from the complex, from the unknown, and incomprehensible. Our ignorance is God; what we know is science."

I finally seem to understand, that it isn't that Jungkook chooses not to believe in love. Nor does he disregard that one day, he will come to love someone, and that love will be real, and it will consume him.

It's that he chooses to believe that he is meant to be lonely—that the most tenacious love is but an ephemeral truth in the end—short, fleeting, and destined to become the past—where the past is nothing but a lie.

Because love requires faith.

And faith?

Faith is ignorance.

"Can I lean my head on your shoulder?" I pipe up suddenly, an unusual request. Before, I never asked before I acted. I had never felt the need to ask, until now. My throat is so dry it hurts to swallow as I stare at my hands, my vision blurring.

Jungkook murmurs a word of consent, his expression unwavering in the periphery of my sight.

Tentatively, I tilt my head so that my temple rests lightly on the surface of his coat. Unspeakably, I'm scared that he would find my head too heavy and shrug it off.

"Maybe we haven't thought this through." I reason quietly, then, closing my eyes. My eyelashes tickle my cheeks as I do, slightly wet. Yerim, Yerim...you should have understood this part of him a long time ago. "It's my fault, you know. I agreed to marry you without telling you the truth about how I felt. You deserved at least that. Maybe...we should reconsider this whole thing.  Maybe we'll just go back to the way it was supposed to be—we'll get our certificate and go through the motions and...and we'll live our separate lives. That sounds better, doesn't it?"

I don't look up, but I know my words haven't had an empty effect on him. His shoulder is shaking very slightly, and his breathing tickles my hair before I finally raise my head. I kiss him on the corner of his mouth before he can say anything, because I don't know when I'll let myself kiss him again.

"I'll wait for you, okay? Maybe not too long, but I will." I say. "No matter what, in one month, you'll be my husband. You're still my best friend. I'll always care about you until the day I die. But if there comes a day when I'm tired of waiting and I don't love you anymore, I'll still look back and say, 'I loved you like this.' Because that's the truth. Please—"

I blank completely when he leans in and kisses me so hard that I forget to breathe. His hand keeps my face from turning away as he parts my lips with his tongue, then my teeth.

"Fix me, Yerim." he gasps raggedly when he finally lets me go, and my heart wrenches like it's been thrown away.

I almost want to laugh at the fact that he believes I can change him, just as I once believed I could.

But I don't anymore.

"I can't." I say, still heaving for air. Then, I stand and walk away.

I can't, Jungkook.

I can't.