and so it goes on - cookiecamellia - 작은 아씨들 (2024)

Chapter 1: the one where injoo faces bitter truths

Chapter Text

When InJoo had gotten InHye’s message and the bank deposit and she was filled and stretched with emotion. Finding the moving vehicle suffocating, she had stumbled off the bus in shock and collapsed onto a park bench, feeling relieved that her sister and HyoRin were alive and well. And then anger sharply cut through, anger at InHye for disappearing with good-bye scribbled like an afterthought on a stupid little scrap paper and then depositing a sum of money in her bank account like some sort of bullsh*t thank-you after days of no contact. InJoo called InHye, but she hadn’t picked up. It seemed that InHye had utilized the block feature yet again, how nice of her. She had tried again five more times before giving up and calling InKyung.

They appreciated the gift, it was a lot after all. It covered their great aunt’s liabilities, their parents’ debts, the new apartment’s gift tax and they still had more than enough to cover In Kyung’s study abroad. How could InHye not understand that she never had to pay them back? That they would have been beyond happy if she had come home safe and whole, or at the very least called them at least once?

“So, I have some friends who can track down the location from the text, what do you think?”

InJoo bit her nail thoughtfully and stared out at the little kids playing in the park. Their initial discussion had helped calm her. Sighing, she resignedly replied, “Maybe we should let them be.”

“What?! Are you serious?”

InJoo winced and instinctively admonished her sister, “Don’t yell into the phone, you already have a naturally loud voice, are you trying to puncture my eardrums? It’s not that I don’t want her back -- but she and HyoRin have enough funds to cover their expenses abroad and she sounded happy, I don’t want to drag her away from her dreams. Now that we know she can contact us, I can breathe a little bit.”

“I still don’t know if I want to kill her or hug her.”

“I want to hug her so hard; she suffocates to death.”

InKyung huffed a laugh at the morbid joke, and hearing it made InJoo miss her even more. She said, “I think we should give her space and let her come back. I know she will, she likes to act so tough but remember that time she went to summer art camp for twelve weeks?”

“Ohhh yeah, she called us after two weeks saying she missed us so much. She sounded so snotty too.”

“Exactly.”

“But she was like thirteen.”

“She’s going to call again, I am sure of it. And we can slowly work up to weekly calls and then daily texts maybe even video calls!”

“You sound so hopeful.”

“Don’t you know me at all?”

“My bad for forgetting.” She could hear InKyung’s smile. “What are you going to do with the leftover gift?”

InJoo paused at that. She was reminded of a conversation with HwaYoung that happened not long ago but feels like a lifetime ago. The InJoo from before would have answered she would buy an apartment with white walls and large windows. In her message, InHye wanted her to buy an apartment too, but honestly InJoo feels one is enough for her. It seemed like she alone would be living in it for now. She was not sure if her parents would ever return, they seemed content to live in Thailand based on their messages in the family group chat.

Her other wishes included small luxuries of face creams and dresses and expensive winter wear. But those only amounted to a small percentage of her current the wealth.

“I am not sure. I am thinking I will probably wire some to our parents –“

“Are you insane? After everything they put us through!”

“InKyung I swear I am going to hang up on you if you don’t stop yelling. They want to travel the world and I don’t want them to get trapped up in some scam because they don’t have enough money.”

In Kyung grunted in reluctant agreement. “And then?”

“And then…. And then I will book an appointment with an advisor to plan how to invest it all.”

“Wow. I am so proud. This is rational thinking, I didn’t expect that from you.”

“Shut up,” InJoo said smiling.

“Things could get suspicious, they could start asking questions about where and how you got this much money. I will refer you to an advisor from Great Aunt’s network, they have experience with discretion and confidentiality.”

“Thanks.” She was working on improving her financial literacy beyond what she learned in her two year accounting course, but she still had a long way to go. “What are you going to do with your remaining gift?”

She could hear InKyung hesitate. “Well,” she shyly started, “JungHo and I are already sharing an apartment so I guess I don’t have to worry about living expenses anymore.”

“Uh huh,” InJoo restrained her urge to poke and tease InKyung’s new relationship.

“Shut up. And I have more than enough to cover my tuition.”

“That’s true.”

“I am not sure beyond that, actually. I think I will donate some of it though. How do you think InHye and HyoRin were able to get the cash? And transfer it to us? Do you think maybe it was Mr.Choi? ”

“Mr.Choi was the one who had transferred out the seventy billion to a Panama account,” InJoo mused. No wonder that he looked amused when she said she did not have seventy billion anymore. This underhanded plan reeked of him flaunting his crafty thinking. She was torn between being amused and annoyed that he conspired with her sister and her friend. “Do you think that this might get investigated?”

“He’s so shady and cunning--”

InJoo let out a short unintended laugh.

“—I am sure he found a way to make the transaction legal. And he didn’t say anything about it you?”

“No he didn’t.” And because she could feel InKyung’s rightful disapproval of him through the phone, she added, “He helped us a lot.”

“Sure. But it would’ve been nice to know he met InHye and HyoRin and that he knew they were safe.”

InJoo agreed with that. But if he told her, it wouldn’t be his signature mysterious style, would it? It seemed like he always enjoyed leaving her in the dark.

“Can you contact him?”

“No”, she said. “He planned to live without his email and phone for a while.”

“Wierdo.”

“He said he doesn’t want to get dragged back into business for a while.”

“It sounds like he’s not entirely quitting his money laundering career.”

“I’m not sure, maybe he’s thinking of a career change.”

InJoo could hear InKyung pause before she asked, “You don’t have any feelings for him, right? You seemed kind of worried about him before when you were stuck in prison.”

InJoo didn’t know how to answer that. She knew she felt reluctant attraction and fondness for Mr.Choi, but she didn’t know what he felt for her. He had always been shrouded in an annoying cloud of mystery and sexiness. She cringed slightly at her own thoughts; she sounded like a confused teenage girl navigating sexual attraction for the first time. Sometimes he said or did things that went beyond what business associates would do for each other. But he had also never said he thought of her as anything beyond conspiring business partners. Thinking that he wanted to keep their relationship to just that, InJoo’s rational brain had taken the romantic feelings she had nurtured and stuffed them into a box labeled “never happening” and pushed it to the back of her mind.

Unfortunately, her heart gleefully destroyed her mental box when Mr.Choi came back for her and HwaYoung. So, InJoo did know how to answer her sister’s question. She just did not want to answer it.

InKyung correctly interpreted her silence and started a tirade in her ear, “You need better taste in men! He might have helped us out, but he’s still a ruthless man! We don’t even know what he’s capable of! If he grew up with a messed man like Park JaeSang as a guardian, then who knows what he might have done already—”

“I don’t like him,” a very flustered InJoo interrupted. Her sister was right, of course she was right, but InJoo was a slave to her tyrannical heart. “I just thought of him as friend, that’s all.”

“Hmfph.”

“I don’t have contact with him, but we probably will not see each other again since I am guessing he got his money.”

“Hopefully not.” InJoo secretly hoped the opposite, but she would rather volunteer to chop off her right hand before she admitted that to InKyung.

“I am almost moved into the new apartment,” she desperately tried to change the subject. “I am not sure how to decorate it, and I know you moved out, but I still have your room ready whenever you want to visit home.”

“Thanks! I will visit probably once the semester is over.”

“I am looking forward to it. It’s kind of lonely here, I miss eating ice cream with you. I miss you guys so much.” Damn it, she started tearing up already.

“I miss you very much too,” InKyung said.

“Wait what time is it there? Am I keeping you up, I am so sorry you must have classes and you should get to bed and –”

“It’s alright,” InKyung laughed.

“You still need your rest, we can talk later. Tell your boyfriend I said goodnight!”

“Fine, ok, keep me posted if you find anything about InHye. Stay safe!” InKyung hung up.

InJoo sighed, more relaxed now than she was fifteen minutes before. She looked up the sky to let the sunshine wash over her face, happy that she did not have to take out that monstrous loan.

Two months later

Every Saturday, InJoo visited HwaYoung. She brought her friend her favorite things: latest issues of fashion and business magazines. InJoo updated her about on she her plans for decorating her apartment and the English classes she was finally taking. In return, HwaYoung told her stories about her fellow inmates and her gardening duties.

This weekend’s visitation script went a little differently.

“How are you really?” HwaYoung asked her.

Saying “good” satisfied the question before, so this was unexpected.

“I’m fine.” HwaYoung squinted at her. InJoo insisted, “Really, I’m fine.”

“InJoo do you have friends?” HwaYoung asked her kindly.

InJoo felt her ears burn in embarrassment, she hadn’t expected to be interrogated in this way. “Why do you ask that?”

“Because you’re visiting me every weekend–”

“You make it sound like I visit you too much! It’s not that often!”

“—You should be out meeting other people on the weekends.” HwaYoung finished pretending like she had not heard her.

“I –,” InJoo struggled to find a good excuse. Friendship required going out, which was expensive. Over time she had to regretfully turn down invitations, until all friendships had petered out to acquaintances. She had not felt the need to rekindle the relationships. “I’m fine”, she weakly offered to HwaYoung.

“You should be out living life -”

“I—”

“InJoo, let me finish please,” HwaYoung gave her stern stare. “I appreciate you coming to visit me, I really do. I haven’t been a very good friend to you, and I know you know this too. You love too much InJoo, but I wish you would just forget about me and move on and live your life.”

“I don’t want to forget about you.”

“Visit me every six months.”

“Once every three months,” InJoo countered.

“Fine, and you use your weekends to go out and meet people and tell me about them during your visits. I am getting tired of hearing about your river side apartment.”

“It’s really nice though,” InJoo pouted at her,

“Do you think you will go back to work?”

InJoo was caught off guard again. HwaYoung had clearly come into this visit with a plan, and she was intent on executing it.

“Um, I’m not sure. I didn’t really like the job, I only took it because I was good with numbers, and it paid well. But I don’t need the money right now, so I don’t know,” InJoo trailed off unsure. She sounded like fool, thirty-something and still aimless in life. At least she was rich now.

“You don’t have to take up the same job you know.”

“I don’t know what else I could do, I’m not good at anything else.”

“Just close your eyes and think about what brought you happiness before.”

InJoo was doubtful and it must have showed on her face because HwaYoung said, “Just try it.”

So, she closed her eyes and imagined what would bring her joy. Shopping? No, after a while it started to lose its allure. Her mind searched for the last time she had felt happy, truly happy not relieved because her sisters were alive and well. And ah! A dusty memory rose up: when she first taught InHye multiplication. When she finally got it, she had given InJoo a proud smile that had two missing front teeth, “I got it!”

“Kids”, InJoo said with a fond smile.

“Perv.”

“Not like that! You gross sicko, I meant that ---”

“I know what you meant,” HwaYoung laughed. “I just wanted to annoy you.”

“Whatever. I just remembered when I would help InHye with her schoolwork. I felt happy when grew confident about her abilities.”

“Maybe you should do that.”

“I’m not sure, isn’t it too late for me to be a teacher?”

“You don’t have to be a teacher. I am just saying you have time and money to try things that bring you joy.”

“Yeah I guess that’s true.” InJoo worried about looking out for family for so long, it never even crossed her mind that maybe she can afford to look out for herself now too. She could afford to indulge in beyond small material luxuries. “I will do that.”

“Good. I expect updates on that too.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Kinky.”

InJoo wrinkled her nose, “Prison has made you weirder.”

“Or you are too easy to tease. Let’s talk about the thing that you have avoided talking about for the past months.” The sudden gleam in HwaYoung’s eyes made InJoo nervous. “Choi DoIl.”

“I have nothing to say about him.” InJoo said defensively.

“Interesting.”

“Really! We were business partners, and now we aren’t. We said our goodbyes, I am not sure we will ever see each other again.”

“Interesting,” HwaYoung said again.

“I have nothing to say.”

“Do you have feelings for him?”

InJoo felt a sense of déjà vu. She replied, “no.” HwaYoung smirked, maybe she responded too quickly.

“If you have no feelings for him, how come you haven’t gone on a date with a man?”

“Maybe I am just not looking for a man right now. I have everything I need.”

HwaYoung snorted, “I don’t believe you, this coming from a woman who once told me and I quote, ‘I have always been obsessed with money and men’.”

She felt annoyed that HwaYoung made her sound shallow, but it did sound like something she might have said.

HwaYoung gave her kind smile, “It’s alright to have feelings for him you know. He is good looking.”

“I know it’s alright to have feelings,” InJoo waspishly replied. “I just don’t have feelings for him.”

Hwayoung’s silence stretched through the glass divider and surrounded InJoo shoulders in a consoling hug. It seemed to say, you are not a good liar so please give up.

“I just,” she squirmed in her seat as if to move out of the silence’s hold. “I liked him before, but I don’t think he thought of me the same way. I think, for him, I was always an obstacle blocking his cash. He never really said anything about feeling any romantic way about me. And now he’s gone. So, I can’t have any feelings for someone who is gone.” She felt a little pathetic after hearing herself.

“Is that all?”

“I visit his mom sometimes. And his dad.”

“He should be doing those things.”

“He might be! I don’t know that he’s not visiting. I like talking with them. Mr.Choi is funny and always gives me self-defense tips. And Ms. Ahn is really nice, she and I knit together. Sometimes we even bake--”

“InJoo, you know you are not their daughter-in-law, right?”

InJoo chose to ignore that statement.

Her friend sighed exasperatedly, “You should move on from him. He’s just some guy you knew for a few weeks. There are so many men who are handsome, even better looking than him. You deserve someone who is kind and supportive of you.”

“Alright,” InJoo said, her throat suddenly tight with love for HwaYoung. “I hope that you meet someone kind too.”

“Maybe I have,” HwaYoung smirked at her. “There are a lot attractive women here.”

InJoo let out a surprised laugh. She’s not surprised that HwaYoung was hooking up with women, she is surprised that her friend has a more exciting life than her in prison. “I am glad you are having the time of your life. In prison.”

“You know what they say, you only live once!”

One or two Saturdays out of the month, she visited Mr.Choi’s father in prison. Sometimes her Saturdays would just be prison visits. She saw HwaYoung in the morning, then she visited Mr.Choi after lunch. He had unfortunately earned several years in prison for illegal possession of weapons and other military equipment. InJoo wondered if she knew too many people in prison. It was not many, only two people, but two was still more than the estimated average of zero.

“Ms.Oh, how is the security in your new apartment building?”

“I am not sure, uh it’s alright? I guess?”

“Is there a security guard?”

“Yes.”

“Hm. And your door?”

“Standard key code.”

“Do you have dogs?”

“No.”

“Would you ever consider getting dogs?”

“I think I am a fish person.” He looked so disappointed, she almost backtracked to change her answer. Almost.

“Hm. Ms. Oh have you changed your mind about having a pistol?”

“Respectfully, I do not want to carry a firearm on me.”

“They have small ones for petite ladies like you,” Mr.Choi assured her. “They even come in different colors!”

“I don’t even know how to shoot one, it doesn’t seem responsible for me to carry a weapon I wouldn’t even know how to use.” When she had pointed the pistol at SangAh, she had been internally praying to every deity she could think of to bless with the ability to shoot straight. His son had merely given her the gun, he hadn’t shown her how to use it.

“It’s very easy! You just –”

“Mr.Choi could you tell me about gooseneck wrist lock? I am still a little confused about it,” InJoo quickly cut in before he could steamroll her with arguments about getting a gun. Or a guard dog.

“Of course,” he said gravely. “It is a simple but very tricky move….”

While Mr.Choi explained the maneuver, InJoo tried to figure out how subtly bring up the topic of his son. HwaYoung’s visit gave her many ideas, one of which made her wonder if Mr.Choi visited his parents at all.

Neither of his parents talked about him except for the first time she had visited each of them. The elder Mr.Choi told her that he and his son had parted on cold terms. Mrs.Ahn told her kindly that Mr.Choi did not live with her, he had only set her up in a countryside house with staff and a good hospital for her cancer treatment. But it had been several months since he had left Korea, and surely, he would have come back to see them at least once.

“…and that is how you can incapacitate your enemy. It is easily in my top ten favorite moves.”

“Ah.”

He regarded her curiously for a moment, “Ms.Oh you should just ask your question.”

Either she was incredibly easy to read, or he was incredibly good at reading people. “I was just ah, I was just wondering if Mr.Choi -- your son—came to visit?” Ah, well, subtility was never her strongest suit.

He looked like she had confirmed his suspicions on what she was going to ask. “No, he has not visited.”

She sympathized with him, but she also understood why his son didn’t visit. She might give her father money, she did not want to meet him in person.

“You know Ms.Oh, I love my son very much, but I think he would not make a good partner for you.”

