At age 13, she suffers her first heartache

“Hyo yeon ah! Come inside quickly,” her mother shouts from the front gate as the two are walking back home from school.
She meets his questioning eyes and gives a shrug, “Maybe she found out about my Korean grades. Call you later if I’m not grounded!” and runs towards her house.


He looks out his window wondering why she still hasn’t called. He has a strange uneasy feeling that he can’t quite explain – the lights in her house are off but it’s only 10 p.m. The Kims don’t usually go to bed until midnight. 
You can just talk to her in the morning, he tells himself and gets ready for bed. But after lying there for an hour and still unable to shake off that bad feeling he gets up. 

He picks up some pebbles and aims them at her window. After the third attempt, it opens and he is surprised to see her. Even in the dim moonlight, he can see that her eyes are puffy and red-like she’s been crying.
“Can I come up?” he asks and she nods.
He climbs the ladder on the side of her house and clambers into her room. She is looking at the ground, her lips quivering.
“Is everything okay, Hyo?” he asks gently.
She shakes her head. “It’s my parents. They are getting d-d-divorced. My dad is leaving us.”  Tears are now flowing rapidly down her face.
He instantly pulls her to him and hugs her as close as possible, wishing and hoping that he could take her pain and heartache unto himself. 
“Shh.. don’t cry,” he tells her in a soothing voice. “It will be ok. I am here.” 
She can’t explain why but she believes him and gradually her sobs subside.



“Try to get some sleep.” he coaxes and she follows quietly. As he tucks her into bed and gets up, she panics and grabs his hand, “Don’t leave me, please.”
He smiles at her, “I’m just going to get a chair.” She watches him walk out towards the living room afraid that he too might suddenly abandon her. But thankfully, he is back a minute later and at her side. Sensing the fear in her eyes, he promises, “I will always be here for you. Always.”



The day her father comes to pick up his things, he sits next to her on the porch, his hand never leaving hers. For the first time in his life, he has remembered to carry a handkerchief – the softest cleanest one he could find – and dabs her eyes gently with it. 
Giving her hand a tight squeeze he whispers, “We’ll get through everything together.”