Yuri stilled. Minju’s smile only grew at the disbelief on the woman’s face. 

Finally, she revelled, the two most important people in her life would bond after a torturous decade of misplaced hostility. 

She could see it—Yuri and her wife gushing when their favourite artists (which was like, all of them, really, now that she thinks of it,) would release a new album while she and Hyewon looked on fondly——Hyewon! The four of them would go to that one seafood place on the east coast that her wife loved to death—Maybe Yuri’s father would let them take the private jet to Jeju as a romantic getaway—

“Min, what the . Is she plain stupid or something?”

Finally, Yuri would say something nice about Chaewon. Yes, it was a dream come— Wait. 

“What?”

“Y’know what, she probably is. She is. I should’ve never doubted—I should’ve known after all these years you still get all excited and giddy when she does the bare minimum. You sounded so overjoyed on the phone, I thought… Whatever. It’s shocking how Kim Chaewon never fails to disappoint.”

She should’ve seen this coming. The disbelief was from her usual here comes my ‘Why Kim Chaewon is the Worst Wife Ever’ rant scowl. Not from the jewel-studded gold-laced way-too-expensive watches presented graciously in the vitrine in the corner of her living room.

It started when Yuri settled on a couch with a click of her tongue. Then, an eye roll. One long shake of her head, and the familiar exhale of displeasure. 

Minju knew what came next.

“Spare me the speech this once, Yul...”

Of course, she knew what followed this too—her best friend’s hands flailed with exasperation, a frown broke out on her face. 

“No, Minju. I don’t get what you see in her. D’you even know how many people would be willing to throw themselves at your feet if they had the chance? She takes you for granted way too much. You deserve better than her.”

“Yuri...”

“What? Am I wrong or something? What kind of wife spends her nights working all the while knowing her wife’s at home waiting up for her? Huh? And even when she’s home she doesn’t bother spending time with——Why does she need to earn more money for the ing company, anyway? Her family’s got enough to last generations! Seriously, Min. It’s been a year. Don’t you think—”

“—C’mon, Yul. You of all people know how much I—”

“Yeah, I do. And I want you to experience something better, Min. You’re too good for her. I don’t want you to keep hurting yourself. I don’t want to hurt you. But has she ever given you a sign that she can return all the love you’ve given her? ing ten years, Minju. All those times you cried over her... That’s a decade of all the times she found your feelings to be burdening. ‘Sorry, I’m not looking for love right now’. ‘Sorry, I made a commitment to someone else’. ‘Sorry, but I’ve got the company to focus on’... Ten years. You don’t even know there’s better people out there ‘cause you never saw anyone but her! It’s stupid to go on like this, Min. It’s like you’re willingly making a fool of yourself. I just want you to be happy. You know that, right?”

A deep breath. Yuri stole a glance at the two watches shining under the mood lighting. 

Minju knew this was coming. With heavy steps, she approached the velvet couch, her hands reached for Yuri’s in reassurance. 

“I know. You want what’s best for me. It’s just… I’ve loved her for so long, Yul. I can’t imagine being with someone else.”

“Maybe if you—”

“—Hold it. Wait. Let’s not forget she was essentially forced into this marriage. I know it’s pointless defending her, but. It was mostly for business, you know that. I just got lucky that it was her.  

“Hey, at least my teenage dream came true, right?”

Yuri chuckled as she gave strength to her hands.

“She still knows that you’re in love with her. She doesn’t make an effort to try, Minju. That’s why I say she takes you for granted. You shouldn’t have to spend the rest of your life like this. You and your brother manage the company fine now—and she’s doing more than enough to keep her company on top. My best friend needs to know what it’s like to be loved. I can’t keep seeing her this way.”

“...But she tries, Yul. She helped me deal with my grief over the past year. She tries. It’s hard to understand when she does, that’s all.”