“What?” InJoo refused to believe she was this easy to read.

“I understand that there might have been something between you –”

Mortified that Mr.Choi’s father had thought about the two of them together in a romantic way, she tried to deny, “Mr.Choi, your son and I only shared a business --“

“I know people Ms.Oh. I might have spent a few decades holed up by myself, but I am trained to read people as easily as one reads a weapons catalogue.”

How many people actually read weapons catalogues, InJoo thought hysterically.

“I could sense some affection between the two of you, there was an energy—”

InJoo wished the ground would just open and consume her whole. She regretted bringing this topic up at all.

“—My son would not have asked for me to look after you if you weren’t important to him. And you were worried for him as well.”

“We only cared about each other because there was seventy billion involved.” InJoo resolutely ignored her inner romantic fool yelling she cared about Mr. Choi even without the money.

“Nevertheless, I know what kind of man my son is, and I know what kind of person you are.”

“What kind of person am I?”

“You want to build a family and to grow old with someone. I am not saying those things are wrong to want, but I am not sure that a man who has spent his life exploiting others and taking up questionable projects in the name of money wants those things too.”

An urge built within InJoo to defend his son’s honor, but she kept quiet. He could have chosen a more direct path of dealing with her. He hadn’t though, is the thing.

“Ms.Oh InJoo, I know we have not known each for very long, but I just want the best for you.”

“Mr.Choi I think you are supposed say that I am not good enough for your son.”

“That is not true, it is not that you are not good enough for each other. You are not right for each other.”

She clenched her jaw and gave a small reluctant downward tilt of her chin to let him know she had heard him.

Mr.Choi gave a her a comforting look. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, then looked beyond the top of her head before opening his mouth once more, “Ms.Oh InJoo, I want you know that if I ever had a daughter,” he took a moment to pause to gather what he wanted to say. A furrow grew between his eyebrows, and he looked back at her sincerely, “If I ever had a daughter, I would be honored to have one as warmhearted as you.”

InJoo blinked up him at his sudden and stiff admission. She could see that it had taken effort for him to be vulnerable, and she appreciated it. It sounded so nice, that for once someone chose her because of who she was as a person. Not because she was their sister. Not because she was convenient. Not because she was worth seventy billion.

Swallowing the lump in the throat she replied, “I know that you think you aren’t a good father, but I would be honored to have a father like you, a father who put his family first.”

They shared a shaky laugh. Then Mr.Choi reproachfully said, “Please do think about getting a pistol, I can refer you to a vendor I trust.”

Mrs.Ahn lived in a cute cottage near the sea, it was about three-hour drive from Seoul. InJoo could drive, but she preferred taking the bus since she was on probation and wanted to avoid the risk of breaking traffic laws.

The housekeeper who also worked as Mrs.Ahn’s nurse greeted her with a smile at the door. “Ah! Ms.Oh InJoo!”

“Hi Mrs.Kim! I brought the sweets you liked from the last visit,” InJoo said giving her the pastry box.

“They smell so good! Come in, come in, Mrs.Ahn is on the balcony enjoying the fresh air.”

InJoo walked through the cozy house to the balcony, finding her sitting with a blanket over her knees and looking out at the beach. “It’s such a nice day isn’t it,” she greeted Mrs.Ahn with a smile.

“Ms.Oh! How have you been?”

“I’m alright. How are you?”

“Same as always,” Mrs.Ahn shrugged. “And how is my husband?”

InJoo visited Mrs.Ahn every weekend on Sundays, so some weekends she would see Mr.Choi on Saturday and then see Mrs.Ahn the next day. Her weekends were busy, but she liked them busy. A voice that sounded like HwaYoung hissed that her weekends should contain a different kind of busy. She batted the voice away before giving Mrs.Ahn a nervous smile, “he is fine. He wants me to get a pistol and a guard dog.”

Mrs.Ahn scoffed, “So paranoid, honestly. Your apartment is in such a posh neighborhood, I am sure the security is extensive.”

“I don’t think Mr.Choi could entrust security with anyone except himself.”

Mrs.Ahn rolled her eyes. Mrs.Ahn and Mr.Choi, as far as she knew, hadn’t talked face to face. She had gotten into the habit of giving them updates of each other. The romantic in her wondered if Mrs.Ahn ever wrote letters to the elder Mr.Choi, but InJoo doubted it. Mrs.Ahn was understandably angry at her husband for running away from their family. InJoo sympathized with both of them. It was unfortunate that their love for their son put him right into the hands of the cult they tried to escape from.

“I brought you wool yarn in the color you were talking about last time,” InJoo told her while handing her the spool from her bag.

“You shouldn’t have! But I am so glad that you did! Look at how vibrant this color is, the dye must high quality,” Mrs.Ahn gushed. The color is a refreshing and calming deep green. “I also must show you the new crochet patterns I ordered. I will teach you how to do them!”

“Mrs.Ahn, I’m already hopeless at knitting, are you sure I can handle crochet?”

“I thought it might be fun to watch you struggle with it.”

“I find your confidence in my abilities reassuring,” InJoo told her drily. Mrs.Ahn only gave her a serene smile. Sometimes, InJoo thought Mr. Choi inherited his infuriating smirk from his mother.

Mrs.Ahn was incredibly talented at knitting and crocheting. Over the course of her visits, InJoo was gifted two hats, a set of mittens and several crocheted doilies. InJoo was incredibly bad at knitting, whenever she tried her hand at a project it always ended up looking strangely distorted and horrific. Mrs.Ahn enjoyed laughing at her attempts, and InJoo enjoyed making her laugh so she kept trying.

For a while they both breathed in the fresh breeze in companionable silence. InJoo was once again struck by the urge to ask if her son had contacted her. It was like a scab, she knew she shouldn’t pick at it, but it itched. She couldn’t help but fidget as she debated whether to suffer or to not suffer.

“Just say what you want to say Ms.Oh, your anxiousness is ruining the scenery.”

InJoo chose to suffer. Sheepishly, she asked, “Has Mr.Choi contacted you? Or visited?”

“He has his ways of letting me know that he is alive. But no, he has neither called me nor visited me.”

“His ways” made InJoo think of secret messages being passed to Mrs.Ahn through convoluted ways. A scrap of paper slipped between her morning paper. A radio message interrupting Mrs.Ahn’s nightly drama watch. A nurse slipping her a small note during a hospital visit. He’s so dramatic, why he could just call.

She wondered if he had ever tried to contact her in “his ways”. Maybe he had and maybe she had been too dense to realize it. Except that was not possible, because InJoo picked up every phone call and had been vigilant about looking for any sign of him.

She wanted to pry, to ask about these “ways”, but instead she said, “ah, I see.” InJoo turned to look out at the beach, she could feel Mrs.Ahn looking at her and she stubbornly refused to return her eye contact.

“Ms.Oh when I say this, I want you to understand that it comes from a place of affection for you and from my own experience. I don’t know exactly what relationship you had with my son, but I think it would be good for you to forget about him.”

It seemed that Mrs.Ahn shared her husband’s skill of accurately reading InJoo’s mind. She also unknowingly shared his opinion.

“I—” she started before closing her mouth at the sharp look Mrs.Ahn gave her.

“I love my son. But I also recognize that he is not the right man for you.”

That stupid “rightness” again.

“How do you know that?” InJoo mulishly asked her.

“He has the same restlessness that his father had when I met him.”

“He is not his father.”

“No, he is not,” Mrs.Ahn agreed. “But they both have gotten so used to the thrill of chase and the risk of high-pressure situations. They cannot live a normal life anymore.”

“Mr.Choi only distanced himself to avoid putting the family in danger. He regrets that now,” InJoo defended her friend.

“Good. He should regret it. The orchid society could have been his reason. It could have also been his excuse. For many years before he left us, he seemed unsatisfied with our normal family life,” Mrs.Ahn recalled, briefly lost in a distant memory.

InJoo let the tension drop from her shoulders and looked at her feet resignedly.

“Ms. Oh, you have been so kind to me these past months,” Mrs.Ahn echoed InJoo’s words to her son. “I don’t want you to make the same mistake I did.”

“You must think me a fool,” InJoo laughed self-conscious.

“Nonsense. I think it would be impossible any person in your position to not develop feelings.”

“What if I never find the right person?” InJoo hated how small her voice sounded.

“That,” she said, “is also nonsense. I can set you up with some young men I know. There’s this man, very friendly, he helps out around the town. I think you two would a good match, he goes by Chief Hong, I can pass along his numb-“

“That’s alright, I um – I will think about the other things you said, thanks Mrs.Ahn,” InJoo interrupted.

“You can talk to me anytime Ms.Oh,” she smiled kindly at InJoo. “But let me know if you are interested in that date! Now enough of my son, let’s get crocheting!”

Mrs.Ahn laughed at InJoo’s groan of dismay. And InJoo tried desperately to put him out of her head.

On the Monday after the Weekend Of Bitter Truths Concerning Choi DoIl, InJoo decided she would get her groove back. She did not know how exactly, but her good friend HwaYoung inspired to be better. To treat herself better.

She sent out advertisem*nts for math tutor positions. Keeping busy would be good for her.

After the whole ordeal with Sang Ah and the society, InJoo had been plagued by dreams and the guilt of killing Sang Ah. She had too much time on her hands, and she passively let the climatic moments of that fateful day eat away at her. Then InKyung moved to the U.S. and their home had grown emptier and it was horrible. The ghost of her family constantly followed her throughout the apartment.

Her sisters slowly worked up to having weekly video calls. They also had a group chat with JungHo and HyoRin. InKyung would occasionally post links to interesting articles and pictures of herself with JongHo visiting new restaurants. InHye and HyoRin shared selfies of visits to exhibits and their in-progress artwork.

InJoo wondered how long it would be before JungHo and HyoRin legally became part of their family. She refrained from asking about their relationships, worried that they would retaliate by asking her about her non-existent dating life or worse; accuse her of sounding like their mother.

InJoo sent pictures of the river side apartment and cute stray animals she ran into. Sometimes InHye and HyoRin also sent internet jokes, which in a separate group chat with just the three of them, InKyung, JungHo and InJoo tried their best to decipher so they could appropriately respond in the original chat. InJoo didn’t think she was that old, but every time she received a “meme”, she could feel herself aging five more years. Text messages and video calls were nice, but they weren’t the same as being with them in person.

Funny how memories worked. When she lived with her sisters, everything they did annoyed her. She hated how InKyung left behind notes of her research everywhere. She would curse InHye’s name to hell and back when she had to scrub paint stains out her sister’s sweaters and jeans. Her mother’s voice grated on her nerves after a long day of work. But after living in the quiet home, with only herself for company she would do anything to get those annoyance back into her life.

When the wealth and a new apartment suddenly dropped into her lap, she embraced the distractions. InJoo threw herself into her new responsibilities of moving her family’s belongings to the new apartment and managing her finances. Slowly but surely, Sang Ah’s furious face, Mr.Shin’s dead face and Her great aunt’s dead body stopped haunting her dreams.

There was no avoiding it (especially when she had acid scars) and there was no point in twisting the truth. She had killed Sang Ah out of self-defense. Sang Ah had burned to death in a trap of her own making. She should not feel bad for protecting her friend and her family from that maniac. She was alive, and she had the opportunity to live her life how she wished now, with no one playing puppet with her. She repeated these things every night until she slowly also came to peace with what happened in the bunker room.

So, yes, being busy would be good for InJoo.

That same Monday evening found InJoo with a glass of wine lounging lazily in front of the expensive Han River view. She looked at the dating app that finished downloading and debated whether or not she was making the right decision. She told herself, that yes, she was right. Her sisters would agree. HwaYoung would agree. Mr.Choi and Mrs.Ahn would also agree.

After setting up the basic profile, (31, ‘connoisseur of convenience store ice cream looking for the right partner in crime’) she began scrolling through the eligible matches.

In an hour she had rejected every suggested bachelor in a fifteen-kilometer radius. She told herself she had good reasons for doing so.

This one’s chin was too pointy.

He was handsome. Too bad, he did not fill out his suit in the way she preferred.

That man’s bio was not mysterious enough.

This man did not look like he had a good strut.

Were all the good men taken?

What was wrong with them?

Was there something wrong with her? (Probably.)

Annoyed, she dropped the phone on the couch and finished her wine in one big gulp, then glared at the ceiling.

She did not need a man anyway. InJoo was now the rich man she wanted to once to marry. Picking up the phone again, she deleted her dating account. Yes, she thought drunkenly, like all things this Mr.Choi shaped problem too would go away eventually. Hopefully.

Chapter 2: the one where InJoo meets the worm

Chapter Text

7 months later

InJoo found memories, or more specifically, the act of reliving memories to be disorienting. There were times when she wanted to recall something intentionally, her mind would refuse to cooperate. Like when she was taking a test in English and she couldn’t remember the past tense form of a verb. Or when she was trying to remember if she’d turned the stove off after she’d already left her apartment. Or, most worrying, when she walked into a room but didn’t quite remember why she had done so. She sometimes wondered if she was having early onset memory problems, then made a mental note to go to the doctor, a note she would inevitably forget about until the next time she found herself in a similar situation.

If not being able to remember was like feeling lost in a small maze, then reliving something she hadn’t intended to remember was like being suddenly submerged in a pool of water. It was curious how the smallest things could make her mind fish out an extremely specific memory and demand that she acknowledge it.

Like just now, when she was standing in line at a café, and the smell of black coffee ushered in a memory of excel sheets, cool white fluorescent lights and Mr.Choi’s eyes flicking furiously across his computer screen. Instantly, all her other senses began reliving that memory as well, until she was fully transported into that time and she felt a strange combination of nostalgia and panic, and started wondering if ---

“Miss could you please step forward and make your order?” And just like that, InJoo snapped back into her current self, feeling disoriented and a bit cold.

InJoo found, unsurprisingly, that forgetting someone was much easier said than done. Of course, she could have made it easier for herself if she went on dates with other men. But it wasn’t fair to them, not when a Mr.Choi shaped worm treated her heart like a hearty peach and had made itself a comfortable home within it.

As she sipped her latte and observed the other café patrons, she idly wondered how he was doing. Was he eating well? Did he still take his coffee black, or had his travels persuaded his tastebuds to take it sweeter? Did he ever think about her? InJoo had long given up trying to smother thoughts about him when they habitually rose up. After all, the first step to recovery was acceptance. (She shamelessly ignored the rational voice telling she was loitering in this step for several months now.)

“InJoo! You are here early!” InJoo looked up at her friend with a smile.

“I was tutoring a student in the library nearby.”

“Ahhh and how is our dear little JoonHyuk doing with his addition,” SooJung inquired as she pulled up the chair across from InJoo.

“He is getting there, although we spent more time discussing the details of the dinosaur eggs than actually counting them.”

“He’s detail oriented.”

“He wanted to know if each egg had twins. And then he asked if one dinosaur had two heads, would that be considered one or two dinosaurs.”

SooJung pursed her lips in thought, “It’s a good question though.”

“What’s a good question?” JiWon said as she put her bag across the back of the chair and sat down adjacent to InJoo.

“If a dinosaur has two heads, does that count as one dinosaur or two dinosaurs?”

JiWon took a sip of her tea before answering, “That is a good question.”

“What’s a good question?” The fourth and final part of their little quartet had made it, JiHo carefully slid into the remaining seat and then heaved a heavy sigh of relief.

SooJung slid a InJoo a smothered grin before answering, “If a dinosaur has two heads, does that count as one dinosaur or two dinosaurs?”

JiHo nodded thoughtfully, “That is a good question.” SooJung’s smothered grin turned unrestrained, and InJoo couldn’t help but laugh a little. JiHo looked at them curiously, “Who asked the question?”

“The kid I am tutoring, JoonHyuk.”

“Ahhhh JoonHyukie, he is meant for great things indeed. He seems to care about the details,” JiWon nodded seriously like she had a clear view of the future.

“That’s what I said!”

JiHo scoffed, “Unsurprising, seeing as most of the time you two share the one poor overworked braincell.”

JiWon gave her a mock affronted look, “We prefer the term telepathically-conjoined.”

SooJung followed up with, “Does that mean that we are one person or two people?”

“That is a good question,” InJoo couldn’t help but chime in.

JiHo glared at the three of them with but the corners of lips were tugged upwards, “If you losers are going to be like this all night, then I’ll just go home.”

SooJung said “Alright, waddle on out of here, don’t let the door hit your bottom on the way out!”

“Why would you bring up my waddle? You know I’m sensitive about my waddle! You try being seven and half months pregnant and not to waddle, you toad!”

“I think your waddle is very cute,” JiWon assured her.

“Her waddle is hilarious,” SooJung corrected.

