Chapter 18: Closer

With fingers clasped, clipboard resting on my knees, legs crossed, I nod and listen to the woman who is near the brink of tears. Her husband sits, looking tired, beside her, a considerable amount of physical and emotional distance between them. He stares down into the carpet.

My eyes flicker to the clock, fifteen minutes left. “I see, Mrs Yoon. You’re feeling alone, as if your husband doesn’t want to be there for you, is that correct?” I ask, despite already knowing the answer.

She sniffles, and nods. “Yes, Miss Hwang, that’s right.”

I nod, scribbling down a note or two onto my clipboard. “And, Mr Yoon, can you respond to your wife’s comments in any way?” I look at him, tilting my head to the side.

He lifts his head, eyes towards me, I gesture for him to go on, and he his lips before sitting up properly.

“Well,” He starts. I ready my pen. “Things at work have just been…rather…up in the air lately, and it’s been stressful.”

I pause, recognising that this conversation seems very familiar. Even the way he worded it was similar. I clench my teeth a little, releasing a breath, suddenly feeling a drop of guilt ripple through my insides. “Mr Yoon, could you please elaborate. Let your wife know how you’re really feeling.” I say, looking between them.

He rubs his hands together, leaning forward a little. “I feel stressed, that’s for certain. And I understand that she cares, but by, you know, grilling me about all this relationship stuff just makes it worse.”

I nod, “Mr Yoon, I want you to turn to your wife, and I want you to take her hands.”

He looks slightly uncertain at first, but goes with it.

“And I want you to look her in the eye, and tell her sincerely how you feel.”

He swallows down. His wife looks expectant.

“Kyungmi-ah,” He starts slowly, forced affection in his tone. “I don’t want you feeling abandoned or alone, and I’m sorry if you do. But I hope you can understand that work has been stressful, and that it isn’t your fault. I do love you an awful lot and I’ll work harder to consider you more.”

Her tears spill and she nods, a contorted smile twisting her lips.

I give them a moment, Mr Yoon turns back to me and Mrs Yoon wipes her tears and sniffles with periodic timing.

“Mrs Yoon, how did it feel to hear that from your husband?” I inquire, looking at her.

She pats her eyes with a crinkled tissue. “It was very moving. He hasn’t been that honest with me in a long time. I wish we could be like this more often.”

“Mr Yoon, do you feel the same?” I ask to which he nods. I scan over my notes before slotting my pen back into my clipboard and lacing my fingers together, looking back to the couple. “After having spoken to you both over the last few sessions, it’s become very apparent to me that there’s a real lack of communication within this relationship. I’m sure you’re aware of it.” I pause for a moment, pursing my lips, before continuing, “Communication is a fundamental thing in any healthy relationship, and that’s something the two of you can work on together.” I look at the clock, time up. “I’m afraid we’ve run out of time. But what I will suggest to the two of you is that every night, or as often as you can, you sit down with each other, no distractions and just talk. Whether it’s about your feelings, how work was, the weather, anything. Just as long as the two of you are communicating. Okay?” 

There’s a murmur of an agreement, and the three of us are then up on our feet. I lead them to the door. “Just try out what I suggested, and we’ll see what changes occur in the next session.” I say. They thank me, more murmurs and after a minute or two, they’re gone, back to their own lives.

I shut my office door and sigh before plopping myself down at my desk. I lean back and stare up to the tiled ceiling, tracing the partitions, knowing that I had been wrong, and knowing how to make it right.

* * *

I’ve been here once before, when Donghae had forgotten some papers at the house so I had to drop them off for him.

I walk through the desks, clutching the bag in my fist, feeling occasional heads turning, and curious eyes looking.

I reach the opposite side of the large room and enter through a glass door. Inside there is one desk, and a few chairs around the edge, more like a waiting room than anything else. I stand in front of the desk, and a young, scrawny looking boy with thick-rimmed glasses looks up at me.

I give him a polite smile. “I’m here to see Mr Lee, is he around?”

He surveys me. “Do you have an appointment?”

“Uhm…no, but-“

“Then I’m sorry, I can’t let you see him-“

“I understand but-“

“You can make an appointment down at the front desk, but unless you do that I can’t let you see him. Mr Lee is a very busy man and he can’t have people wasting his time.”

I grit my teeth for a moment before smiling at him in the upmost polite of ways. I look at his desk and spot his name plaque. “I get where you’re coming from, Steven. But I’m Mr Lee’s girlfriend and I really need to see him.”

He squints up at me. “You’re Tiffany?”

“Yes, that’s me.” My grip relaxes.

He suddenly looks a little embarrassed. “I apologise, Miss Hwang. I think Mr Lee is still on a phone call. But I’m sure he won’t mind if you just go on in.”

“Okay, thank you.” I bow slightly before moving past the desk and to the door leading into Donghae’s office.

I push the door open and slowly step in and see him standing behind his desk, phone to his ear, back facing me as he looks out the large glass windows towering over Seoul.

I knock on the door and he turns around, eyebrows lifting when our eyes meet.

“Right, right okay.” He puffs out his cheeks and runs his fingers through his hair. “That’s fine.” He signals for me to come in. “Okay, well, tell him that I have to reschedule for later today.” He says into the phone.

I stand in front of his desk, watching him quietly as he avoids my eyes, as his hand tightens around the phone, as his lips move as he speaks and as the light comes in and leaves its blotches on him.

“Okay, thank you. Sorry for the inconvenience.” He puts the phone on the hook with a clack and looks at me, a strange sort of smile on his mouth as he sits and leans back in his chair. “Well, this is a first. What brings you here?”