“Min… I get that and I’m thankful for that, but... she’s buying watches you already own for your anniversary. They were a gift from your parents, she has to know how much you treasure them—if she doesn’t, then what is even the point of trying?”

Silence rushed into the room. Yuri raised a brow as if to prove her point. 

She knew it would end the way it always ended: Minju would tell her not to worry so much, insist that she’s happy, they’d talk about Yuri’s life, and Minju would remain in an empty house after she left. 

She was used to it, and honestly, it was alright. The silence, the quiet vitrine barely filled, the unmoving velvet couches. 

Mornings spent at a deserted kitchen counter eating a lonely breakfast, one scribbled message on the refrigerator’s magnetic board—Chaewon told her of whatever she managed to cook up before leaving for office. If her evenings would be spent as a lonely dinner as well. 

It wasn’t most days, but it was enough to feel half a presence, half an absence. 

“She doesn’t have those watches, Yuri.”

Out of place. 

Seeing Chaewon seated at the kitchen counter at four in the afternoon was anything but a usual sight: but there she was, in her business clothes, a dull look on her face, her voice revealing clear disinterest to address the woman as she scrolled through her phone. 

Kim Chaewon looked out of place. Minju barely caught the reddening of Yuri’s cheeks.

How awkward. 

“How much did you hear?”

“You deserve better than her. Well, I heard the whole thing, it was just more clear after that. Because, you know, I unlocked the door of my house with my keys. Just to hear you criticize my gift for my… wedding anniversary.”

Sharp eyes darted to Yuri and fell upon her. Her ears flared with heat as if she’d been caught. 

Yuri was taking the situation much better than Minju was, probably because her best friend couldn’t bear to look weak in front of Kim Chaewon. 

Yuri hadn’t liked her from the day Minju came crying and told her of the first time Kim Chaewon rejected her feelings. 

It was extremely stupid of Minju to not give up after that, but when you continue to be in the same high school, go to the same college, see each other every other day because your parents want their companies to merge — it’s just not that easy to move on, Minju had decided.

Outright rejection is one thing, but for Chaewon to pretend Minju’s feelings didn’t exist each time they met was worse. No wonder Minju couldn’t let go. 

“Well, you heard enough. Hopefully, some sense was knocked into you even if it wasn’t into your wife. She was spending her wedding anniversary alone because her wife decided the office was a better place to be. Hm, I wonder what I should make of that?”

With that, she flashed Minju an uneasily reassuring smile and shot Chaewon a look of disapproval. Yuri stood to leave.

It wasn’t an empty house, but it was still the same silence. 

Minju didn’t know what to do. When was Chaewon ever here on a Tuesday at four in the afternoon? She glanced up to see her wife. Still in that corner of the kitchen, going through her phone, fiddling with the cuffs of her shirt. 

“...Did you have lunch?”

“Yeah. Did you?”

“Yeah, Yuri and I went out.”

“Hm.”

She didn’t know why Chaewon was here but it was likely she came intending to do something — why else would she come here at four in the afternoon — whatever it was, it went in vain. Now, Chaewon was upset. 

All the telltale signs were there. Her eyes were glazed over with obvious displeasure, the corners of her lips went down slightly. She was trying to keep her brows neutral, but they revealed it all in a twitch. (Minju found it cute, but that didn’t really help with anything.)

“I liked the gift.”

“Oh?”

“Yup! You got my taste down perfectly,”

“They’re not the same as the ones your parents gave you. You know, right?”

There was an expectant look on Chaewon’s face. How could she break it to her that Yuri was right when she looked at her like that? Hoping to get the doubt out of Chaewon’s eyes, she smiled. “Chae…”

Minju couldn’t get another word in. Her wife let out a deep breath, shaking her head as she left her place at the kitchen counter. “That’s what I wanted to talk about. I guess my timing wasn’t right.”

“Oh.”

“Well—Sorry, I’ve got—There’s this meeting I rescheduled to five, and the board’s already mad at me for that… Let’s—Let’s talk in the evening, yeah? I’ll try to come home early.”