InJoo looked at them fondly as she let their bickering wash over her. She had connected with them in an unconventional way. One night, InJoo had been picking up a to-go order at a restaurant near her home, when she spied a woman in a corner finish yelling into her phone, “Well, f*ck you, you waste of space!” and then start immediately bawling. She’d attracted a significant share of odd looks, before people awkwardly averted their gazes and tried in vain to pretend that she didn’t exist. InJoo felt sympathetic for her, crying alone could be freeing, but crying alone in a public space was an ordeal.

So, she’d walked over to the weeping woman’s table and asked her, “I know we don’t know each other, but do you want to talk about it?”

The woman had looked up at InJoo with tearful eyes and an already red nose, “No I—it’s alright, I’ll be okay, I don’t want to burden you with my problems.”

“I don’t mind.” And she had a free evening.

“It’s just, men suck, you know?”

InJoo gave her a comforting nod, “Men do suck.” Then gently shook the soju bottle she had asked for at the counter, “Do you drink?”

Her soon to be drinking companion answered her with a small watery smile, “My name is Kang SooJung, please take a seat.”

“My name is Oh InJoo.”

InJoo learned that SooJung’s boyfriend of two years had dumped her because his parents wanted him to marry a girl of their choice and threatened his inheritance if he chose otherwise. However, she had not been crying because of the break-up, but because her ex had told her she couldn’t live in their shared apartment anymore and gave her a day to move her out her belongings. SooJung had a steady job as a product designer, but she was understandably worried about being homeless.

She felt outraged on her new friend’s behalf, and then without pausing to think, she offered, “You can live with me until you find a place.” She wanted to smack herself, had she learned nothing? But then she repeated the things she told herself before interacting with strangers:

1. Not everyone was like SangAh and HwaYoung.
2. She couldn’t suspect every person of the worst. She would never learn to trust anyone if she lived like that. She didn’t want to rot away alone in her apartment because she couldn’t learn to trust other people.
3. She refused to let SangAh control her from her grave and she refused to let HwaYoung’s betrayal ruin the rest of her life.

SooJung had stared at her for so long that InJoo started second guessing where she went wrong. Then she eventually asked, “What if I’m a scam artist?”

InJoo had highly doubted any scammer would publicly shame themselves by creating such a pathetic scene, but she checked just in case, “Are you a scammer?”

“No.”

“Then I guess we don’t have a problem.”

“But that’s exactly what a scammer would say!”

“You could show me your lease and your job employment as proof.”

“What if you’re a serial killer?”

“I’m not.”

“That’s exactly what a serial killer would say.”

SooJung was rewarded with an exasperated look for her overthinking. She had finally agreed and promised to move out after one or two months. InJoo had more than enough room, Inkyung had an internship and preferred to live abroad during school breaks. When she had invited InHye and HyoRin to stay with her during their breaks, they also politely turned her down.

Fortunately for InJoo and SooJung, they both were neither scammers nor serial killers.

InJoo enjoyed having SooJung as a roommate and as a friend. SooJung’s friend group adopted InJoo during their pseudo landlord-tenant relationship. She’d met Song JiWon, a shy T.V. script writer. And Yoon Jiho, who worked as a freelance website designer and who had just found out she and her husband were expecting their first child.

They had all eventually recognized her from the publicized hearing. InJoo had been regretting that day, but she was pleasantly surprised when they all sympathized with her (SooJung had told her, “I wish my coworker gave me two billion won, but the dickhe*d only cares about getting a promotion”). When they became curious about her nice apartment, she had only told them that she had inherited the apartment and some wealth from her great aunt. The other details were better left unsaid.

Overtime, like JiHo’s belly, their friendship grew. Although SooJung had in fact moved out after two months, InJoo was grateful they all still stayed friends. It was a risky move to invite a stranger into her home, but if she hadn’t taken that leap of faith she wouldn’t be here with them today.

JiHo bemoaned, “What are we having today? I cannot wait for dinner.”

“It depends on what your fetus is craving today,” JiWon answered. “And it’s little early for dinner, but we can go out and find something in another half an hour.”

InJoo leaned in and tilted her head close to JiHo’s swollen stomach, “Your highness, I’ve heard the samgyeopsal in the restaurant across the street is the most delicious. We can go there if it sounds pleasurable to you.”

JiHo stared down at her with a haughty expression and sniffed, “That sounds adequate, good work peasant.”

They had moved to the restaurant soon after. After all, how could they let a pregnant woman go hungry.

“Okay well I have some exciting news to share with all of you here today,” SooJung clapped her hands. “Guess what?”

“You won a billion won!”

“You met Ji ChangWook and he fell in love with you and asked to marry you! And we’re all invited to the wedding!”

“Your loud upstairs neighbor moved far, far away!”

SooJung looked oddly put out by their answers, “No, ugh well now my thing is going to sound so unexciting.”

“No, tell us, I’m sure it’s exciting!” JiHo urged her.

“I’m taking kickboxing lessons.”

“Oh cool! Like a kangaroo!” InJoo told her excited.

“No, like the one where I learn to fight people.”

JiWon looked bemusedly at InJoo, “Do kangaroos also take kickboxing lessons to fight people?”

InJoo rolled her eyes, “No, no kangaroos also kickbox.”

“With their little arms?”

“It involves legs as well, but I’m telling you they do it to assert dominance.”

“Maybe I can assert dominance over my upstairs neighbor via kickboxing,” SooJung mused.

“You guys can laugh at me, but I saw it in a nature documentary once!”

“I believe you InJoo,” JiHo reassured her. “I also believe that I might be growing a little kangaroo in me.”

“That sucks, how’re you planning on breaking the news to your husband?” SooJung asked. JiHo gave her an unamused look.

“I have some news too,” JiWon announced. She paused for dramatic effect, her eyes flicking around the table to make eye contact with each of them, “I asked out the cute guy from my gym.”

Everyone whooped and wished congratulations. JiWon thanked them all as though she had just received an award. JiWon was the shyest of all of them, especially when it came to men. So, this was a big milestone for her.

JiWon lifted her lemonade, “And here’s hoping he’s as faithful to you as much as InJoo is faithful to the man who never calls her.”

Everyone except InJoo whooped once more and proceeded to clink their glasses together to finish the cheers. She pouted at them, “I’ve told you, he doesn’t have a phone.” But surely, he could’ve used another person’s phone.

It was unavoidable for them to find about InJoo’s Choi DoIl Problem. However, the way it happened was mildly embarrassing. InJoo had this photo of Mr.Choi on her phone, one she had surreptitiously snapped of him when they were in Singapore. She was aware of how creepy and invasive it was to have a picture of a man who wasn’t aware he had been photographed. However, when her thumb hovered over the delete button, something within always held her back from finishing the act.

He’d looked so ruffled and so unlike his usual polished self. He wasn’t doing anything extraordinary in it, he was looking at his phone with a furrowed brow and a light flush across his cheeks. Mr.Choi already had his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, and the humidity had also forced him to undo the top three buttons exposing his collarbones and a sliver his chest. The evening sun was shining in from the windows to cast part of his face in a golden glow. The moment was unremarkable, but to InJoo it felt intimate and precious. And so, the photo continued to live in her phone.

She had forgotten that she had set her phone settings to have her lock screen cycle through the photos from her library. During one of the evening hangouts at her apartment, she had moved to turn on her phone to check the time and there he was. JiWon who had been sitting next to her at the time had seen it and exclaimed, “Whoa, he’s so hot!”

In the same way sunflowers turned their faces towards the sun, Jiho and SooJung moved their bodies and leaned in to take a closer look at her phone. Within seconds connections were made.

“He kind of looks familiar, where have I seen him before, is he an actor or something ---”

“--No …Oh my god, wait is he the dude who testified during your case, InJoo –”

“—that’s right! Why is he in your phone---”

And in the next following seconds, accurate conclusions were drawn.

“Were you that close to him?”

“Do you like him? Is that why you have this picture?”

“Girl, didn’t he call you naïve on national television?”

InJoo could only blink at them for a few moments before giving them a single resigned nod. They eventually learned everything about The Problem.

“InJoo, I love you, but you remind of those ladies in old films where they wait for their sailor boyfriends to come back. You didn’t even give him a lock of your hair to remember you,” JiHo teased.

“I will not dignify that with a response.”

“I’ll tell you what, if your man—”

“—he’s not my man—”

JiWon batted her comment away as though it was an annoying fruit fly, “If your man ever comes back to visit you, I’m going to pitch my show idea to a producer.”

“Well, I hope he does, so we can all watch your show on T.V.,” InJoo huffed.

SooJung clinked her glass with InJoo’s, “That’s the spirit!”

InJoo cursed herself as she looked up at the pouring sky. In her rush to catch the bus for her weekly visit to Mrs.Ahn, she had forgotten her umbrella at home. Usually, she enjoyed the walk from the bus stop to her friend’s cottage but walking in the rain seemed like a sure way of catching a cold.

A red truck suddenly pulled up in front of her and she jumped back with a yelp to avoid the subsequent splash of water. The driver side window rolled down to reveal a cheerful Chief Hong.

“Ahoy Ms.Oh!”

“Chief Hong!”

“Do you need a ride to Mrs.Ahn’s?”

InJoo gave him a sheepish grin, “If you don’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I minded,” he said, then gestured for her to come around to the passenger side.

InJoo and Chief Hong had developed a camaraderie over the course of her visits to his seaside town. Mrs.Ahn was determined to set them up and had somehow gotten them to go on a coffee date some months ago. However, they had both realized neither of them were interested in starting any romantic connection, and thus the unlikely friendship had been born.

“Busy week?” InJoo inquired.

“Not too bad, some jobs around town, the usual. There was an incident with a pervert.”

“A pervert?!”

“Some rich asshole who thought his status granted him rights to do as he pleased. But it’s been taken care of now.”

“Ah I see. How is the new dentist, Dr.Yoon? Has she settled in well?”

“She’s settled in as well as one can hope, I suppose.”

“Uh huh,” InJoo narrowed her eyes, amused at his non-answer. She knew the town’s newest addition intrigued him, in the same way Mr.Choi intrigued her.

Chief Hong looked at her, and then turned back to the road with a smirk, “Something new has arrived at Mrs.Ahn’s.”

“Really?”

“Yep, arrived a couple of days ago.”

“What is it?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

InJoo was intrigued, “Did she buy a full weaving loom now? Or like a sheep? To harvest wool straight from the source?” Mrs.Ahn had gotten really into textile related crafts.

Having also received homemade gifts from Mrs.Ahn’s hobby, Chief Hong chuckled. “You’ll see.”

She decided to give up on the topic, and instead asked “Were you supposed to go out on the boats this weekend?”

“That was the plan, but I’m feeling more inclined to just stay in.”

They continued to chat until they reached the cottage. They tried to make their way to the door as quickly as possible, but they still got damp. InJoo noticed Chief Hong carrying a large tuppleware box. Before she could ask him about it, the door opened to reveal Mrs.Kim, “Ah! Chief Hong! Ms.Oh! Come in, come in! Before you catch a cold!” She ushered them in and shut the door.

After she carefully toed off her shoes near the door, InJoo looked up and froze. There in Mrs.Ahn’s warm living room, sitting on her couch was Mr.Choi. She drank in the sight of him, her mind utterly empty. Her heart kicked up a furious rhythm: He was here. He was here. He was here.

He wore a small smile and raised his hand to greet her. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out, so she closed it. Then blinked, then tried to say something again to no avail.

“Ms.Oh, you can stay there and continue your remarkable imitation of a fish if you prefer, but feel free to come into the living room. Chief Hong, it’s a pleasure to see you!” Mrs.Ahn’s admonishment forced to stumble further into the cottage and to snap her eyes away from Mr.Choi. Mrs.Kim gave her an amused smile before taking Chief Hong’s box into the kitchen.

When she looked at Chief Hong, he knowingly smirked at her. The gall, for him to enjoy this. He could’ve given her a more explicit warning since he had an inkling about her Problem.

Mrs.Ahn sat on the couch next to her son, with a blanket over her legs. She had grown visibly frailer due to the chemotherapy following her surgery, but InJoo knew from experience her spirit was still strong. “What a surprise, to see the two of you together.” Her eyes held a keen interest.

“I was stuck at the bus stop because of the rain, Chief Hong gave me ride.”

“That’s right, I am here to drop off some goodies the neighborhood grandmas want to pass on to you.”

Mrs.Ahn beamed at him, “How kind of them! Please pass on my thanks.”

Although InJoo tried not to look at Mr.Choi to avoid short circuiting her brain again, her eyes migrated to him all on their own. He was thankfully staring curiously Chief Hong, so she took the opportunity to observe the changes in him. He had a mild tan and had gotten a haircut so his hair did not brush his eyes anymore.

Her hurriedly eyes moved away again, afraid that she would get caught. Mrs.Ahn regarded Chief Hong and InJoo for a brief moment and pointedly said, “How chivalrous of you Chief Hong, to give Ms.Oh a ride. I’m sure you must’ve been very busy.”

“Yes, he was, thanks Chief Hong,” she told him. Then reached into her bag to pull out a five-thousand won note, and shoved it into his hands with a sharp smirk, “Thank you for your service.”

He glanced down at the cash in his hand and then said, “I feel like I deserve tip for providing good company, but this is fine, we can negotiate it later.” He was infuriating. InJoo wished she could kickbox him out of this room.

“Chief Hong, why don’t you stay for lunch?”

“Sorry Mrs.Ahn, I would love to, but I have other standing appointments.”

Mrs.Ahn seemed disappointed.

“Right, well, bye everyone,” he said while making his way to the door. There, he turned around and offered, “Ms.Oh let me know if you need a ride back to the bus stop.” And then he left. Good riddance.

She heard Mrs.Ahn sigh, “What a nice man.” Mr.Choi gave his mother a bewildered look.

InJoo took a seat across from the mother and son and searched for a safe place to rest her eyes. Mr.Choi solved her dilemma by asking her, “How are you?”

Now she was forced to make eye contact with him to avoid being rude, but she didn’t know if she could handle it yet, so she looked at a random spot on his forehead, “I’m alright. How are you, when did you get here?”

“Two days ago. I’m fine.”

She nodded and moved her eyes to the doily on the coffee table, trying and failing to get a control over her senses. She had so many questions, but Mrs. Ahn would likely not approve of them considering their last conversation about her son.

An awkward silence lapsed between the three. Mrs. Ahn and InJoo had outgrown this sort of awkwardness after the first four meetings, but today was different for an obvious reason.

Mrs.Kim took mercy on all of them by inviting them into the dining room for their meal. Mr. Choi helped his mother up and guided her to the table. Mrs. Kim and Mrs. Ahn sat on one side, Mr. Choi and InJoo sat across from them. He was close enough for his elbow to brush hers.

The seafood medley stew smelled divine, and the colorful assortment of side dishes made InJoo’s mouth water. She was hungrier than she thought. While Mrs. Kim ladled the stew into Mrs.Ahn’s bowl, Mr.Choi gently moved a dish of flatfish sashimi closer to InJoo’s rice bowl. It was her favorite, she had told him so during one of their meals together. Then he picked up her empty soup bowl and served stew into it before carefully setting it down. His arm brushed lightly against hers when he moved back. InJoo bowed her head in a quiet thanks. He acknowledged it with a tilt of his head. Her heart was fluttering happily, and her inner InKyung hissed at her,he just served you food, that’s all, get a hold of yourself.

She looked up at across the table and found both Mrs. Kim and Mrs. Ahn were staring bemusedly at them and InJoo felt like she was caught doing something salacious with Mr. Choi. Mrs.Ahn’s stare turned a shade flinty, and it shifted to her son, who started his meal and was (acting?) oblivious to everything. Still looking at him she said to InJoo, “It was nice of Chief Hong to give you a ride, Ms.Oh.”

This again. “Yes, it was fortunate that he came by when he did.” InJoo figured this wouldn’t be a good time to glance at Mr.Choi, so she kept her gaze forward at the two women. She noticed Mrs. Kim eating her food like it was popcorn and viewing the three of them with the focus one would have when watching a drama. InJoo took a sip of her stew, and tried to change the subject, “Mrs.Kim, this stew is delicious!”

“It seems that you and Chief Hong have grown closer recently.” Mrs.Ahn seemed most intent on this topic today, much to InJoo’s dismay. She usually didn’t insist on it beyond a reproachful remark.

“We are friends.”

“Hmm,” Mrs.Ahn’s stare had not moved an inch away from her son. “Have you given anymore thought about viewing him as a romantic partner?”

Despite expecting that question, InJoo still slightly choked on her rice. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr.Choi stiffen before resuming his motions. “We are just friends; we don’t see each other beyond that.”

