Shin Hye stood frozen to hear him accept the fact that she was with someone else, she never imagined to have made Yong Hwa fall in love with her.  It was only in dreams where he had ever kissed her and held her the way he did know.  On the inside Shin Hye laughed and smiled with so much joy.  Yong Hwa did love her!

            She gasped to feel him approach her and hold her in a tight warm hug.  His pale face held a smile but she knew, oh how she knew that on the inside he was feeling distraught.

            Truthfully he felt like begging her to stay, to forget whoever had come along to make her forget him.  He fought it as he stared at her with sadden eyes, she on the other hands was speechlessand had no expression on her face.  He chuckled to hide his pain and suddenly had an idea.

            “Could you…finish the painting? I went ahead and got what you needed, if you don’t mind.”

            “Of course,” she replied.

            Sitting down in front of the canvas, she tried to remember her garden the way it used to be.  All she could picture in her head was how it looked now; it was difficult to remember it like it once was.

Every flower and every vine she had worked so hard on was completely gone; it had died with her absence.  Her hand began to shake as she stared at the unfinished canvas, standing she walked towards the window and took a deep breath.

            Yong Hwa was right next to her as soon as she had stood; placing his hand over her shoulder he turned her to face him.

            “Are you alright?” he asked searching her face.

            “I just can’t believe it’s really gone, I poured my heart and soul into that garden,” she whispered.

            “Do not let the memory of it die, bring it to life,” he replied leading her back in front of the canvas.

            Sitting down she closed her eyes and took a lung full of air trying her best to remember the rich greenness it had once held.  Picturing the color of the water that flowed from the peak of the fountain brought a refreshing memory to Shin Hye of it all.  Lifting her brush she began to paint the rest of the canvas as a smile grew at each corner of her lips.

            Yong Hwa stood behind her watching her work, pretending to be a ghost in the background.  He saw how she got lost as she painted, her mind somewhere else imagining herself actually in her place of solitary.  Yong Hwa thought about how her garden had actually died not nearly a week ago.  He saw how the roses began to wither and die how the grass lost its green and the water turn to goo.  He had tried his best to revive it but the garden didn’t respond to anyone’s touch, not even Mr. Kang.

            Then suddenly he felt just like that garden, dead without her touch, when he had kissed her in the study he felt how his inner being came to life once again.  Shin Hye brought to life everything she touched and once she departed from it, it would die without her.  He wondered if the one she courted was feeling what he felt when he had kissed her, and quickly pushed the painful thought away.  He didn’t want to think about her in someone else’s arms.  Especially someone else caressing her soft full lips.

            It took her what seemed like an eternity to finish that painting, but Yong Hwa had cherished every second of it.  She stood and stretched as she observed it.  It was the best one she had ever made.  Lifting it in her hands she turned to face Yong Hwa who stared at her with a longing in his eyes.

            “What do you think?” she asked to break the silence.

            “Beautiful,” he responded, his eyes still lingering on her own.

            Shin Hye felt her face redden and searched his room for a distraction.  She noticed how he had it put in a different arrangement.  The bed was no longer in the center of the room, it was placed against the wall, and it was a lot smaller.  Her guess was that it wasn’t the same one.  The room was spotless, not even dust lay over his furniture, and she stared at the walls and saw the wall paper different as well.  It was as if she were to be in a different room.

            “Here,” she said walking over to him.

            Taking the painting in his hands he carefully walked over to the nail facing his bed and hung the wet painting to dry.

            “It’s really b