“Oh-Okay, yeah.”

(

They’re not the same.

They’re not the same watches, in fact. Minju checked as soon as Chaewon left the house.

Mint green and white. One from her dad, one from her mom. But Chaewon’s gift had something more. More intricate designs. A heavier feel. Two simple inscriptions.

I’m sorry.

Thank you.

Why?

It was overwhelming. What did Chaewon want to say? 

Did she want to know?

Most nights, Minju couldn’t tell when Chaewon got home. She was quiet, almost gentle in each movement she made. Tonight, though, she couldn’t sleep. 

They didn’t talk. It’s not that Minju was pretending to sleep, it’s just that Chaewon didn’t bother to check if she was awake or not. 

What did Chaewon want to say?

Regardless of that — it was simply overwhelming. What would a serious talk with Chaewon be like, especially when it concerned their relationship? 

Unpleasant emotions loomed over her. 

A part of her wanted to know what her wife thought of the things Yuri said. 

A part of her wanted more. 

But Minju was a rational person. She couldn’t force Chaewon into loving her, no. Her wife was under no obligation to love her just because they were married. They were partners. Caring for each other in the name of the law. Legally. 

She couldn’t ask for more. She couldn’t hope for more.

“Minju? You awake?”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Chaewon wasn’t supposed to call out her name. 

They didn’t talk. Minju pretended to sleep. It wasn’t that cold, but a warm blanket was draped over her. 

What could this complex emotion be?

Fear?

Or her heart being taken by Kim Chaewon once again, like it always has?

)

-

Chaewon wasn’t the silent type. 

It was quite the opposite, really. Minju knew, and Chaewon knew that she knew. She couldn’t help it. 

She just didn’t know how to act around Kim Minju. What to say. She couldn’t face the thought of Kim Minju— alone, she couldn’t face it alone.

Change is hard. The desire to change is fickle. How do you start acting like “yourself” around your wife? How can you be “yourself” when it’s always been like this between you and her? Maybe the you around her is a part of you only she gets to see. It’s still you. It’s still Chaewon. Right?

Minju, Minju felt like a constant. Minju never changed. She was always her purest self. Chaewon could never be like that. Each person is different and demands a different version of Kim Chaewon. So why, why on earth did Minju bare her soul for the world to see?

Even after ten years of an unlabelled relationship, Chaewon did not understand Kim Minju.

She couldn’t.

Why did Minju not demand her purest self? Why did she never try to see through the veil of mistrust? Was it plain stupidity? Why did Minju not change for a complete decade? No. How did her feelings for her idea of ‘Kim Chaewon’ not change? Why?

Idle thoughts as she laid idle on the couch.

Minju was the inexpressive type. Inexpressive in the sense of her troubles, not emotions. 

Chaewon didn’t know if she was that way only around her. If she was that way because of her. If Chaewon was not Minju’s Chaewon, would she have come to terms with her parents’ death sooner? Would love have served as a better solution than two hours at the therapist each week? Would they be closer? Or would Minju fall out of love with her? 

She didn’t know. 

Nothing, Chaewon had no answers. Idle thoughts. 

At first glance, Minju seemed to be inexpressive. It’s what she thought as she watched her wife come home from a long day at work. Cold, aloof, guarded. You could mistake it for arrogance.

It was a routine she wasn’t familiar with, so she watched it keenly. 

She had that coat ever since the third year of college. The details are a little fuzzy, but it was a gift from Yuri for her birthday. Right? It was thrown on an empty loveseat as Minju ran her fingers through her hair. A deep sigh, something muttered under her breath. Minju’s keys clattered against the marble counter.

Her wife was exhausted. Chaewon watched as the woman slumped down into a pile of nothingness. The thought seemed to come gradually, the thought of Kim Chaewon. After a moment of contemplation, Minju looked to the empty board facing her. It didn’t help, did it? Nothingness, an absence. The void she leaves in her home. Did it ever do any good to Minju?