“He is a lovely man.” Even though Mr.Choi hadn’t said a single word through this entire meal, his silent demeanor felt deafeningly loud to InJoo.

“I agree, but he is interested in someone else.”

Mrs.Kim leaned in with interest, “Who?”

Mrs.Ahn also looked at her curiously, “Yes, who?”

InJoo sent a mental apology to Chief Hong and Dr.Yoon for what she was about to do, especially since she knew Mrs.Kim was a mean gossip. “I think he’s interested in Dr.Yoon, the dentist.” Desperate times called for desperate measures.

“…makes sense,” Mrs.Kim murmured, as though she had been enlightened. Mrs.Ahn only hummed thoughtfully.

InJoo’s relief arrived prematurely, because the two older ladies reverted to their roles from before the revelation. It seemed that Mrs. Ahn was not yet done, “Well, perhaps he wouldn’t have had to look elsewhere if you had just won his heart before she’d arrived. There’s still a chance for you two, you know.”

InJoo stared down at her food, her mind racing to figure out how to end this conversation. Unfortunately, her mouth moved faster than her mind, and she blurted, “He’s not my type.”

Mrs.Kim seemed gleefully entertained by this sudden twist. At least someone was having fun.

Mrs.Ahn similarly decided that InJoo offered a much more interesting idea, “And what, Ms. Oh, is your type? Just for future reference when I try to find other eligible men for you.”

The painfully evident answer to that question was sitting to InJoo’s left. She could not lie and so she told the truth, “That is between me and god.” Mr.Choi barked a short laugh before turning away to cough into his shoulder. InJoo felt her face burn, “And while I appreciate your efforts Mrs. Ahn, you don’t have to find men for me.”

Mrs. Ahn narrowed her eyes at her, and InJoo resisted the urge to squirm in her seat. Thankfully Mrs.Ahn seemed to let the topic of her dating life go for now, and she said, “How are your sisters?”

The rest of lunch passed peacefully. InJoo relayed her sister’s most recent accomplishments and future interests with pride. Mr. Choi shared stories of his travels through Greece and Italy, but InJoo noted that his stories seemed rather superficial in that they purposefully left out any personal details. She hoped Mrs. Ahn would apply her probing questioning skills to his stories, but she only asked superficial questions. InJoo wondered if Mrs. Ahn already knew the truth, whatever it was, of Mr. Choi’s travels and was doing this for the sake of appearances. Or maybe Mrs. Ahn genuinely did not know and did not wish to know.

After lunch, Mrs. Ahn and InJoo retired back to the living room to knit. Mr.Choi sat on the armchair in the corner, and for a moment, she thought he would also knit with them but then he proved her wrong by pulling out a laptop.

Mrs. Ahn and InJoo eventually regained their usual camaraderie. While knitting, they faithfully visited all the subjects from their figurative rolodex. They discussed the drama they both were following. They discussed InJoo’s tutoring job. They discussed Mrs.Ahn latest ambitions regarding her knitting hobby. Mrs. Ahn had created her own patterns but was unsure how to sell them. InJoo promised to research about starting an online shop for her patterns and share her findings next weekend.

Occasionally she could feel a warm gaze on her face coming from somewhere near the corner of the room. But when she looked up, Mr.Choi was always looking at his computer screen.

Before she knew it, two hours had passed by. Mrs. Ahn asked InJoo to hold up her work for inspection. She had intended it to be a hat, however her creation had taken on a strange hourglass shape with a handful of holes scattered throughout. She didn’t know why she struggled with knitting when it mostly consisted of moving stiches from one needle to another. Mrs. Ahn told her, “Lovely”.

Mr.Choi gave a doubtful “hah”, and InJoo frowned but was also inclined to agree with him.

His mother shook her head as if to reassure InJoo, and said, “Ignore him. The beauty is in the journey after all, and this is much better than your first few attempts! You’ve come a long way!”

InJoo shyly smiled at her, then tilted her head to look at the clock on the wall, “I think it’s probably time I head home. The evening bus will be arriving soon.”

“Right, of course,” said Mrs.Ahn, then looked out the window worriedly, “It’s still raining. Perhaps you should call Chief—”

“I can drop you off Ms.Oh,” Mr.Choi cut in. Mrs. Ahn gave him a long look, so he explained, “I have to go into Seoul to take care of some things anyway.”

“Mr.Choi, you don’t have to, I can just as well the take the bus, I don’t want to burden you—”

“I don’t mind.”

Her mind helpfully fished out a dialogue from him. It’s a habit of sorts. “Alright. Thank you.”

The patter of the rain on the car roof and the windshield wipers moving back and forth created a rhythm that helped soothe InJoo’s nerves. They had three hours together, and InJoo was excited and nervous about them having a chance to speak without an audience.

“I had to sell my old car when I left,” Mr.Choi told her, after noticing her look around curiously.

“Ah.”

“This one isn’t German, sorry about that.”

“I don’t mind that it’s not German, I am grateful for the ride.”

“Oh, no? Do you not have a car type? Or is that between you and god as well?” He asked, his tone all innocent.

She cast him a dry look, “I don’t have a preference.”

“Lucky for me.” Was he flirting? She couldn’t tell, and she regretted not going on dates, at least she could’ve gotten some practice flirting and being coy. In her defense, she thought his ‘I will see you again!’ to be a kinder way of saying ‘Goodbye! Forever!’, so she hadn’t felt the need to practice at all.

“What were you actually doing all those months without your phone and email?” The question had been eating away at her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

“That too! The only way I knew you were alive was because of Mrs.Ahn.” She never explicitly gave her updates about her son, but InJoo knew if something happened to him, his mother would be notified.

“Is that why you visit my mother? To be updated about me?”

“I—," InJoo swallowed and tried to figure out the best way to answer that question without oversharing. “That was initially why, but I like spending time with your mother, I’ve come to think of her as a friend.”

“You’ve been visiting Choi HeeJae too, I’ve heard,” he looked at her from the corner of his eyes.

Mrs. Ahn had tattled on her! “I was just checking in on him, I’ve come to think of him as a friend too.” And then added defensively, “Not everything is about you Mr.Choi, it’s quite self-centered of you to think so.”

“I appreciate it. You visiting my mother and Mr.Choi, I mean. And for humbling me, just now,” he gave her a small smile.

If only she could pause this scene and call her friends for a second opinion, just to check if he was flirting with her or just being friendly. A younger InJoo would be able to confidently read him, and InJoo felt nostalgic for her.

“You don’t think I’m overstepping?”

“I am not their keeper, they are adults and if they wished to no longer see you, I’m sure they would’ve told you.”

“Fair enough.”

A comfortable silence lapsed between them for a while.

“What were you doing in all those months without your phone and email?”

His eyes flicked to her face before returning to the road, “I had some business to take care of.”

Typical of him to give be ambiguous. She decided to push him, “Is that why you came back? Do you have some business here as well?”

“Something like that.”

“How long do you think you’ll be staying?”

“It depends on how things go.” She had a strong urge to take him by his coat lapels and shake the answers out of him. “How are you settling back into your life?”

“My life definitely isn’t the same as before, but I’ve been working hard to move past what happened,” InJoo nodded to herself. “I’ve been taking English classes.”

“That’s good, I’m happy for you Ms.Oh.”

InJoo watched the shadows from the highway lamps travel across his face, then focused on her hands in her lap. She took a breath and asked, “Can I ask you something personal?”

There was a long pause and InJoo almost opened her mouth to say that he could say no, but then he said, “Sure.”

“I don’t know if you remember this, but when we were all planning on what to do after you broke us out of the hospital, you said something like ‘If we don’t kill Park JaeSang, we won’t be able to carry on a normal life anymore’,” it came out in a rush. InJoo bit her lip, then glanced at Mr.Choi. His jaw was stiff with tension. She felt bad for a moment, worried that she might have brought back the stressful memories from before, but she marched ahead of her guilt, “What does a normal life mean for you?”

She noted his face relax, he hadn’t been expecting that, but then what was he expecting? “I..,” his hands flexed against the steering wheel and his head tilted slightly to the left, contemplating her question. “What does it mean for you?”

She hadn’t thought he would reverse her question, so she too had to think about it. Normal for her used to mean worrying about finances, cutting out supermarket coupons, eating lonely lunches, and dreaming of giving a better life to her sisters. Normal for her now was, “Having weekly video calls with my sisters, teaching kids who are bad at math, and spending time with friends.” Her life had changed so much, and she thanked the divine every day for letting the events unfold in her family’s favor.

He had a small grin now, “And what are your plans for normal in the future?”

She bit her the inside of cheek in thought. “Kids.” She had always wanted to have children and promised herself years ago that she would do better for her kids than what her mother had done for hers.

“Kids…?”

“I meant eventually having children.”

“Ah.”

She was about to open her mouth to repeat her original question, but he then he asked, “Do you have someone in mind for that?”

“Pardon?”

How curious, his ears were slowly turning red, “I meant, ah, I meant are you interested in anyone – seeing anyone currently, I mean?” Was he stumbling over his words? How curious indeed.

“No, I am not seeing anyone.” Then naturally, “Are you seeing anyone?” And she wanted to stuff the words back into her mouth. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to know, she did. However, she also wanted to live in obliviousness, she didn’t want to think about the other woman he had chosen to be his partner. Inevitably, she started imagining this other woman Mr.Choi favored. She was probably worldly and sharp, and she carried herself with a sophisticated sort of confidence. Maybe she was born into money. A heiress or a ---

“No I’m not, seeing anyone.” He peeked at her and then quickly back at the road. “Are you planning to? See anyone that is? For your future normal life?”

InJoo could sense that he was searching for a specific answer, but she couldn’t figure it out. What did he want? Why couldn’t he just spell it out, didn’t he know she was dense sometimes? Was this him showing interest in her because he was interested or because he was just catching up with an acquaintance? “No. Not in the near future at least,” she said. “But Mr.Choi this is the twenty-first century, women don’t need men to have children. We have options. Sperm donors, artificial insemination, adoption.” She had gotten drunk one night and figured since she had the financial capability to raise a child alone, she might as well do the research. Though, it would be nice to have a partner for support.

“That’s a good point.” He sounded mildly chastised

A short lull in conversation followed. Then InJoo decided that she could not let him escape, “You still haven’t answered my question, what does a normal life mean for you? You know my answer, it’s only fair I know yours.”

“It’s only fair,” he laughed shortly before growing serious again. “I’ve lived an abnormal life for the past two decades, and I’ve wanted an ordinary life for just as long. But now, I’m not sure--,” he grew silent.

“You’re not sure…?”

“I’m not sure what ordinary for me actually looks like.” He looked so lost.

With a mind of its own, Injoo’s hand lifted up towards his shoulder, but then she stopped it, so it hovered awkwardly in the chasm between them. Was she overstepping a boundary? She remembered all the times he had touched her shoulder, and thought resolutely, no. Her hand reached its desired destination and gave a comforting pat pat. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out Mr.Choi, you are one of the smartest people I know.” Then she let her hand drop quietly into her lap. The touch helped cement that all of this was not a dream and that he had truly come back.

He blinked at her in surprise, then smiled the same smile he had given her before boarding his plane all those months ago, “Thank you.” Her heart commanded her brain to take a picture of this scene and save it to a mental folder labeled Choi_DoIl_smiles.

Both returned their gazes to the highway. Neither, it seemed, felt the need to break the peaceful quiet. Eventually, the sound of rain combined with the warmth of the car lead to her dozing off.

“Ms.Oh, please wake up we are in Seoul,” someone nudged her shoulder.

InJoo was startled awake, after realizing where she was and who she was with, she subtly brushed her hand near her mouth to check for drool. “Sorry, I fell asleep.”

“It’s alright, I just need help navigating to your apartment.”

“Ah,” she looked out the window and noticed the metropolitan scenery. “You can drop me off near the subway station, I can find my way back. I appreciate you driving me this far.”

“I don’t mind driving you there. You must really not like this car if you are trying to get out of it. I mean I know it’s not German and all, but it’s quite nice”

Miffed, she said, “That's not it but thank you for driving me.”

She directed him through the Sunday evening traffic and into her apartment’s garage, all the while feeling disappointed in herself for sleeping through the ride. It had ended too soon.

They both sat quietly for a while. InJoo wanted to linger in this small world within the car, where InJoo and Mr.Choi were the only inhabitants. She felt content and warm.

She turned to him, determined, “Do you have a phone now?” If he wouldn’t tell her what his business was and how long he would be sticking around this time, she wanted to at least keep in contact with him.

“Yes.”

“Would you mind giving me your number?” She offered him her phone. He took it while glancing curiously at the phone case.

“It’s a miniature replica of one of InHye’s illustrations. It’s like advertising, people ask me where I got the artwork for the case, and I refer them to InHye,” she explained.

“Your sister is very talented.”

“Yes, she is.”

“She is lucky to have a sister like you,” he told her warmly while entering his number.

“I’m very lucky to have my little sisters,” she corrected him.

He shook his head a little but said nothing. He handed her phone back, and they resumed their quiet togetherness. InJoo knew she should probably leave soon, but he also wasn’t asking her to get out.

“It’s late, do you want to come up and have dinner together? I can make –”

“No,” he said, “I appreciate the offer, but I have some things I need to do before going back to the cottage.”

“Right!” She wanted to be selfish with his time, but he was not hers. “I’m sorry, thank you for the ride,” she told him and got out of the car.

She completed few steps before she heard him, “Ms.Oh!”

She turned around and saw he was looking at her from through the open passenger side window. “Please let me know when you reach your home.”

“Do you really think I’m going to get kidnapped between the garage and my apartment,” she asked him amused.

“It never hurts to be safe.”

She gave him a small wave and said, “I’ll text you.”

After shutting the door behind her, InJoo pulled out her phone to text Mr.Choi.

I am home.

There was an immediate response.

Have a good night, Ms.Oh.

Chapter 3: The one where InJoo enters a new deal

Chapter Text

To her credit, InJoo didn’t blush or even smile when she mentioned, “Mr.Choi is back in Korea.” She mentally congratulated herself for keeping a neutral tone that betrayed nothing.

“Oh is he? I hope he’s doing well, it’s been a while since I last saw him,” JongHo cheerfully replied.

“Yes, I think InHye, and I last saw him at the bank,” HyoRin, recalled, “We got lunch after, didn’t we InHye.” But InHye did not look at her, because InHye and InKyung were busy staring down InJoo.

“How is he?” InHye asked her. Her eyes, InJoo noticed with a flicker of apprehension, had a knowing gleam to them.

To avoid their stares, InJoo looked at her breakfast yogurt bowl, “He’s doing well I suppose.”

“Where did you run into him?” InKyung asked.

“He was visiting his mother. I met him when I went to visit her last weekend.” She risked a glance at her laptop screen and found her sisters examining her doubtfully.

InKyung straightened in her place on the couch and crossed her arms. Her face became serious in a way that reminded InJoo of T.V. Reporter Oh InKyung. JungHo wearily observed the changes in his girlfriend. InJoo’s stomach roiled uneasily. Her instinct was proved correct when InKyung started a volley of questions against InJoo, each question asked with the intensity of a criminal investigator interrogating a suspect.

“What did he do?”

“Not much. We all had lunch together and then knitted.”

“Mr.Choi knits?” HyoRin interrupted with a grin.

“No, no, Mrs.Ahn and I knitted. Mr.Choi worked on his computer.”

InKyung resumed her examination, “Is that all?”

“He drove me back home.”

“Why?”

“It was raining.”

“I thought you usually took a bus or a cab there?”

“He offered.”

“And you said yes?”

“Obviously.” InKyung gave her a hard frown.

“What did you talk about?”

“Not much. He talked about his travels, and I told him about my lovely, lovely sisters.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“I don’t know. South Korea is a small country, maybe we’ll run into each other,” InJoo retorted. She was tired of this, so what if they met up again? Would that really be a crime?

InKyung’s shoulders hiked up a little towards her ears then sagged, “I’m sorry…I just, I don’t want you to get caught up in strange things again.”

InJoo’s annoyance drained away at her admission, “I get that. But nothing happened.”

“I just don’t trust him.”

“I trust him,” Jung Ho said and blatantly ignored InKyung’s glare. “He came back, if he hadn’t come back, I’m not sure we would be here.”

“I trust him too,” HyoRin concurred. “He helped me figure out my family’s finances and directed me to people I could talk to.” She nudged InHye, giving her the cue to vocalize her agreement. But InHye’s stare had not moved away from InJoo.

“How do you feel?” InHye asked her.

“I’m fine,” InJoo lied.

InHye nodded, “Just don’t sign any forms written in English.”

It was fair, but cheeky advice. “Ya! My English is much better, and I’ve learned my lesson.”

“A reminder never hurt anyone.”

