I leaned back, my tailbone against the edge of the counter. Crossing my arms, I fought back the urge to rub my eyes and yawn. I know I should’ve expected exhausting days and sleepless nights the moment I entered med school and passed the licensure exam. But with my work piling up and a sick wife to match, it was better for me to adapt, since this was bound to get worse as time passes. Not that I was complaining. 

The bedroom door creaking open overpowered the sound of the sizzling pan and bubbling from the coffee pot. “I slept in. I’m sorry,” Jihyuk greeted, approaching to kiss me on the cheek. She winced as her lips brushed against the growing stubble on my face. She stared at me for a moment, and I waited for what she was about to say. Her eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully, “You’re spent,” she said.

“I know,” I replied. And I took in her tousled hair, tangled and unbrushed, before walking away to tend to the fried eggs cooking on the pan. 

Before I could take a step, however, she went in my way. “Let me do it,” she said, more like an order rather than a request. She held her hand out, palm open, waiting for the wooden spatula. When I ignored her, “Come on. You never even let me do anything anymore,” Jihyuk said, and smiled when I finally gave in. Then she turned her back against me. “Will you set the table, please? Food will be ready in fifteen.”

Without another word, I obliged and sat down by the dining table. There was no point in arguing now. It wasn’t like she would have listened to me anyway. When she arrived, “You should go to your parents’ today,” I announced.

She sat across me as usual and began eating. “What for? Is something going on?”

“Do you always need to have a reason before doing anything? Can’t you just visit them for no reason?” I asked, tone slightly higher than usual. I cleared my throat. “You haven’t seen them in weeks, that’s why. And you haven’t been outside for a few days. Maybe some fresh air will do you good. Maybe help out a bit at the restaurant.”

From the corner of my vision, I watched her think about it. Jihyuk pondered over the idea for a while. Then, she nodded, without any argument. And that surprised me.

After showering and getting dressed, I sat by the couch and watched some cable television while waiting for her. Once in a while, I would glance through the small crack by the bathroom door then avert my gaze back towards the TV.  When she exited, she was wearing a shirt and jeans – a safe choice. No buttons to miss, no awkward ped zippers.

We left without saying anything. I just grabbed the keys and then she followed out the door like a little kid that could get lost easily. It was like she was feeding on me now, like she was nothing without me. And perhaps I could say that. I was her memory, and I was the rest of her, too.

As I drove the car out of the parking garage and into the streets, I winced as the blazing light almost blinded me. But Jihyuk kept her eyes wide and open all throughout the temporary blindness. When the car rolled out through trees that covered the light, that was the only time she closed her eyes, relishing the remaining heat behind her eyelids.  

“Can I open the window?” she asked softly. Then she wasted no time in rolling the window down, inhaling deeply the cool air and holding it in her lungs. She stuck her head out of the window and let her hair fly briskly together with the wind, dancing in the open air. The seat belt strained against her torso. She kept her gaze ahead, never minding the road behind us. And then she began humming. With her eyes closed and her hair tangled and flying behind her, she hummed.

“Maybe you should stay there for the night,” I said. “Or for the meantime if you want.”

I glanced at her. She was still humming.

“If you’re worried about them knowing your Alzheimer’s, you would have to tell them the truth, okay?” I continued, keeping my calm. “You should visit Sunmi soon, too. She’s kind of worrying by now – not to mention, wondering.” I glanced at her, still in the state of ignoring me. “Should I bring you there tomorrow?”

“And all that I loved,” Jihyuk sang, finally adding lyrics to her humming. “I loved alone.*”

I sighed. “Are you listening to me?”

“And all that I loved, I loved alone.*”

I swerved by a curve and hit on the brakes. “Are you kidding me right now? I’m talking and you’re not even listening?” I yelled, feeling all the anger bubbling up to the surface.

Jihyuk sat back down properly on the passenger seat and combed her hair with her fingers. “Don’t tell them anything,” she said. “I’ll try my best for them not to notice.”

With my hands on the steering wheel, I blinked back at her and, thinking she was joking, let out a sarcastic laugh. “Do you really think you can fool them?” I asked. “God damn it, Jihyuk! First, you don’t listen to me, and then you think I would go with your stupid idea? How can you be so foolish?”

She shook her head. “You don’t get it.”

“What? What don’t I get? Don’t I get the fact that it’s selfish and stupid for you to think you can keep your Alzheimer’s a secret. You couldn’t keep it from me, what more from your parents? What is wrong with you?”

“You don’t understand,” she was yelling now. “You don’t know what it’s like to forget. You don’t know how I feel whenever I feel so dumb and useless when I’m sitting at home alone because I couldn’t keep a decent job or count backwards or wear my clothes properly. You don’t understand how I feel whenever you look at me and you pity me so much.”