“Minju.”

Chaewon wasn’t the type to get startled, but Minju was. Chaewon was the expressive type, but Minju was even more so. You could tell by the third-fourth-fifth—at most—glance. Her emotions were worn on her sleeve. Every time she smiled, the rare dimple on her cheek never failed to make an appearance. Each time she cried. It would be hard for her to catch her breath and hold it all in; it was just who she was. 

A discernible frown and raised brows, Chaewon didn’t know why, but she always knew what it meant. Some things have no meaning, cause, or reason. Such a thing was Chaewon’s intuition. 

Now, Minju was startled. The quick jerk of her head and hand flying to her chest led to an uneasy turn, then Chaewon saw the shock. Wide eyes and cheeks dusted pink. 

Minju was a weak-hearted person, so Chaewon learned to be strong-willed. When this happened, she doesn’t know, but it turned out that way. In contrast, her eyes were calm, posture relaxed. Kim Chaewon was patient as her wife searched for words to say. 

“Chae—! You scared me,”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, I just, I didn’t expect you’d be here.

“—I mean… You’re usually at work this time, so… The house is empty, most days. I mean—I didn’t notice you were there! I’m not used to checking the couch when I come home… I just—”

“—I get it, Min. It’s alright.”

“Yeah…”

Cheeks dusted red: that meant Minju was embarrassed. Chaewon was too, but she knew how to keep it under the wraps. At least in front of Minju. Her eyes darted to the floor, behind her wife, the white ceiling. “Are you done with work today?”

“Oh. Yeah. And I was getting sick of staying in the office for so long, so…”

“Ah. It’s a good thing you came home, then.”

She nodded. Seeing Minju lean back against the counter, she felt compelled to stand instead of addressing her wife while seated, but it would be awkward. Chaewon didn’t want that. The air was thick enough as it was. 

Her gift wasn’t in the vitrine and it irked her most slightly. Minju said she liked it, right? So why would she hide them away from the living room? That isn’t a very Minju thing to do, is it?

“Long day today?” Chaewon asked. 

“Hm?”

“Did you have a tough day?”

“Um—It was a little tiring, that’s all. Nothing I can’t handle. Why do you ask?”

Why shouldn’t I ask?

“You look tired...”

Minju smiled sheepishly. “I’ll be fine tomorrow. Today’s just been hectic.”

The silence had no time to settle.

One finger tapped against the other. The sentences that needed to be said were swallowed down. Her wife was restless, sparing a glance and flashing a polite smile at her before she left the room. 

“Wait.”

Should she let her rest for a while? Should she not bother Minju when she’s this exhausted? Should she wait a little longer for a better time? Minju waited, she always would. Chaewon knew. How much longer would it be this way?

It was there again. Unfamiliarity. Why was Chaewon home on a Tuesday at four in the afternoon — why was she not at work when Minju came home — why did she ask how her day was — why did she want to talk, what did she want to talk about. 

Chaewon did not understand Minju, but she could see through it all. 

Minju was transparent. (Or maybe; against her own will, she learned all these traits, quirks and behaviours that could only be called Kim Minju’s.) 

After ten years, it was the same. A sick sense of unfamiliarity weaved through the space between them. How much longer will she give into you?

“...Nevermind.”

“What is it, Chae?”

“It’s nothing.”

“...”

“You should get some rest. I’ve, uh—got some mails left to send for the day. I’ll—”

“What did you want to talk about?”

“What?”

Was the surprise obvious on Chaewon’s face? Did it show when Minju moved to sit on a velvet sofa, neither beside nor across her? Her wife took in a deep breath to calm her nerves, fingers smoothening the surface they rested on. Minju was weak-hearted, but she could ground herself much better than Chaewon could. “You said you wanted to talk yesterday.”

“Yeah, but we can—we can talk later. If you’re not up for it.”

“No, it’s okay.”