InJoo turned her attention to her favorite two attendants of this week’s call, “And what’s new with you JungHo? HyoRin?”

“My critique session went well, the professor and the other students still gave brutal feedback, but this time I didn’t feel like crying at all.”

InHye rolled her eyes, “She’s being dramatic, her professor told her that she has a strong chance to get selected for the student showcase.”

“Is this about your sculpture of the bust with flowers for the brain?” InKyung asked HyoRin.

“Yes!”

“That’s amazing!” InJoo told her.

JongHo wished her, “I hope you get in!”

HyoRin beamed at the camera in thanks. Her youngest sister and her friend have bloomed, InJoo noticed. HyoRin doesn’t have the strange weariness in her eyes anymore, and InHye’s shoulders no longer curl in like they used to. While she was glad that they have each other, she tasted the slightest hint of bitterness whenever she saw them. InHye and HyoRin, HyoRin and InHye, two blooms sharing a stem. What was it like to grow and learn about the world together?

After InHye deemed her sisters worthy of her texts, InJoo had badgered her to share HyroRin’s number. Then she had called HyoRin, and asked how she was doing with everything, money and her family’s deaths and all. Although InJoo and InKyung were initially excited to have received the large sum, they were ready to give it back to HyoRin if that’s what she wanted. InJoo did not wish to repeat another ordeal. Surprisingly, she had insisted that they keep their share.

InJoo remembered the way her voice had quivered when she said, “My parents weren’t good people. I’m going to miss them, but, I.. they were not good people. I, um, I was so afraid that I was going to become like them, that it would, like it would’ve been inevitable.” She had taken a shaky breath,“After everything my mother put your family through, you still let me come with you and your sister. You gave me a chance to be someone different than my parents, you trusted me to be better. I’m not sure I can ever repay you for that.”

InJoo had wanted to reach through the phone and hug the girl. At that time she had been grappling with demons, so she had confessed, her voice weighed heavy with guilt, “I’m so sorry I took your mother away from you.”

“I know and I forgive you,” HyoRin’s voice had been thick with tears. “But you shouldn’t have been put in that position in the first place, and on behalf of my mother, I’m sorry.”

InJoo had felt only marginally lighter. Tearfully she had replied, “Don’t apologize for your parents’ sins, you aren’t ever responsible for what they did.”

“This and the money is all I can give.” They had both been sobbing at this point.

“You are welcome in our home anytime. And you are welcome to call me anytime, to talk about anything, I’m here for you.” InJoo had promised her.

“My thesis is going….,” JungHo sighed, “Well it's certainly going somewhere.” InKyung gave him a side hug and he tilted his head down toward her.

Their subtle display of affection inspired a small twinge of want in her chest. InJoo breathed it out and encouraged him, “Well I’m sure wherever it is headed, it will be great!”

He laughed, “I sure hope so.”

InKyung sat forward with her bright eyes, “Aren’t you going to ask about me?”

“No, I don’t think I want to actually,” InJoo sniffed. InHye snorted.

“Well since you insisted…”

InJoo knew she didn’t need to mention him at all, InKyung’s interrogation had really been her own fault. But she had been restless all of Monday, needing to tell someone, anyone about the news of Mr.Choi being back. She was looking forward to breaking the news to her friends, and although she could do that over text, she thought it would be far more satisfying to do it in person. Unfortunately, they usually met Thursday night, and that had been far too long of a wait for her.

The family video calls usually happened on Tuesday mornings, and InJoo had been unable to contain herself. Even now, after the phone call had ended, the restlessness was still present. As a new habit, her hand automatically picked up her phone and navigated to her text conversation with Mr.Choi, so she can stare at it. Finally, after months of aimless pining, she had a way to contact him. Not that she had done anything about it so far.

While she was tempted to ask him out for coffee, the worry of repeating the awkward interaction held her back. Perhaps, time had eroded the awkwardness in her memories, and they had always been like this. Or maybe, since they always had the orchid society hovering ominously over their shoulders, they rarely had the chance to speak about normal things. She hoped that it was like doing a new exercise and it would get better with time and practice.

There was only one way to find out if that hypothesis held true. She had to talk to him again.

Wednesday night found her ignoring her English homework in favor of furiously deleting and retyping single-line drafts into her phone. She bit her lip, evaluating her latest version. Hi! Do you want to go out for coffee sometime? Was the exclamation mark too much? If she replaced it with a period would that make her sound too sullen? But the exclamation sounded juvenile…

She was suddenly struck with a horrible thought, could he see her typing? A quick Naver search, confirmed, that yes, unfortunately, he would’ve probably seen her trying and failing to write a text for the past hour. But only if he also had the conversation open, and what were the chances of that happening? So, she breathed out a sigh of relief and looked down at her phone to see a new text. Ms.Oh, just say what you want to say.. She contemplated throwing her phone off the balcony. How long had he been quietly watching her struggle?

Now, she had no option but to do it. “This is okay,” she muttered hysterically, “This is fine, he’s seen you at your worst, this isn’t even that bad.” She took a deep breath, held it in her cheeks, and typed, Do you want to get coffee? It’ll be my treat, I feel bad about falling asleep in the car. She hit send before she could have second thoughts. Then let out the air.

He replied, Sure, does next Wednesday afternoon work for you?

Yes.

Let me know where, and I’ll meet you there.

Ok , she texted.

See you then.

She bit her thumbnail and re-read the last message several times. Well. It had been that easy.

“My instructor told me I have a lot of energy in my punches,” SooJung bragged.

“Poor man, does he get beat up by you students?” asked JiWon.

“No, we mostly just practice on dummies. At least so far.”

Everyone hummed in thought. The long-awaited Thursday evening had arrived. They were all sitting on the floor of SooJung’s living room, sharing an order of fried chicken and, because JiHo had been craving it, an order of spicy fried chicken feet.

InJoo waited for her friends to take a sip from their drinks, and then revealed, “Mr.Choi has returned to Korea.” The reactions were as satisfying as she’d hoped. JiHo sprayed her drink. JiWon and SooJung managed to swallow the majority of their sips down before entering coughing fits.

Still coughing, SooJung told at her with watery eyes, “I don’t believe you.”

Prepared for denial, InJoo promptly got out her phone to show them the text conversation and they all leaned in to confirm, “I have his new number.”

“Unbelievable, the sailor has actually returned,” JiHo murmured.

“Indeed he has,” InJoo told them smugly, as though she had single-handedly dragged him back.

“Why did he send ‘just say what you want to say',” JiWon squinted at the phone.

InJoo would not be felled by her. She tucked her phone away and regarded JiWon with a triumphant smile, “Never mind that. I brought this up because you need to live up to our deal.”

JiWon stiffened, “What deal?”

“The deal where you said if Mr.Choi came back, then you would pitch your idea to a producer.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” JiWon took a long sip of her beer. InJoo scoffed.

JiHo widened her eyes and shook her head at JiWon, “The sheer audacity to lie when there were three witnesses present.”

“You all were so drunk that night that you’re misremembering what happened. I didn’t promise anything like that,” JiWon shamelessly maintained her defense.

“I’m sure you also remember that I’m pregnant, and so I didn’t drink.”

“Your lemonade might have tasted so good that it sent you into a state of intense euphoria, making you drunk.”

“Do you hear yourself right now?” SooJung demanded.

“I,” JiWon spluttered, before giving up. “In my defense, I didn’t think he would come back.” InJoo also hadn’t thought he would come back.

“Well now he has so –”

“I got it, I got it, I’m going to have to sell my idea.”

InJoo reassured her, “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

SooJung said, “She’s right, you can practice with us!”

JiWon gave them a weak smile.

“Well, now that she’s finally admitted to it, let us get back to you,” JiHo sharply swiveled her gaze to InJoo.

“Me?”

“Yes you, so what’s the plan?”

“The plan?”

“Yes, the plan,” JiHo looked exasperated. “You know?”

“I know?”

“Yes, you dummy, you should know your own plan.”

“What she’s trying to ask is are you planning on continuing your pining or are going to do something about it?” SooJung helpfully translated.

“I-I don’t know,” InJoo said. “I don’t have a plan.” She hadn’t, not beyond seeing him again.

“You can’t mean you were just going to let him slip away?” JiWon asked her.

“I, it, I just don’t know how long he’s going to stick around. I don’t even know if he would stay.”

“Then you should give him a reason to do so.”

“We aren’t even friends – well I mean, I consider him my friend – kind of – but really we are just strangers who once knew each other.” A laughable understatement, given what they’d been through.

“You are going to see him again, aren’t you?” SooJung inquired.

“Yes, I, um, I asked him out for coffee. I might run into him when I visit his mom too.”

JiHo insisted, “You need a plan.” Then after a pause, “You do want to get over him, don’t you? You’ve been pining after him for so long, and if you don’t know that he’s sticking around, then maybe it’s best to get over him?”

InJoo wasn’t sure she wanted that. The weird thing about living with a certain emotion for a long time, was that eventually, it would become a companion to its host. While there was Mr. Choi-shaped worm eating her heart, that worm was still birthed by her affection for him. It was something that wouldn’t leave her and wouldn’t betray her because it was a part of her.

As long as she had her worm, she would be fine. In a convoluted way, she had made her peace with him.

She merely swallowed and said, “Sure.”

JiHo squinted at her, sensing that InJoo was hiding something, but thankfully she let it go. “Does anyone have any ideas for the plan?” InJoo wasn’t aware this was a team effort.

“I think you should f*ck him,” SooJung said frankly while gesturing to InJoo with a chicken wing. She rolled her eyes after seeing their affronted looks, “Oh come on, we’re all women in our thirties, surely we aren’t still scandalized by the idea.”

JiWon commanded, “Elaborate.”

“If he leaves again, it won’t matter, because you’ve already slept with him. It will be like getting him out of your system.” She flicked her chicken wing in a small arc, “And if he chooses to stay, then it’s still a win.”

“I’m not sure, wouldn’t that make things worse?” InJoo asked. “What if decides to leave but I got even more attached?”

“At least it won’t be like last time, this time you’ve got a definite answer, so you’ll be able to move on. You’ll get over it, you’ve been through worse.”

JiWon and Jiho seemed pensive, but InJoo still had her doubts. She told them nervously, “It still seems like a large jump. From acquaintances to sexual partners.”

“People hook up all the time,” shrugged SooJung.

InJoo said, “But I don’t.”

JiWon intervened, “You both have a good point, maybe she can like ease into it.”

“So just … date him?”

“Well, yeah, I was thinking that she could woo him?”

JiHo held her chin between her forefinger and thumb, “Intriguing. I get it and I like it. Approved.”

JiHo saw InJoo worrying her lip and explained, “It’s very simple, you take your time to seduce him with your maiden doe eyes --”

“--then f*ck him--,” SooJung continued.

“—then either get over him or live a happily ever after with him,” JiWon finished. InJoo reminded herself of Mrs.Ahn and the elder Mr.Choi’s warnings, what if he wasn’t satisfied with the happily ever after?

“I’m not a maiden, and you’re saying that like he’ll definitely eventually fall for my ‘seduction’.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?”

“Umm….like maybe six years?” Regretfully, it had been with her ex-husband. InJoo had two partners before her ex-husband and all the experiences had been mediocre at best.

“Basically, a virgin,” SooJung concluded.

“A maiden must also be unmarried, and I’m divorced –”

“Your two-month-long marriage to a conman does not count—”

“Alright,” JiHo interrupted. “Let’s not get distracted by the details. The main idea is that InJoo, you’re going to slowly seduce this man, this way you can get comfortable with the idea. Then whether he chooses to stay or not stay won’t matter because you will be able to handle either outcome.”

“I just, do I have to do the seduction part?” A younger InJoo might have been able to do it. She had been a playful flirt. With a little smile and a wink, she could get everything between homework answers and any man’s time. But somewhere along the way, after their father abandoned them with his debt and after her divorce, she lost that part of herself. And seducing Mr.Choi, seemed like an altogether different thing.

JiWon snapped her wrist at her, as though she was slapping away InJoo’s worries, “With you looking the way you do, trust me, that won’t be a problem.”

“Thanks,” she said, flattered.

“You have nothing to worry about,” SooJung told her. “You have us.”

JiHo gave her an out, “If you change your mind at any point, that’s totally okay, it’s your life after all! You don’t have to seduce him, we’re just saying you need to see if it can work out with this guy. If you’re happy, then we’re happy.” JiWon and Soojung nodded eagerly in support.

She squirmed slightly in her seat, but then sighed, “I’ll think about it.”

Her friends rewarded her with a proud smile.

“Speaking of cute guys,” SooJung started. “JiWon how did your date with the Gym Guy go?”

JiWon slipped them a shy grin, “We have a second date.”

Everyone whooped loudly but fell quiet when they heard SooJung’s upstairs neighbor stomp around.

“He’s so passive-aggressive,” SooJung glared up at her ceiling. “I might actually challenge him to a kickboxing fight, I swear.”

InJoo wiped off her sweaty palms on her summer dress and looked around at the other people in the café. She checked the time on her phone again.

Then she saw him enter the shop and look around. She raised her and moved to stand up, but by then he’d already seen her and started making his way to where she was sitting. InJoo wasn’t sure if she should stand or sit, so after a moment of awkward deliberation she sat back down.

Mr.Choi settled in the seat across from her and gave her a polite smile, “Did you have to wait long?”

“No, not at all.”

He opened his mouth again, but a waitress came by to collect their orders. While he gave his order (coffee black, predictable), InJoo took the opportunity to drink in the sight of him. She wondered if Mr. Choi ever dressed casually. Even now, in the summer heat, he still wore a buttondown shirt and dress slacks. She hadn’t seen him at the cottage during her Sunday visit. Mrs. Ahn had told her he had to deal with some business.

After they’d given their orders, InJoo picked up a paper gift bag from next to her chair and placed it on the table, “I forgot to give this to you before you left Korea.”

He looked at her curiously while pulling the bag closer to him. Reaching into it, he pulled out a jewelry box and then blinked down at it. He flipped it open and froze. His eyes moved to her face and said, “I don’t wear earrings. Or bracelets.”

“You can give it to someone else then.”

“Did you not like them?”

She loved them. “They’re the most beautiful things anyone has ever given me,” she assured him. “But they didn’t belong to me, so I wanted to give them back.” They belonged to Most Important Person In The World InJoo.

The left corner of Mr.Choi’s mouth quirked up, but he nodded once in acquiescence. He put the jewelry box back in the bag, then feeling something else, he pulled out a Tupperware box. He raised his eyebrows at her.

“I bake cookies for my students sometimes. This week, I baked extra by accident, so I thought I would share.” This was not an accident. InJoo had remembered him offhandedly mentioning that he enjoyed the ginger snap cookies at a café near his university and she baked these for him. The extras were for her students, who she did occasionally bake for.

Before she finished speaking, he had already opened the lid to sample a cookie. He finished the cookie with three bites, “These are very good, thank you.” Her heart fluttered at his compliment. “I didn’t know you baked.”

She shrugged, “I guess there are many things we don’t know about each other.”

The waitress returned with their drinks. InJoo busied herself with stirring her iced latte. She could feel Mr.Choi looking at her, so she reviewed what she had said. It had come out harsher than she’d intended, but the statement held true. She didn’t know much about him at all, not beyond the little bits she had managed to pick up from him over the brief time she knew him. Yet, somehow, she had managed to pine for him for nearly a year without ever seeing or talking with him.

“You’re right,” he admitted

InJoo sipped her coffee, then asked, “Really though, what is your business here?”

“Here? I was invited to have coffee with you.”

“Hilarious.”

“I agree.”

She breathed hard through her nose and regarded him unimpressed, “Self-flattery is not attractive. I meant what are you doing here in Korea?”

He leaned back in his seat and considered her with a wry grin, “Why don’t you guess?”

“Or you could just tell me.” He wasn’t this vexing before. But then again, before was a different world.

“But it’s more amusing this way.”

“Fine.” Accepting the challenge, she raised her chin up at him. “Are you here to move slush funds for another rich person?”

“Tempting, but no,” he smirked. “Ms.Oh, my specialty isn’t actually moving around slush funds or laundering money. I’m good at efficiently managing investments. Try again.”

InJoo pursed her lips and thought about what would bring him back to Korea, “Your mother?”

“Part of the reason,” he conceded. “My mother didn’t want to travel abroad and wanted to live in her hometown, and I did come back to visit her.”

“What’s the other part of the reason?”

“That’s what you’re supposed to guess.”

She took another sip and swirled the coffee around in her mouth before swallowing, “Your father left you land, didn’t he? The land he got from the orchid society, are you here to deal with that?”

“That land was unfortunately acquired by the government after the investigation.”