“Pity, huh,” I huffed and looked out the window. I was fuming, but I had to keep my hands on the steering wheel and not even think of lifting a finger. “What about me? Don’t you pity me? Don’t you feel sorry for me whenever I come home at midnight to a sink overflowing with plates or the stove left on. It’s as if I work at the hospital and I work at home too. The only difference is that you don’t have to pay me for it.”

“If you’re getting tired of it, then don’t look after me.” Tears tricking down her cheeks, she wiped them away with the back of her hand and looked away. “I didn’t tell you to. I can take care of myself.”

I, too, looked away. “Then don’t. Maybe I’ll even get some sleep tonight without you there.”

She looked at me, eyes filled with tears and everything that tantamount to anger. But more than that, I actually think I saw something in her eyes too – shame and sorrow – all covered by a cloud of her insecurities. And I wanted to say sorry, maybe apologizing would make the dark haze disappear. I couldn’t have said it, anyhow, because by the time I wanted to take back what I said, the passenger door already slammed close.

***

“Alzheimer’s.”

“What?” Her father asked. I understood he didn’t want me to repeat the word again. He just couldn’t believe his ears. Her mother was already in tears as she gripped onto the hems of the apron she was wearing. How I hated having to tell them this… “Does your brother know about this? I mean, he’s a psychiatrist, right?”

I nodded, and recalled how Jihyuk never thought twice about how I told her that Donghwa was a psychologist, not a psychiatrist. If I had told her to go to a psychiatrist, her suspicions of her being crazy would have been worse. “He was the one who told Jihyuk. I thought he had been joking back then, but…”

“How could you not tell us?” Her mother said while sobbing. “She would have forgotten us and we wouldn’t have known. What were you waiting for, huh?”

My head hung low, I couldn’t look at them. I couldn’t bear to see the sorrow in their eyes. I could have possibly handled it better if they had been strangers waiting outside the emergency room of the hospital. I could have directly spat out the truth in their face that their child couldn’t make it out of the operating room or their grandfather wasn’t going to last a year. But these were Jihyuk’s parents, and the closest thing I could ever get to a family too.

“She didn’t want me to tell you. She didn’t want me to tell Sunmi, either.”

“Do you know how much worse this could get?” Her father said, standing up and pacing around the living room. And I watched him, admiring his strength and how well he could control his emotions. His voice was well-modulated, well-controlled for someone who just knew that her daughter had Alzheimer’s. He was careful not to shout, no matter how much it shows that he wants to. Jihyuk was still fast asleep in her old bedroom.

It couldn’t get any worse than this, I wanted to say. She’s starting to forget me. That’s the worst. Just the thought of it made my heart sink underground.

Eyes still glued to my lap, “I know. It was my fault for not telling you. I’m sorry. I just did what she wanted me to. I didn’t want to upset her,” I explained. “But it turned out that it was selfish, and that it upset you. I’m sorry.” And I could have fallen to my knees on the spot if needed.

But Jihyuk’s father was too preoccupied in his own thoughts to even notice me. I felt tears in my eyes as I watched him, like he wanted to slap himself awake from this nightmare. “It was my sister,” he said suddenly. The old woman sitting across me only cried harder. “She…she had Alzheimer’s too. It was pitiful, the situation was. We thought it was just the normal forgetfulness that came with her age, but…” He shook his head.

“Maybe…” Jihyuk’s mother started, nervously glancing at her husband. “Maybe we should…”

I see the sorrow in their eyes and the realization flickering between them like a visible wave. “No,” I said firmly. “You can’t take her away from me.”

“You don’t know how much she will hurt you in the long run—“ she countered.

The tears that had pooled in my eyes now trickled slowly. Drop by drop. “Am I not hurting right now?” I said, voice cracking. “I saw the look in her eyes the moment I walked in through those doors.” I recalled when I arrived at the restaurant to see Jihyuk and apologize. “She asked for my order. She looked at me without recognition and with so much blankness, like I was just another customer. Do you think I’m not hurting?”

“Leave her to us,” her father now stated. “We know how much you love her, but it’d be better if you just leave her under our care.”

“No, I can’t,” I protested, wishing my respect and courteousness for them were still intact. “I’m sorry   but she’s mine. I’ll take care of her. I’ll look after her like what I did for the past months.” I advanced to the bedroom in long strides and took Jihyuk in my arms. She was still deep in slumber as I bowed down to her parents as respect before leaving.

I realized it was almost midnight at that time as I brought her to the car and laid her down on the passenger seat. Kissing her forehead, I shut the door close and walked to the driver’s seat. I strapped the seatbelt on mine and hers before starting to drive along the road towards our home. She might be a problem, but she was my problem. And that was that.  

***

*Alone - Edgar Allan Poe