05. THE LIFE WHICH IS OWED.
part ii

Jungkook would later ask me, after the whole ordeal, if there was, in all my voracious habits of literary consumption, any book I regret having read.

"The Metamorphosis. Kafka." I would then say, "It's the kind of book that makes you feel all the wrong sorts of emotions. I don't like feeling angry after reading a book, but I was after that one. I was sad, too—empty sadness."

He'd peer at me from across the bed, where I was lying on my stomach, chin propped in my hands, legs curled at the knee and feet suspended mid-air.

Of course, he would ask me my reasons, and in the end, I would admit to him: that maybe, at the time, I simply wanted to believe family was more than what Kafka made it to be.

—

"Jungkook, I'm glad to finally meet you."

My mother is polite as Jungkook rises from his bow, her hand gesturing out for Heechul to accept Jungkook's gifts at the doorstep.

Despite spending the evening helping him learn about my family, Jungkook took care of much else on his own. He'd brought gifts, as was the tradition, large boxes and fancy bags of things I would have to sneak a peek through later.

"As am I." my father says when Jungkook bows to him next, extending his hand for a shake. "We've heard a lot about you."

It takes a few moments for everyone to get situated at the table, but my mother has the food brought in almost immediately after everyone sits. I'd let go of Jungkook's hand sometime in the process, but after seating myself in the large, wooden chair I'd practically grown up eating on, I grip his knee under the table.

Jungkook cracks a smile, but doesn't react visibly as my hand fidgets below the tablecloth, before his hand reaches underneath and clasps mine again.

I toss him a glance that a piano teacher would send their student before a recital. Encouraging, but nervous—actually, it felt more along the lines of a "Jeon Jungkook, please don't die."

My father starts the conversation, which begins with basic questioning. "How did you and Yerim meet each other?"

"The Choi wedding, about ten years ago." Jungkook answers. "We've been friends ever since."

"I see. And you attended school out of the country?"

"Cornell for my graduate. I wasn't old enough to live out on my own for my undergrad."

"Ah, if I remember correctly, you graduated high school quite early."

"Yes, I was able to complete my doctorate at an earlier age than most."

"What made you take an interest in your family business? As the youngest, you should have been able to pursue anything you wanted."

"I didn't think I would grow to enjoy it at first, either. I almost completely rejected the idea, if I'm honest. I actually planned to become a dentist, before realizing that curation and subsequent experiments were actually interesting to me."

"Your family is fortunate to have you." my father comments.

"No, I am fortunate to have them." Jungkook replies humbly.

"I watched your latest press conference on the news a month ago. How is the development of your new project going?"

"Great. Phase II experiment protocols were just sent for board approval. We should start in vitro in a month, in vivo in six months, and I expect to start clinical trials in a year or two."

"That's a good thing to hear. Congratulations, young man."

"Congratulations indeed." my mother adds, finally seeming to wedge in between my father's unrelenting questions. "I assume you'll be too busy for a wedding anytime soon?"

Jungkook shakes his head. "Of course not. I've set aside time for myself to take care of Yerim, and I'm prepared to set aside more."

"Mom, we're not in too much of a rush anyways." I add in, leading my mother to chuckle.

"My daughter, you are always in a rush since you were born." My mother looks towards Jungkook again. "Yerim was an early baby. Early talker, early walker, early reader. She was in a hurry to do everything. You've got yourself quite a fiancée."

I pinch Jungkook's thigh when he laughs. "I'm not that bad..." I mutter, shoving a forkful of food into my mouth.

"I'm happy to keep up with her." Jungkook says, to my surprise. A grin pulls at his lips. "In fact, I've suggested to my parents that they visit the both of you as soon as possible—my mother is particularly excited to plan the wedding."

My father nods. "It's been a while since I've heard from either of them. Bring my good wishes to them for me."

Jungkook agrees heartily.

—

Dinner goes relatively well.

Jungkook goes home first, after assuring my mother that he would endorse discount prices for orders from her hospitals. (Hence, I find that my mother is easily won over when my marriage is made a business deal.) Meanwhile, I stay behind to speak to my father, who sits in his chair in the study room a few moments after Jungkook is out the door, silently reading over a few files on his desk.

"Hey, dad." I murmur as I enter the room, as quietly as I can. "Thank you for tonight...I'm really grateful. I know I should have told you earlier about Jungkook."

My father glances up from his papers as he shakes his head. "Yerim, I respect the decisions you make for yourself. I can't say I wasn't upset at the time, but you're your own person. You know better than I do what will make you happy." He pauses for a moment. "But, Yerim, listen to me when I say this."

And it was in that moment that I braced myself for a reprimand. I mustered up the last of my courage, a small spark of determination, and what childish obstinance I could find inside of me. I expected my father's scolding any minute—but when I finally find the courage to look up at him again, I only felt a slight, painful tug wrack me on the inside.

My father's broad shoulders shake visibly as they turn inward, waning over his desk. His head is buried in his hands, and for a few seconds, he doesn't make a sound. In all my life, I'd never seen my father like this—so frail, so vulnerable, as if after all these years, he'd finally aged.

"When you were little and beginning to walk—like any parent raising their first child—I became fearful of the possibility that you might fall." His voice comes muffled, trailing weakly out from his sleeve. "Suddenly, everything seemed dangerous in the house. Drawers, doorknobs, walls, corners, tables—they were clearly just inanimate things, but they developed evil faces whenever I watched you totter past them. I was so afraid that they might somehow hurt you."