“I give up, can’t you just tell me?”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“You’re trying too hard to be mysterious,” she sniped.

He turned his face away from her and laughed. She reveled in its sound. Mr. Choi was more generous with smirks and small smiles. InJoo could count on one hand the number of times she had gotten him to let go and laugh like he was now doing.

He leaned forward, “I think it’s my turn to ask questions don’t you think?”

“Oh, I didn’t know we were taking turns.”

“Well, it’s only fair.”

InJoo yielded with a lazy wave of her hand, “Fine.”

“Would you consider us to be friends?”

“I don’t know, I think friends call each other once in a while to let them know they’re alive.”

“I did say I would be living without a phone.”

“I’m sure they have phones you can borrow in Greece or wherever you were.”

He sounded contrite, “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I consider us friends,” she finally answered him. She’d forgiven him after the first time he apologized in the car but just felt like pushing him about it.

“Then, as a friend, can I ask you a favor?”

“You are asking a question to ask a question? Mr.Choi, you are wasting your turn.”

He ducked his head to hide a smile, but she still saw it. He looked back at her, “I have an apartment here in Seoul, and I’m planning on spending most of my time there. But when my mother visited it, she told me it was the most depressing place she’d seen.”

Considering the fact that Mrs.Ahn spent two decades in prison, InJoo was deeply curious about what could have inspired that comment. She mirrored him by leaning forward, “Why, what do you have in your apartment?”

His eyes fell to the cup between his hands and traced the rim of it with his index finger, “Not much.”

InJoo tilted her head, “Oh, have you not decorated?”

Mr. Choi shook his head, “It’s just me living there. And I often worked long days, so I only ever came back to sleep or shower, so I didn’t really feel the need to.”

Suppressing the unsurprising stream of mental images of him showering that her mind helpfully provided, InJoo asked, “How long have you had the apartment?”

“It’s been a few years,” His index finger moved to trace small circles on the side of the cup.

Her eyes widened in mild surprise, “You’ve lived there for several years?” When she’d met him for the first time, she’d assumed he’d been living out of a hotel.

“I often traveled between London and here, so it was nice to have a place to stay rather than staying at a hotel.”

“I see, what was the favor?”

“I need help decorating,” his eyes glanced at her then returned to observe his finger’s actions.

“Why not just hire a decorator?”

“My mother would know.”

If it had come from any other man, InJoo would have labeled them a “momma’s boy” or a “coward”. But she knew Mr.Choi and she knew Mrs.Ahn, so neither of these things could be said about him. “Why is she so set on you specifically decorating the place?”

“She said that it has to come from my heart.”

InJoo couldn’t help but tease, “But your heart is only filled with love for money.”

The line of his jaw tightened, and she immediately played back what she’d said to understand where it went wrong. “I think she wanted me to live in a place that makes me happy.”

“I thought you had a plan for everything. You don’t have a plan for this?” InJoo figured she might be the last resort.

“Would you believe me if I said my plan was to ask you?”

InJoo had a strong hunch that was a lie, and yet the corners of her lips started stretching into an unintended smile. She pressed her lips together to avoid giving the impression that she could be easily flattered. But he’d already seen it. His eyes shined as though he’d won something and that alone was enough to goad her into replying, “I must see the place first. I have to see what I’m getting myself into if I agree to do this.” She already knew she would agree to this.

He bowed his head slightly, “If you have more time this afternoon, I can show you.”

“What, right now?”

He shrugged, “Why not?”

She couldn’t think of a reason why not.

InJoo had imagined Mr.Choi living in a luxury apartment building, but what he showed her was an affordable flat. It was neither lavish as her current apartment nor meager as their family’s rooftop apartment. Somewhere in between.

After they’d cleared the entryway, he said, “I’ll give you a tour.” He put her paper gift bag on the kitchen counter and then gestured to the kitchen, “This is the kitchen.”

A small giggle was in danger of bubbling out of her throat, but she said, “If you hadn’t told me, I would’ve thought it was the bathroom.”

“Right,” He clapped twice, then rubbed his hands together. “Let’s keep going.” Given the way he avoided looking at her, InJoo guessed that she might be the first person apart from his mother to be here.

Emptiness, she also realized, was the running theme here.

His living room was empty. The space for the dining table was missing its intended purpose. Nothing adorned all the walls.

The only rooms he had filled were the bare necessities. His toiletries had been neatly organized on the bathroom counter. His bedroom (thankfully) had a bed with sheets. The second bedroom had been turned into a makeshift office, but there was one file cabinet, and one desk with one chair. Nothing was on the desk except for a computer and a neat stack of books and binders. InJoo knew even minimalists lived with more than this.

By the time the tour ended, InJoo was inclined to agree with Mrs.Ahn. This was one of the most depressing places she’d visited. The emptiness was nearly suffocating. How could he bear to live here and not bring in anything?

She explored the kitchen, hoping that he’d hidden his belongings there. She could feel him watching her as she opened all his cabinets and drawers. In the process, she discovered that his refrigerator was only stocked with a few bottles of water and two cans of beer.

Finished with her examination, she faced him, peeved that he let the void plague his apartment, “Why do you not have any cooking utensils?”

He stuffed his hands in his pant pockets and focused on the floor, “I don’t cook.”

“How do you live without any cutlery?”

He admitted in a matter-of-fact tone, “I eat out.”

She studied the kitchen counter and let her mind try to rationalize why Mr.Choi was living like this. It made sense. She didn’t know exactly what he’d done for the Park/Won family, but she surmised he must’ve been working multiple jobs. Money launderer. Investment manager. Slush fund overseer. Trying to cut ties and escape. He’d been too busy to care for this apartment.

She turned to him again, “How long are you planning to stay here?”

“I plan to visit my mother two to three times a week, but I prefer to stay here since I have some business in Seoul.” That blasted business again.

“I meant how long are you going planning on staying in Korea? Once this business is done, are you ever going to come back?” He had been probably forced to travel often because of his connections to the orchid society. Since that no longer existed, he could settle wherever he wished.

“I…don’t know.”

“I’m only asking because I’m wondering if you would ever consider just selling this apartment. If you don’t plan on coming back, then its original use is no longer relevant.”

“No,” he finally made eye contact for the first time since they’d entered the apartment, and she was taken aback by the intensity in his gaze, “No, I don’t want to sell it.”

She wondered if the apartment had already accepted his soul.

“So what’s the verdict, Ms.Oh?”

She nodded at him, “I’ll do it.” She couldn’t let him live here like this, no matter how long it would be. Then, mostly because she wanted to hear how he would respond, she said “But what do I get in return?”

“Since you’re already rich, I’m guessing you’re not as interested in money?”

She bit back a smile and shook her head. Her greed for opulence had worn itself out within the first month.

“I’ll buy you a meal every time we meet up for this favor.”

InJoo adopted an air of faux arrogance and offered Mr.Choi her hand, “I suppose that’ll do.”

She caught his lips twitching minutely, but his face remained stoic. When his larger hand grasped hers to complete the handshake, she could feel the comforting warmth of his palm all the way down to the base of her spine.

Later that night, InJoo laid awake in bed musing if the emptiness of Mr.Choi’s apartment had become his companion.

Chapter 4: The one where InJoo becomes intrigued by an old idea

Chapter Text

They agreed to meet twice a week. He didn’t know this, but he ended up hogging most of her time anyway.

It wasn’t intentional on her part – no, really. It wasn’t her fault that nearly everything reminded her of him. When she was in the library with a student, she would catch herself staring at a shelf and musing if Mr. Choi preferred mahogany or a lighter shade for his shelves. The cups in the quaint coffee shop she liked to visit on occasion, nudged her to make a note that he desperately needed cups and spoons and other basic cutlery. She was still in shock that he lived with nary a spoon. What was wrong with him? And to think, she had once felt inferior about how he always seemed so put together.

When her friends checked in to see how her “seduction” was going, she had told them that she put a pin in it for now. InJoo had more pressing matters to attend to.

“Ms.Oh,” he began, “I’m not sure about this.” With the way he infused unsureness in each word, one would think she was asking him to jump off a high-rise building.

“There’s nothing to be unsure about.” They’re only standing in an aisle with pots and pans.

“I don’t cook.”

“Yet. You don’t cook yet.” InJoo looked up at him, mentally willing him to understand that he would be leaving this store with at least one non-stick skillet and that there would be no room for arguments.

“I don’t have time to cook.”

She countered, “You should make time. It’s healing for the soul.” He returned a skeptical glance. She ignored him and pushed the cart (filled with bowls, plates, Tupperware, and other necessary dinnerware) closer to one of the shelves. Picking up a pan, she thought out loud, “Cooking for yourself and others can make you full in more ways than one. And it’s healthier than eating out all the time.” She shot him a reproachful glare out of the corner of her eye.

Mr. Choi tipped his head a little to the side, “What if I’m a horrible cook? What if I starve, because my friend thought that I should cook instead of ordering edible food?” It’s frankly ridiculous how warm her face felt, and all because he referred to her as his friend.

“You’re twisting my words. I also doubt that you’re going to be that bad at cooking.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“You seem like the type of person who would be obnoxiously good at anything you tried.”

“I’ve tried to cook before,” he told her with a self-deprecating smile. “I managed to both undercook and overcook the pasta.”

“So?” She would not let him escape that easily.

“So? I think that’s an indication of my potential.”

“No,” she said while putting the pan in the cart. “It just means that you gave up after the first try. How disappointing, I thought you’re more persistent than that?”

Mr. Choi narrowed his eyes at her, “Are you trying to provoke me?”

“Is it working?” InJoo also narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, before continuing, “I’ll teach you.”

“Cooking?”

“Basic dishes,” she nodded, then moved across the aisle to evaluate the pots. She heard him sigh, resigned.

“You’ll end up frustrated,” he warned her.

“It’s not that complicated. And you’ll have fun,” she promised him.

The problem, InJoo deduced later that same week, was not that Mr. Choi was a bad cook. The problem was that he was a perfectionist. An unforeseen issue to InJoo who had always been content with being average.

In the back of her mind, InJoo had always been aware of this particular trait. The way he had organized and planned everything from the paper company to the fake orchestration of his father getting caught in an explosion had screamed perfectionist. But she truly understood the extent of it in the process of teaching him how to make a rolled omelet.

At first, he wanted to start over, because the egg mixture hadn’t spread evenly enough on the pan. Then wanted to start over again when the omelet started to become lopsided. In the end he poked at it with his chopstick with a small, dissatisfied grimace.

“It’s brown. Yours is golden.”

“It looks fine, you did a great job,” she said. To prove it, she cut his omelet to expose the perfectly cooked cross-section. “See? It’s fine. It’s only brown because we had the heat on too high and you were practicing flipping it.” She took a bite, “It tastes good!”

“It’s lopsided.”

Mr. Choi reminded her of her younger sisters. Of InHye who would huff and start over a piece if it dissatisfied her in the smallest way. Of InKyung who would pour over her strewn notes late into the night, citing that she needed her report to be good enough to show her senior.

InJoo pushed a small piece towards him, “Try it.”

He chewed it slowly, then said, “It’s missing something.”

“You did great on your first time,” InJoo repeated. “And didn’t you have fun?” She received a reluctant grunt. A beat of silence followed. She watched his chopsticks continue to poke his rolled omelet.

He was sitting on a stool and she was standing, with the kitchen breakfast bar between them. The late afternoon sunlight from the window lit up the ends of his hair to a warm golden-brown hue. She grabbed a rag to stave off the itch to brush his fringe away from his forehead and to run her fingers through his hair.

Maybe that’s why he hadn’t done anything with his place, maybe he was paralyzed by his own standards. “Why did you buy this apartment?” The poking paused and she quickly turned around to busy herself with wiping down the stove. He didn’t answer immediately, which made her ears burn with embarrassment from a potential misstep.

“I didn’t really own anything of my own for a long time.”

She turned back to see him still playing with his omelet. His body seemed to be wound tight, his head bowed over the plate. She cursed her curiosity. Only a little.

“Everything was given to me – but nothing was mine. There was an understanding that it was all on loan and I was expected to pay it all back.” He glanced off to the side, “This apartment was the first thing I bought with my own money.”

InJoo understood it, what he meant. The cheap worn-in heels that she’d bought with her first paycheck still lived in her closet. “Would you ever go back? To whatever you did before?”

“No – for now, I’m not planning to.”

She wrung the rag in her hands tighter in response and regarded his omelet again. “Your apartment isn’t perfect you know.” He was focused on her now, and she found his sharp attention both thrilling and nerve-racking. “Does that mean you … love it any less?”

It prompted an instant, “No.”

“Because it’s yours?” She took the awkward lift of his right shoulder as a yes. “Then why is your omelet any different?” His brows furrowed. “Your omelet, you made it – it’s still yours. It deserves the same respect you give to this place.”

Mr.Choi’s eyes roved around her face, before granting a grin, “You’re right. I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way.” He sampled another bite of his creation and chewed it like he was tasting something new.

“I think you’re ready to move on to simple stews next. What do you think?”

His furrow returned, “That seems like intermediate cooking to me. I’m still a beginner. I think we should spend more time with the basics first.”

She sighed. Her work was cut out for her.

Before InJoo knew it, three more weeks had passed. His kitchen and refrigerator were now happily fully stocked. The living room was slowly coming together as well. It housed two dark leather sofas, a T.V. and a beautiful rug. The office was also furnished with a rug. InJoo still felt that it was missing something, and so she had commissioned InHye and HyoRin for paintings without telling them who they were for. Mr.Choi didn’t know about that; she was hoping to surprise him when this deal eventually ended.

His confidence in cooking had also improved. Well, at least, Mr.Choi was more open to learning new recipes with her. A small and promising change.

This particular Monday, they were visiting an estate sale at InJoo’s insistence.

As they drove through the neighborhood of tall compounds and sprawling gardens, InJoo fondly recalled doing this with InHye. They would spend whole Saturdays visiting the open houses and estate sales of opulent neighborhoods, and dream about a bigger home with kitchens that didn’t have ants and unbroken windows. Suddenly, she was overwhelmed with the need to see and hug her baby sister. InJoo did the only thing she could, she balled her hands into fists and promised herself she would call her this weekend.

They had to drive through a long private driveway hidden by trees, before finally reaching the open entrance gate. “This was quite the drive, Ms. Oh. We better leave with something worthwhile,” he groused as he parked the car. The house had enough space in front of the garage to comfortably accommodate around a couple dozen cars. Judging by the large number of parked cars, they weren’t the only potential shoppers here today.

“I’ve told you, there are just some things we won’t find at stores and rich people have great experience in finding rare and pretty things,” InJoo told him, getting distracted by the splendor of the home before her. Like many of the other homes in this community, this lot had a front lawn that stretched out until it encountered dense forestry. It was bounded by neatly trimmed hedges and flower bushes, with a stone fountain in the middle. As a little girl, she had envisioned herself living in a castle like this.

The inside too was just as refined and grandiose as the outside, with a high ceiling and a glossy floor. It had great windows to let in natural light, but the owners had also opted to light up the house further with warm ceiling lights.

Mr.Choi must’ve noticed her gawking at everything and muttered, “Just a reminder that my apartment isn’t very big.”

“I know, I know,” she said, then swept her hand around to gesture at their surroundings, “It’s just everything is so beautiful.”

“That isn’t,” he remarked dryly while nodding to the vase that sat innocuously on a console table. InJoo shifted closer to look, and ah –he was right. It was a large white hourglass shaped ceramic vase, with a repeating pattern in black ink that wrapped around its base. At first glance the pattern seemed to be made up of sequence of cylinders and spheres, but at a second subsequent glance, it was clear that the pattern was made up of clearly phallic shaped figures.

InJoo turned away with twin hot cheeks, feeling like she had just encountered an unexpected penis drawing on a school desk. She didn’t want to look at Mr.Choi, but his quiet huff of laughter drew her eyes to him. She tried to defend, “The owners have strange taste, hopefully the rest of the house won’t be the same.” Then she marched ahead, attempting to tune out the chuckles that trailed after her.

With each subsequent room they visited, InJoo was more and more amazed by the items the owners had collected. But she felt that there was a coldness present throughout the home. Not like the empty coldness that permeated through Mr. Choi’s apartment. It was more like her great aunt’s home. A bitter sort of loneliness.

They’d eventually split up, Mr.Choi wandered off to see if he liked anything in the den and InJoo stayed near the living room.

She was examining a wooden sculpture of a tiger on the fireplace when she heard an uncertain, “Oh InJoo?”

She turned around to see who had said her name then went rigid as she recognized the man in front of her. “Yu Jung? What are you doing here?”

Jung offered her a charming smile, which transported her to a decade earlier, and said “I live here. Well for another month -- we’re moving to the States soon.”