I hold up the bag in my hand. “I thought we could have lunch together.”

He shakes his head, leans his elbows on his desk and gazes at me with knowing eyes. “Nope, I don’t believe that for a second.” I raise my brows up at him. “Yes, you may have brought lunch. But that’s not why you’re really here, right?”

I sigh and lower my eyes. “Do you really have to make this harder for me?”

He leans back in his chair and observes me for a moment, probably deciding how to respond. There’s part of him that wants to reply with a sarcastic remark, something to really put his point across, but there’s another part, the part that is solely Donghae, that wants to make up and resolve things. And I know these parts of Donghae because…well…how could I not?  

He sighs. “Pull up a chair.”

I smile, handing him the bag before rolling around a chair to his side of the desk.

I sit as he rummages through the bag. “I made your favourites.” I say.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Nope.”

He pulls out a container, opens it and hands me half a tuna sandwich. We eat in waiting silence.

Seoul to my right, Donghae before me, and feelings between us.

There’s a lot that I like about this moment. I like the view. I like the feeling of the light against my shoulder. I like that I’m finally about to sort things out. And I like Donghae. No, I love Donghae. I do love Donghae. I love his gentle voice and I love his brown eyes. I love how he cares and I love that smile that splits his face in two. I love majority of the pieces, and in time, I will love them all.

“This is a good sandwich.” He comments, just for the sake of talking.

“It is.” I agree, swallowing down.

He puts the last piece in his mouth and sits back. I look down at my own sandwich, realising that I’ve only taken two bites and that I don’t have much an appetite anymore. I set it aside, brushing the crumbs off my fingers.

His eyes have been on me the whole time, and I finally meet them.

I breathe. “I’m sorry…” My voice comes out more quiet than I had expected. “I’m sorry for bringing Taeyeon to dinner last night…I’m really sorry for neglecting your feelings and I’m sorry for not being there for you. I’m sorry for everything.”

He stares at me for what seems like forever, his expression not particularly portraying anything. The feeling of his gaze slips around me in an almost suffocating manner, and I’ll give anything for him to just hold me, because I hate the tension, I hate everything that we’ve become in passed few months.

A sudden soft smile comes to his lips, not touching his tired eyes in the slightest. “I accept your apology.” He opens his arms. “Come here.”

With upturned lips, I move and sit on his lap and wrap my arms around his neck, the buildings towering high.

“Thank you.” I murmur softly.

“It’s okay.” He says, arms around me, and there’s less weight pressing and it feels as though things push back into balance again.

I pull away, fingers against the line of his jaw, and kiss him with care. “I never want to fight like this again.” I say, when lips disconnect and foreheads touch.

“Me either.” He says, eyes shining and sincere. I run my fingers through his hair and breathe in relief.

The chair swings softly, the city before us behind the glass of the window, high and grey and strangely beautiful.

His fingers come through mine, my head rests on his shoulder and it feels right.

“Tiffany,” He says after a moment.

“Yeah?”

“I was just wondering…what makes Taeyeon so special?” I lift my head and look at him. He smiles a little. “And give me a real answer this time. None of that wishy-washy crap.”

I exhale through my nose and think for a moment. “Well…sometimes…”I look down at the streets, squeeze my fingers against his. “When you meet a kid for the first time, you only see a sad story. But when I met Taeyeon, I knew there was definitely a sad story, but there was something more as well.” I purse my lips together and look to the skyscrapers for inspiration. “It’s like…I know that there’s something more to her. She’s not just some kid with a sad story. She’s really talented. Like, if you saw her drawings, Donghae, then you’d see what I mean.” I look back to him, and he returns my gaze with curious eyes.

I get the feeling that I’m not explaining things very well, so I try again.

“It’s like…sometimes you meet people and you just know that they’re special. I think Taeyeon is one of those people. She has so much potential, she’s so smart and I just want so badly for her to be successful and happy. It’s not very often that I see that in the kids I meet. And…maybe…that’s why she’s so important to me.” Maybe.

He nods, seeming to understand. “She’s very quiet.”

“She is,” I agree. “But I know she has a lot to say. She observes, almost like testing the waters. She’s been hurt, a lot, I think. She cautious about who she trusts.”

He tilts his head to the side and smiles at me.

“What?” I say, amused by his face and his smile.

“Nothing. I just like hearing how passionate you get about your work. I think Taeyeon is very lucky to be in your care, Miss Hwang.”

A breathy chuckle exits from my lips. “Why, thank you, Mr Lee.”

With things tipping back into the right places, and my thoughts of Taeyeon still within the air, Donghae and I mend a broken bridge.

* * *

The door opens, and when our eyes, she smiles that friendly old smile.

“Oh, Tiffany-shi. Come on in.” She says, stepping back and opening the door fully. “Taeyeon’s up in her room as usual, just go on up.” There’s the sound of children’s chatter and young voices and laughter. “Come on, you two, cut it out.” She rushes off into the living room, leaving me in the doorway.

I step into the orphanage and close the door behind me. I look into the living room, and see Sooyoung prying two laughing boys apart. I stand and watch, waiting.

“That’s enough,” She says. “You two, upstairs.”

The two boys scamper past me and up the stairs, still giggling about one thing or another.

I take a few steps forward, placing my hands on the back of the couch. “I actually wanted to speak to you, Sooyoung-shi.”

“Oh,” She looks up, toys in her hands. “In that case, take a seat.”

I smile b