He looks up at me, then, a wistful expression forming in the fine lines of his face. "But if I never stood there and let you walk alone, despite the dangers, then you may have never learned to walk at all."

My throat feels suddenly dry. I want to say something, anything at all, but I can't seem to form a sentence.

"My Yerim is all grown up now." my father sighs, his pen clattering on his desk as he finally set it down. There is a faint flicker of sadness in his eyes. "And your father is growing old. Sometimes, it's still hard for me to admit what a father must admit—that I cannot keep my child safe forever in her own walk of life."

My father stands, a guilt evident in his voice that I'd never heard before. "Your mom and I have failed you as parents." he finally says.

I shake my head vehemently. "It's not your fault, Appa..."

"No, it is. It's your mom's as much as it is mine—but it's still mine." His voice is broken, but firm. "Yerim-ah, regardless of who it is you love, I'm glad that you have chosen to love, despite what we have shown you in this house..." he tells me, then. "Do not lose sight of the love you have—to this day, losing sight is your Appa's greatest regret."

—

When I find Jungkook in our room that night, I can't seem to find it in me to feel victorious. Instead, I fall into bed with a muffled thump, my eyes closed and my hair fanning out underneath me, a few silky strands falling over my face.

"You won't lose too much money over our marriage, right?" I mumble somewhat incoherently as I nestle under the covers. "I don't understand anything about the science, but business I do know—brand name drugs like yours aren't the cheapest, Jungkook. I've looked into my mother's hospitals before, and your company is right up there with Merck on pricing."

I hear a rustle beside me as Jungkook sets down his book and slides into the sheets somewhere nearby. "Yerim, as long as your mother is willing to let me marry you, then any loss is a gain in my book." is his reply.

I open my eyes, just barely as I say, "You know, when you try, you're really good at making people like you." Yawning, my eyelids flutter shut once more. "My mother's convinced that you're twenty times better than my last few boyfriends combined—I can't believe I was even worried you'd have trouble with her."

Jungkook turns off the lamp at his side, shrouding the room in a soothing, silent darkness.

"I couldn't have done it without you, Yerim." he admits, quietly.

"Hm...you flatter me." I sigh, rolling onto my side. I don't feel comfortable sleeping on my back—there's a sudden heaviness in my chest, and I can't seem to make it go away.

After a small pause, I finally blurt out the lingering thought on my mind.

"Jungkook, I don't know why, but I don't think I ever loved my parents enough. I don't think I ever did enough for them."

At first, Jungkook doesn't speak, but I know he's listening.

"It's kind of stupid, but I don't feel, I don't feel like..." My voice breaks a little. "I don't feel like it's their fault. It's not their fault, they keep saying it's their fault but it's not, it's really not that things turned out this way—"

I feel Jungkook's arm encircle my waist, then, a warmth surrounding me like a blanket. He'd moved across the bed and closed the space between us.

"Yerim..." he whispers, holding me gently.

"I know my parents stayed together all these years for me. They wanted to give me a family I could be proud of, a family that was normal. They sacrificed the rest of their lives so that their child didn't have to bear with the stigma of having divorced parents. Jungkook, I ruined their chance at happiness, in this way." I ramble as I shift weakly, eyes still closed.

"Rim, no matter what, your parents would never regret having you."

"That just makes it worse." I say. "That I can't change anything. It's been so many years, and I haven't fixed anything. And I know I'm not supposed to fix anything, and I can't fix anything even if I tried, but I still think if I really did try, maybe I could."

Jungkook pulls himself closer to me. His long body curves around mine, not quite against my skin but near enough for heat to seep in through my clothing. After a short moment, he asks, quietly, "Yerim, what does it mean, to your parents, to have a good daughter?"

I think for a second before answering, "It means not being let down."

Jungkook seems to process this. "Then, from what I saw tonight, you, Kim Yerim, are a good daughter. You've never let them down."

I make a small noise of intrigue. "And why do you say that?" I exhale quietly, my chest falling as the air leaves my lungs.

"Whenever they talked about you, there wasn't one time where I couldn't hear the pride behind their words, Rim." Jungkook says. "They're proud of their daughter, they're proud of you—and I am, too. You're someone that people around you can be proud of, you know that? You're brave...not afraid to speak your mind, to live your life the way you want to live it, and you joke about being vain and fitting societal stereotypes of a spoiled heiress, but you're kind and humble...like at the grocery store today, you weren't upset when that little girl spilled her yogurt on your dress, even though it's your favorite...Even though you agreed to hire help, you still made me promise to let you do a lot of things on your own, the dishes and the cooking and the laundry, and I know it's not because you like doing the work, it's because you'd feel guilty putting extra work on an older woman...Being around you has made me smile and laugh more than I can keep track or remember, even though you're of horribly stupid judgement when it comes to swimming pools..."

"Yah..." I mutter half-heartedly in protest, though I feel nothing but grateful—though I feel nothing but warm.

"So I think...I think it's not true when you said you ruined their happiness. When nothing else about their lives could make them happy, you gave them a reason to believe that their marriage was worth fighting for."

Jungkook tells me that as much as their lives are a part of ours, as much as we feel responsible for what their lives have become, the choice of forgiveness is something that someone can't make for another—and something that isn't easily made in the first place.

Only they can make the decision of letting go.

"Don't you think it's strange, that after all my parents have been through, I still consider marriage in my own life?" I ask, then. "That I'm not scared or wary of the idea?"

"I suppose." Jungkook chuckles lightly. "I'm lucky to have you."

"Ah, you're indeed lucky to have a beautiful, y, smart and successful wife named Kim Yerim..."