“We?”

“Ah, my wife and I,” he pointed out a tall and slender woman speaking with other potential customers on the patio.

InJoo returned his smile, “I see, I’m happy for you.”

He stepped in closer, and InJoo responded by taking a small step back. He didn’t seem to notice as he leaned in further, “It’s been so long. How have you been?”

The fireplace behind her was thankfully not on and there was still space between them, but she felt oddly trapped. She let out an awkward laugh, “I’m alright. How have you been?”

“I’m alright. Are you here alo—”

“There you are--look at this weird figurine I found,” Mr.Choi materialized at her side holding a rather irregular shaped stone and InJoo relaxed a little at his appearance.

He looked curiously between her and Jung, so she followed the hint, “Mr.Choi this is Yu Jung, the owner of this house, and Jung this is Choi DoIl, my friend.”

Jung held out his hand to Mr.Choi, who then stared down at it for an uncomfortable long second before grasping it. Mr. Choi gave him a stiff smile, “Nice to meet you.” Jung winced infinitesimally during the brief handshake.

“We were just catching up,” Jung told him. He took note of the stone in Mr. Choi’s hand. “That’s an interesting artifact, I got it when I visited Thailand about two years ago. My private tour guide referred me to a vendor, who told me it’s very rare,” he said with earnest.

InJoo nodded politely as she shifted her gaze to the ‘artifact’ -- the irregular shaped stone was a phallic shaped stone -- and then shifted her gaze to Mr.Choi’s careful stoic expression directed at Jung. She forced herself to continue nodding as she returned her attention to Jung.

Jung continued gravely, “It’s meant to symbolize the commonality between man and the divine. I was assured that it would bring great luck.”

“Indeed,” Mr.Choi returned with equal seriousness. InJoo bit her cheek to not start laughing.

“Let me know if you two have any questions.” Jung gave her another smile and grasped her shoulder, “It was nice to see you again, Oh InJoo.” InJoo could only give another nod.

After Jung had safely exited the room, she let the suppressed amusem*nt burst out of her in breathless giggles. She eventually calmed down and looked up to see Mr.Choi smiling at her. InJoo held an index finger to her lips, “Not a word.”

“I was just about to say, I feel like this could add a nice touch to my office desk. Didn’t you hear, it’s supposed to bring luck,” he told her.

She bit her upper lip to avoid laughing again.

Mr. Choi jerked his head in the direction that Jung had exited, “It seemed like you knew him, an old friend?”

And just like that, all amusem*nt bled out of her, “No worse. An ex.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah,” she scanned the room and remarked, “And to think all of this could’ve been mine.” She thought it would come out wistful, but it only sounded matter-of-fact, like she had just commented on the weather. She was surprised that she didn’t feel upset about not living here.

Neither of them said a word while they observed the room. Then after a few moments, Mr. Choi quoted Marie Kondo, “I didn’t really find anything here that sparked joy for me.”

“Neither did I, let’s go get lunch.”

Mr. Choi brought it up again during their meal. “If you don’t mind me asking, why’d you break up? With Yoon Jong?”

“Yu Jung,” she corrected him. He took a casual sip of his cold soup. “We didn’t break up, he dumped me. He said I was too simple and boring.” She watched her chopsticks move around aimlessly in her naengmyeon. “But you know? I wasn’t that upset when he ended it.”

“No?”

She gave him a brittle humorless smile, “No. I was lonely when I was with him. I thought I would be okay with it, just being a pretty thing on his arm. When he broke up with me, I felt upset for feeling relieved. I thought, ah now there goes my chance at supporting my sisters but I also felt free...does that make sense?” Whenever they’d gone out with his friends, he never spoke to her. He was never interested in anything she had to say -- he enjoyed the sound of his own voice.

“He sounds like a moron,” he told her sincerely, “And you shouldn’t feel guilty for being selfish.”

Her smile grew genuine, “Yes, I’m learning that now.” A small part of her wondered if she’d forever lost her chances at finding a partner. Maybe everyone got the handful of tries, and she’d foolishly gambled them all away. The notion was silly, she knew, but it bounced around in her head on occasion.

Mr.Choi’s eyes gleamed with mischief, “At least you aren’t stuck with a man who seems obsessed with phallic imagery.”

“He’s not obsessed.”

“When we were leaving, I saw a small crew of stones near the rose bushes. They all shared an interesting shape. Now I’m wondering if we missed any other references in the house.”

“He just seems…misguided.”

“Yes, he’s very dedicated to exploring the commonality of man and the divine.”

InJoo let out a loud undignified snort, and immediately covered her mouth with her hands. Mr.Choi grinned smugly across from her.

Two weeks later

InJoo leisurely breathed in the sea air and sipped her tea.

“You seem … different, Ms.Oh.”

InJoo looked over at Mrs. Ahn, who was sitting on the balcony next to her with yet another knitting project in her hands. Her friend seemed to have gained more strength in the last couple of weeks. InJoo brushed back the strands of hair the sea breeze insisted on playing with, “What do you mean?”

“You seem more at ease,” her tone bordered on foreboding. “Anything interesting happening in your life?”

InJoo straightened in her chair, “Not much I suppose.” Except that she and Mr.Choi were spending more time together – for the sake of his apartment. “My sister’s exhibition went well. My other sister is eleven months sober now!” Mr. Choi had a lovely dining table set now, mahogany with leather seats. “My friend, Jiho, gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, I can show you photos--”

“Hmm,” Mrs. Ahn finished the last stitch of the row and lowered the knit to her lap. She lifted a keen stare to InJoo’s face, “Nice updates to hear, I suppose, from other people’s lives.”

“They are important people to me.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Ahn inclined her head, “I saw an interesting sight when I visited Seoul in the past week. Would you like to hear about it?”

“Sure.” InJoo found her companion’s gaze too pointed, and so opted to enjoy the coastal view. Still, she could feel a sting on her cheekbone, as if a fly was stubbornly attempting to burrow beneath her skin. “Seoul is a big city, I’m sure there are many things to see there.”

“My son cooked for me. There were multiple side dishes.”

“That sounds nice, was it a good meal?” she pressed her lips together and concentrated on a sailboat bobbing gently in the distance.

“It was fantastic,” Mrs. Ahn snapped. “Everything was seasoned perfectly; it was one of the most filling meals I’ve ever had.”

InJoo needed to tread carefully, “Ah.”

“His apartment looks normal now.”

“I had no idea he had an apartment in the city.”

“He decorated – he even has a center piece for his dining table,” Mrs. Ahn told her as though she couldn’t believe her son decided to take his mother’s advice.

“That’s good.”

“Yes, it is good, isn’t it, Ms. Oh?”

It was a trick question, so InJoo wisely kept quiet.

“I learned that I have you to thank for these new changes,” Mrs. Ahn accused her.

InJoo wasn’t sure if she was supposed to feel appreciated or guilty. She jumped to denial, “It’s not what you think—”

Mrs. Ahn cut her off with a gentle shake of her head, “No, no, don’t deny it Ms. Oh. I’m happy that he’s not living in a homemade prison cell. I just wanted to remind you of a conversation we had, I’m sure you remember?”

InJoo refused to look at Mrs. Ahn, “About how we aren’t right for each other?”

“Yes,” she sounded sympathetic. “I care about you and I don’t want you to get attached.”

InJoo clenched her jaw and frowned out at the horizon. “We’re friends,” she began, and in her peripheral she saw Mrs. Ahn open her mouth, and she held up a hand to stop the interruption. “Please let me finish---we’re friends so I helped him.” She gritted her teeth before continuing, “And I accept that maybe we won’t be right for each other.” Although she wished for more, InJoo was content with their friendship. It was enough. And because she was his friend, she needed to protect his interests, “I have to wonder though, what kind of person do you think is right for your son?” She turned to finally look at Mrs.Ahn.

At her companion’s lack of response, InJoo continued, “He deserves to be happy with someone too.” Even if that person wasn’t her. “It’s not fair for you to project what happened in your life onto him.” She’d spent much time pondering over her conversations with Mrs. Ahn and the senior Mr. Choi. They might have had a point about InJoo and Mr. Choi not being compatible. But they also hadn’t seen him since he was a child, for two decades they’d spent more time ruminating over their own mistakes than learning about him. Not that their respective situations gave them the choice, but still.

Mrs. Ahn still hadn’t said anything, in fact she’d been staring down at her lap with stiff shoulders since InJoo had started speaking. InJoo grew regretful, worrying perhaps she had crossed a line in the heat of her anger. “Mrs. Ahn, I’m sorry if I –”

“No,” the older woman regarded her thoughtfully, “No, you’re right, perhaps I’m guilty of being blinded by my own life. As for your question, I suppose I would be happy if he found someone who could make him happy.” Her eyes gained a strange knowing quality, “Be careful.” Funny, that was what Mr. Choi’s father had given her when she’d told him about his son’s apartment project.

Glad to have that conversation done, she sunk low in her seat and rested her head on the back of the patio chair to take in the clear blue sky.

“Ms. Oh,” she heard Mrs.Ahn tentatively say, “Now let me see these baby photos you mentioned.”

One week later

“InHa,” InJoo said searching for her patience, “If we do this problem set, you’ll be done for the day. Don’t you want that? Wouldn’t you like to go home and watch your ladybug show?”

The little girl sitting next to her stopped playing with her pencil to glare up at InJoo, “Ms.Oh, its Miraculous Ladybug.”

“Right, that’s what I meant, now if we finish this then you get to go home,” InJoo clapped her hands and let her eyes grow wide with false excitement, “You want that don’t you?”

InHa slid her skeptical glance and whined, “But addition is so boring.”

“This is the last one, see there’s only eight problems and then you’ll be done!”

“Fine.” Her student let out a sigh that should’ve belonged to an office worker who’d just learned they would have to stay overtime for the fourth time that week.

“Awesome! See now let’s review what we just learned about double digit addition…,” InJoo trailed off after noticing InHa’s eyes glaze over. She’d lost her already. “InHa?”

“Ms.Oh,” InHa dreamily told her, “Your hair reminds me of my dog.”

“What?”

InHa made a grabbing motion at her hair, and InJoo moved back to avoid it, “You’ve got shaggy curly hair like my dog.”

InJoo heard a distinct short bark of a laugh a shelf over from where they were sitting. She whipped her head toward the shelves to catch the culprit that had enjoyed their amusem*nt at her expense. She sighed not finding anyone and then said to InHa, “For every problem you get right in this set, I’ll let you put a dog sticker on my face.”

That proved to be a much better motivator.

After her session, InJoo walked towards the suspicious shelves, and there, at the other end of the aisle, was Mr.Choi lounging on an egg shaped seat. With quick strides, she found herself before him, and nudged her foot against one of his, “You’re here early.”

He looked up from his phone with a teasing grin, “My meeting ended early.”

“What was it about?”

“Business.” She knew he wouldn’t give her anything beyond that, she’d tried over the last few weeks, but he never budged. She didn’t try to ask him further questions, it would be a futile effort.

He squinted at her hair, “It does remind me of some type of dog, I can’t put my finger on it.”

She reached up to self-consciously touch her hair, “Alright, I think I have enough signs to go get my hair permanently straightened.”

“Don’t, I like your hair,” his grin dropped, and he grew a little startled, “I mean, it’s your hair – I’m sure you’ll look great with whatever style you choose—you don’t hav--”

“Thanks,” she interrupted, taking pity on him.

“Right,” he said, then gave his knees a pat before standing up. “Right. Well, I guess we should go. My meeting ended early, so I’m here early.”

InJoo was now immensely entertained, “You’ve already said that.”

“Have I? Well, no time to waste, let’s go,” he relieved her of her book bag and marched briskly towards the exit.

“Mr.Choi, wait,” she huffed a laugh and tried to keep up with his pace.

InJoo had found a coffee table on Facebook Marketplace and they’d planned to check it out today. It was perfect for him, it evem had a compartment to store whiskey tumblers and wine glasses. She’d sung praises about it to him all week, and she hoped that it would live up to the expectations.

He raised an eyebrow at her, “This better be worth it.”

She rolled her eyes and knocked on the apartment door. They heard something crash and a muffled curse. They both frowned at the door curiously, and Mr.Choi shifted to stand slightly in front of her. There were a few more ambiguous banging noises before the door burst open to present a tall man with messy hair. InJoo imagined he had the potential to be handsome if he cleaned up.

She gave him a friendly smile, “Hello! I’m Oh InJoo, I inquired about the coffee table on sale. This is my friend, Choi DoIl.”

The man glanced from Mr. Choi to InJoo, then held his hand out to her, “Yes! Yes! Of course, and I’m Park DaeSung” He beamed at her and shook her hand with vigor, “You’re even prettier in person, if you don’t mind me saying so!”

“Thank you,” InJoo blushed at the compliment and awkwardly glanced down at him still shaking her hand.

He didn’t pick up the hint, “You’ll love the table, it’s in great shape. The polish is intact, and the glass has no scratches.”

“That’s great,” Mr.Choi said unamused, “Can we see it now?” That seemed to break him out of whatever trance trapped him and he let go of her hand.

“Yes, yes,” he stood aside to let them in and closed the door. Then he seemed content to smile amicably at InJoo.

She reminded him politely, “Mr.Park, the table?”

“Right! Right this way!” He spun on his feet and guided them out of the entryway. He accidently hit his foot on the corner of the wall while taking a left and hopped away on his other uninjured foot, “Watch out for that!”

She heard Mr. Choi say under his breath, “Well, this is off to a promising start.”

InJoo shushed him and followed their host. Mr.Park’s small apartment was messy, with piles of unidentifiable clutter distributed everywhere. They gingerly maneuvered around the stuff, it seemed that everything here was in a fragile state of balance.

“So here it is,” Mr.Park told her and waved a hand towards the coffee table tucked away in the corner. InJoo carefully made her way to the table, and lowered herself to inspect it. Mr.Park had also moved to stand near her. “This table is in good condition.”

“I said so didn’t I? So, are you buying the table for yourself?” he peered down at her.

Mr. Choi responded before she could, “No, it’s for me.”

Mr.Park jerked his head towards him, as though he had just noticed Mr.Choi’s presence, “Is that right?”

InJoo got up and nervously observed the changes in Mr.Park. His eyes seemed to grow acute as he regarded Mr.Choi. She tried to see what he saw: expensive suit, expensive watch, expensive haircut.

Mr.Choi raised his brows, “So what’s the price?”

Mr.Park stroked his jaw with a hand, “One point four million won.”

InJoo’s eyes widened in alarm and exclaimed, “That’s ridiculous! That’s nearly three times the price you quoted to me.”

“Hey, you said so yourself that the table was in good condition – this is what I think it’s worth.”

She wanted to slap herself for opening her mouth at all. Her stomach rolled, she had made a big deal about finding a vintage table for such a great price and argued against buying one from a furniture store. She couldn’t let this happen. Thinking back to Mr.Park’s earlier demeanor, a potential plan sprung into her mind, “Surely we can negotiate.”

“No can do, Ms. Oh.”

InJoo dug deep within herself to pull out her most beguiling smile for him, “Surely, we can? You seem like such a friendly man, Mr.Park!”

Mr.Park’s eyes took on a hazy effect, and her heart quivered hopefully at this development. He said faintly, “I am?”

Mr.Choi’s cautious voice cut in,“Ms.Oh---”. InJoo shot him a quick glare to stop frowning and to stop talking, her plan was flimsy enough even without his intrusions.

“Yes,” she maintained her charming smile and shifted closer to Mr. Park but left a foot of space. Now her back was to Mr. Choi and Mr. Park could only focus on her. “I don’t like strangers, but you instantly put me at ease.”

“I’m told I have a way about me,” he laughed. This was good, she needed to reel him in just a little bit more.

“Even from your messages, I thought – this seller seems very dependable!”

“Well, I did score the best in my salesmanship class in college,” he leaned in her direction.

“That’s really impressive,” she needed to be careful now, “Mr.Park, I really, really like this table, it reminds me of the one my great aunt had, surely you know how important a connection like that is?”

He nodded reverently, “I understand completely, it’s like being back with them.”

“I knew you would understand! I feel like we have so much in common already. So surely, you can understand that we need to negotiate to a lower price?”

“I agree with that---,” ah how the tune had changed, “—what price are you thinking?”

InJoo’s smile stretched into a flirtatious territory, “Four-hundred thousand won?”

“Sure, that seems like a reasonable enough price, say Ms.Oh are you free—”

“How should I pay you?” Mr.Choi’s voice cracked out like a whip, and InJoo stepped away from Mr.Park satisfied that her last minute plan worked.

Mr.Park stumbled back, “Right let me get my phone.”