Picking at her lips, she met Minju’s gaze. 

“...The watches. They’re not the same.”

“Yeah, I know... I saw after you left.”

“They don’t sell them anymore so I had to get them custom-made.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“How’d you know the exact model, though?”

“Well, you used to wear them all the time. I must’ve noticed someday, I guess.”

Chaewon could see the words amount to a sigh. “What is it?”

“Nothing, just… it’s been two years since I… you know.”

“Oh. Hm.”

“And the inscriptions?” Minju said, rolling her silver ring, causing Chaewon to look down at her own.

“I needed you to know that.”

“Know what?”

If Minju ever changed, would Chaewon notice?

The question was unexpected. Out of the blue. Minju knew the answers, and yet she asked. 

Chaewon didn’t raise a brow. Her eyes stayed level. If anything, her gaze grew more intense. There wasn’t a hint of disbelief in her demeanour. 

“I’m sorry, Minju.”

“Why?”

“Just. For everything. What Yuri said… she was right. I’m sorry for all of it… and...”

“And…?”

“I’m thankful that you’ve always been there, Min. I can’t—I can’t express the gratitude I’ve had for all this time… it’s been so long, but—You should know. Thank you for being there.”

Minju knew she wasn’t good with words, so she waited only for a few minutes to pass to reassure Chaewon. 

She wasn’t good with words but she had to get it through. 

“And the watches. You don’t wear those because it reminds you of them. So these… you know, the ones I… Last month, you said you were ready to move on from the past. So… I don’t know, dwell on the present instead. Not on the memories of the past. When you wear these, think of us.”

Was it obvious?

Could she tell Chaewon was embarrassed?

Did Minju know all the telltale signs? 

I know us is vague and intangible. But I think it’s time to change, I want to change. I felt like things were changing, but I can’t tell. I don’t know. How do I be a better person to you, Minju? Can you tell me? Can you help me?

What are my feelings for you?

I couldn’t tell you even if my life depended on it. 

Still.

Would you like to find out with me?

(

In ten years, they never held hands. It’s not like either of them wasn’t fond of skinship. Chaewon never cared to initiate it and Minju was just too shy. It only dawned upon Chaewon at the moment. No relationship of hers ever started with the suggestion of holding hands in bed but it wasn’t really the start for them, was it?

Was Minju always this bashful?

She was. Minju could feel her heartbeat in her ears. Almost worried that Chaewon could hear it.  

Yuri would say it was ridiculous — stop getting excited when Kim Chaewon does the bare minimum, but whatever. This time, it was different. 

Her wife wanted to change. “Not out of pity, guilt, or obligation, or... something, I just… I don’t know.”

So, how do you bring about change? 

Chaewon didn’t know. It’s not every day you start feeling something for someone you’ve known for so long. A pressure seized her chest the longer time passed, spreading through when she saw Minju’s eyes trailing up. “Is this okay?”

They held the gaze. She nodded. Darkest shades of pink dyed her wife’s cheeks, the tips of her ears. So Minju was the bashful type. “You look… very red.”

Maybe Chaewon was the bashful type too. Minju was taking this don’t hold back if you want to tell me something, okay? thing seriously. The fingers between hers seemed to tremble. She watched as her eyes wandered across her countenance. Their grip slackened briefly and she couldn’t tell who kept it taut. 

“You do too.”

“Will this help, though?” Chaewon raised a brow as she asked. Minju looked away, clearing . “Well, does it feel like it’s helping?”

“I can’t tell.”

“How do you feel?”

Her hand was clammy against her wife’s. But if she pulled away for a moment Minju might take it the wrong way. It wasn’t that bad, and aside from the crushing pressure pressing down on her organs the closer they got, it felt nice. Confusing and complex and vague and intangible. Amidst all that chaos, it felt nice.

“Not so bad...”

She did pull away for a moment. The satin sheets had no warmth, but it was only a moment. “You?”

“I like this.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

)