She cast a smug smirk at Mr. Choi behind Mr.Park’s back, but he only regarded her with sullenness. She didn’t think she had done anything wrong; she brought the price back down in their favor. Was he upset that perhaps he hadn’t gotten the final say? But he had, he approved the table before they came here and he just offered to pay. Distantly, she wondered if he was jealous---but that was also not possible, there was nothing here that would inspire that? She had obviously only led the man on to make him change his mind.

Her mind continued to puzzle over it during their quiet car ride to the restaurant for an early dinner.

“I appreciate what you did, but that was completely unnecessary,” he told his whiskey tumbler.

They’re sitting at the bar and she appreciated how the warm mood lights cast favorable shadows on his face. She did not appreciate his sulky attitude. They should be happy that they’d scored him another great addition to his home, but here they were, both tense because he refused to spell out what he was thinking.

“He was about to charge you three times the price—”

“---I can afford pay that ---”

“---but that’s not the point! He only did that because he thought you were rich not because the table was worth that much—”

“---I am rich, Ms.Oh, thanks to you—”

“—I don’t understand why you’re so upset—”

“I’m not upset,” he bit out and finally looked at her. “I’m not upset,” he continued gentler, “I just think the flirting was not necessary, I could’ve negotiated the price down.”

“What is the difference between you doing it and me doing it? Either way we get the same result,” she said, frustrated.

“Yes, well I wouldn’t need to flirt.”

She grumbled, “Whatever,” and took a sip of her co*cktail. She was ready to move past this confusing conversation. InJoo let the subsequent awkward silence build up out of pettiness.

“You’ve never flirted with me.” It was a statement, but he said it like it was a question.

She peeked at him, bewildered, “Pardon?”

“Well we had multiple deals, and you’ve never flirted with me to negotiate them.”

“I guess I wasn’t myself at that time, I was also afraid of you I think.”

He stiffened, “Afraid of me?”

“I didn’t know much about you and I thought my friend had died,” she defended.

He nodded, “Are you afraid of me now?”

She breathed out a light laugh, “Not at all.” They were more at ease now, Mr.Choi’s hand was no longer clenched around his drink and she wasn’t as annoyed as before. “Wait, are you implying that if I had flirted with you then, you might have given me a bigger cut? Or given me more information?”

He shook his head and chuckled, “Please Ms. Oh, give me a little credit, your smile is pretty, but I wouldn’t have been swayed by it.” He swirled his drink and then took a sip.

She scraped her thumbnail against the stem of her glass in annoyance. His comment roused an urge to do anything to make him swallow his words, and for the second time that day, InJoo was struck by an interesting idea. She swallowed a significant gulp of her martini for luck, and swiveled her bar seat to her right so she could face Mr.Choi. His eyebrows quirked upwards at her sudden movement.

InJoo let the warm mood lights sink into her skin and compelled her limbs to relax. This would only work if she appeared calm, but it seemed impossible to do when she could feel her heart beating in her throat. She controlled her voice to a casual note, “Is that a new watch?”

“Had it for a while,” he shrugged. His focus flickered around the restaurant, behind the bar, to her, then starting the protocol again. He did this often whenever they went out in public, always scanning the surroundings for any suspicious activity. InJoo figured it must be a residual habit from one of his previous occupations.

They usually sat angled towards each other, but in their fight(?) – squabble(?) they’d opted to face the bar instead, but perhaps it could work in her favor. She slid an inch more forward in her seat. The bar stools were placed rather close to begin with, and so her current position let her knees brush his left thigh and let his woodsy cologne mix with her floral notes to create a faint but intoxicating scent. She allowed it wash over her, settle around her like a soft, thin blanket and willed her heart to stop pounding at his proximity.

When they touched, Mr. Choi’s gaze snapped from his perusal to land on her face. There were near imperceptible twitches in his eyebrows and the corner of his lips before being smoothed away by a vaguely befuddled expression. InJoo knew his quick wit would clue him into what she was up to, so she needed to act carefully and precisely – for the sake of her pride, this had to work. It would, if she could stop being distracted by him.

InJoo blinked her eyes away from his face to his left hand that rested on the edge of the bar. He had rolled his sleeves up today, lucky her. Her finger reached out and traced the outer frame of his wristwatch. In her peripheral, she saw him put down his tumbler but kept his right hand loosely cupped around it. She gathered all her courage and started, “This is a nice watch, where did you get it?”

“I don’t remember.” His voice unfortunately revealed nothing.

She rested her elbow on the edge of the bar, and sat her cheek in her hand, this position steadied her and brought her in further into his space. “I wanted to get one for JongHo, for his birthday. Is it multi-purpose?”

“Yes.”

She hummed, “How practical.” Then her voice lowered and grew a tad breathy, “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” Her eyes flicked back to his expression.

There was a faint dent between his brows, and he was observing her with half lidded eyes. “What do you mean?” Then he angled his torso and leaned in towards her, and the restaurant fell away. Her world now only consisted of herself and Mr.Choi.

Their physical relationship never exceeded beyond platonic shoulder touches and small nudges to get each other’s attention. This was the closest she had been with him, so her stomach was understandably in knots. She felt like she was grappling in the dark. But InJoo pushed through. She slid her eyes back to her hand, her fingers skated over his skin near the watch and wrapped around his wrist to turn his forearm, so his open palm faced up.

Her thumb brushed the watch strap, then swiped at the smooth skin of his wrist. She heard him take a sharp inhale, or maybe she’d imagined, either way it bolstered her to rest her palm, so the base touched the surface of the bar and the rest laid against his warm forearm. His fingers curled inwards in response. There was a faint song playing in the background. InJoo traced small invisible circles into the underside of his wrist in beat with the music. “I just meant that you’re so prepared for everything, it makes sense for you to have a watch like this. A practical watch for a practical man. That’s what I‘ve always liked about you, you know?”

“What?” his voice had lowered as well, both in pitch and intensity. Strange, that it seemed to calm her fraught stomach and at the same time, start a low heat below her naval.

“That you’re so grounded. So rational.”

“It sounds boring.”

She puffed a short laugh and curved her lips into a genuine smile. InJoo looked up at him from below her lashes, “To me, it’s not boring at all.” She wasn’t sure if it was the lights, but it seemed like there was pink in his cheek and his ears.

“No?”

“No, it’s reassuring.” She bit the seam of her lower lip, and Mr.Choi watched the action through slitted eyes for a second and flicked his attention to her finger’s motions. The heat in her grew to a simmer. “It means that you are always present and have a plan. You always have plans don’t you Mr.Choi?”

He murmured, “Force of habit.”

InJoo skated her gaze down to his throat, and she distantly wondered if he blushed like she did --how much of his skin would become pink? Hopefully she wasn’t flushed right now. “Always planning for something, aren’t you?”

“It’s smart to have plans.”

“Of course,” she said softly, then swallowed, “Was your meeting from this afternoon one of your plans?” She moved her finger to trace circles into his palm and his fingers opened for her like a blooming flower.

“It was.”

“What was it about?”

“It was an interview. I’m starting a position as a fund manager for a small firm.”

“You are?!” she squawked and pulled her hand away from his. He jerked back as well, and his eyes lost their sheen. Did this mean he was going to stick around for a while?

He coughed into his fist, then took a considerable swig from his glass, “I’m just trying it out. To see how it goes.”

She beamed at him, “That’s great! I’m so excited for you!”

He tilted his chin down and his mouth twitched into a smile.

“But you were involved in the slush fund case, they didn’t think badly of you?”

“Technically I operated in favor of Sang Ah’s interests. And people have short memory spans.”

InJoo nodded pensively, then she smirked and arched an eyebrow at him, “And what was that about you not being swayed by me?”

He finished his drink, and gestured to the bartender for another, “You just caught me off guard.”

“That sounds like an excuse,” she scoffed.

“I thought you couldn’t lie.”

She settled back in her seat and sipped her martini. InJoo missed the warmth from being near him. “I didn’t lie, I meant it all.”

“Ah.”

“So, when do you start your new job?”

one week later

HyoRin insisted, “So yes, you all need to listen to this album, I’ve had it on repeat all week.”

“Yes, she has,” InHye cut in, her expression implied that she did not feel the same way about this album.

“It’s a total vibe!”

“A vibe?” InJoo’s English had improved, but some words still confused her.

JongHo explained, “It’s like an emotion you would feel from something.”

“Ohhh,” InJoo noted down the word to search it up later.

“Slang is so hard to keep up with,” InKyung complained. “All my coworkers always speak in idioms.”

“You’ve picked it up pretty well though,” her boyfriend encouraged her.

“And American English is always so redundant!”

“Like how?” HyoRin asked.

“Like ‘Horseback riding’, which means to ride on a horse, but why specify that it has to be on the back of the horse?”

InHye laughed, “Where else would the person ride?”

“On the legs?” InJoo asked amused. Everyone on the call chuckled at the image.

“You seem happier,” InHye commented.

InKyung asked, “Who are you talking to?”

“Well I guess everyone does seem happier, but I was referring to InJoo Unnie.”

InJoo blinked away the remaining laughter, “What do you mean?”

“No I agree,” HyoRin said, “Your vibes have been kind of different lately.”

InHye’s eyes seemed to bore into her from the screen, “Have you been trying anything new?”

“Not really,” InJoo replied. There was an obvious answer to that question, but she’d kept it hushed up from them to avoid judgement. But now she was irritated with herself, there was nothing to be ashamed of. She enjoyed spending time with Mr.Choi, and she wouldn’t be made to feel guilty for it. With unwavering confidence, she told them, “I’ve been helping Mr.Choi decorate his place. It’s been fun.” Maybe she sounded too defensive, but it was out there now.

“What!” InKyung yelled. JungHo winced beside her and made a gesture to lower her voice. Chastised, InKyung repeated, “What.”

“I’ve been spending time with Mr.Choi.”

“But he’s--,” she spluttered and waved her hand around.

InJoo glared at her camera, “He’s a good, kind man. He helped us. And he’s my friend.”

InKyung glared at her as well, and started, “He is a --,” but stopped when JungHo took her hand and conveyed some type of telepathic message to her. InKyung’s frown deepened before she sighed. InJoo held a bated breath to see what she would say. Her sister gave her a tired smile, “If you’re happy, then I’m happy. I … Can you please be careful?”

InJoo sagged with relief. She didn’t need her sister’s approval, but it was nice to not have anything to hide from her, “I will.”

“I knew it,” InHye declared. “I knew it.” HyoRin elbowed her, so she added, “And I’m happy for you too.”

InJoo smiled, “HyoRin why don’t you play one of the songs for us?” InHye’s subsequent groan of dismay was satisfying.

one week later

This late summer heat was unbearable. The fact that Mr.Choi’s air conditioner was broken made it worse. His building manager assured him that it would be fixed before the end of the day.

“We could’ve done this another time,” Mr.Choi grumbled as he finished driving in the screw and sat back on his heels. They were assembling a bookshelf for his home office.

“Then you would’ve had to deal with a huge box taking up space in your apartment,” she argued while she looked at the instruction sheet to figure out what to do next. “And we’re mostly done, we can’t give up now.”

“Let’s take a break.” He ran a hand through his hair, and InJoo tried not to ogle at the way his biceps flexed. The heat had forced him to abandon his usual formal attire in favor of a white undershirt and gym pants. The way the shirt hugged his torso made InJoo’s mouth dry. Today was truly a trial.

“Yes let’s,” she dropped the instructions and got up to follow him out of the home office.

InJoo sat down in front of the open balcony doors. It was too hot to sit outside in the afternoon sun, but the gentle breeze flowing in cooled her skin.

“Here,” something cold nudged her shoulder.

She looked up to see Mr.Choi offering her an ice cream bar. Bemused, she took it, “I didn’t know you had ice cream.” She opened the package and gingerly bit into the chocolate shell.

He sat down next to her, far enough that they wouldn’t accidentally brush elbows, but close enough to let her enjoy the warmth radiating from him. Cracking open his beer, he replied, “It’s the kind you like, right?”

“Yeah.” It was the kind she’d splurged on when she’d first found the two billion. “Thanks.”

They lapsed into a companionable silence, listening to the traffic noises from below. She stared aimlessly at the blue sky, mentally listing everything she needed to do this week while enjoying her ice cream. Drop by JiHo’s to make sure she was doing okay. InJoo gave her ice cream a leisure lick and savored the cold mix of strawberry cream and chocolate shell. Call InHye to see how her doctor check in went. She took a bite and rolled it around in her mouth. Finish the English homework. She swirled the tip of her tongue around the exposed cream and licked in a chunk. InJoo heard a hacking cough to her left and she swiveled her head to him in concern.

“Are you alright—”

“I’m fine,” he waved her off still coughing, “It just went down the wrong tube.”

“Look up at the ceiling,” she instructed, “It’ll help.”

He shook his head, “I’m fine.”

They lapsed into silence again. And she peeked at him from time to time. She revisited the scene from the bar often, like rewatching an old favorite movie. She was concerned that maybe she had made him uncomfortable, but he didn’t behave any differently around her. Except perhaps she thought that he looked at her more. Differently. Or perhaps it was wishful thinking.

She felt a bead of sweat rolling down the side of her neck, and it left a strange burning trail in its wake. InJoo twisted her neck and lifted a hand to wipe it off. She glanced at Mr.Choi again and found him scowling down at his beer bottle. Amused, she asked, “What did it do to you to make you that upset?”

Mr.Choi studied her for a moment, “Nothing.” He squinted beyond the balcony.

A cold drop of ice fell into her cotton pants, and she cursed internally while observing the melted ice cream mess in her hand. Maybe this was what had irritated him, he was always so particular about being clean. InJoo had learned this after she’d started helping him with the apartment. Even though it was empty, she hadn’t found a speck of dust. His closet, or what she’d seen of it, had been neatly organized by item, then by color. That was when she remembered the time that she’d opened her laptop to show him her latest finding about the slush fund and caught a undiscernible expression on his face. But after knowing this trait, she figured that he must’ve been wincing at her disorganized desktop.

The Oh family embodied an organized chaos. They had their own small universes where they maintained order. InHye treated and stored her art materials with the care of a mother handling her first-born child. Their mother, by nature, was a mess but she’d ruled the kitchen with an iron fist. There was a specific place for every spice and every pot, and if anyone disobeyed, they all had to pay. Even in her current home, InJoo had defaulted to her mother’s order. For InJoo it had been finances. She had kept and catalogued every bill and every receipt that related to their family.

She got up to get a tissue from the kitchen to clean herself up.

InJoo dawdled in the kitchen to admire Mr. Choi’s back. She hated that her cotton blouse was currently stuck to her back with sweat, but she was grateful that his shirt was doing the same to him.

It wasn’t that InJoo hadn’t thought about sex with him – she had. She had held herself back because she didn’t know how he perceived her. But now she might have an idea. He thought of her as a good friend. And since her plan had surprisingly worked on him, she supposed he was attracted to her – to some extent. So, it was only natural then, that her mind (or her heart?) decided to reconsider her friend’s idea. Seduction was a stretch, but perhaps something in between?

He turned around, “Ready to get back to work?”

Not expecting him to do that, she became flustered. InJoo hurriedly scanned the kitchen and realized that she likely looked more foolish doing that. Resigned, she told him, “Yes, let’s finish it.”

Chapter 5: the one where InJoo makes a move

Chapter Text

InJoo, like any other adult, hated doing the dishes. It was an endless trial. However, today’s session was proving to be somewhat helpful in puzzling over her current dilemma.

InJoo had always been an impulsive person, but she’d grown out of the tendency to jump headfirst into Bad Ideas by her early twenties. Burned by experience, InJoo had learned to look at a Bad Idea in its face and to say you sound exciting, but I don’t think that you would be good for me and then walk away.

Or so she told herself.

Because impulsivity had been ingrained into her nature in the same way tenacity was ingrained in InKyung. They couldn’t escape their nature.

InJoo tried. She thought out the pros and cons of actions when possible -- unless her heart had taken executive control and decided that listing pros and cons was a waste of time when she could just do it and see what happens. This happened more often than she wanted to admit.

All of this was to say, that InJoo was worried about the dangers of another Bad Idea. A Mr.Choi shaped Bad Idea.

She blamed Mr. Choi’s shirt for the current dilemma. Specifically, the white shirt he’d worn when they had been assembling his bookshelf. White was supposed to symbolize purity. Nothing about that shirt was pure.

It had been going well. Sure, her self-control was being tested, but apart from that, everything else was fine. Despite the many different pieces, the instructions were straightforward. And then Mr.Choi had gone to move the books from the top of his file cabinet to the finished bookshelf. When he had moved his arms up, his shirt followed the motion and had ridden up -- granting her an enticing flash of his lower abdomen.

Her heartbeat predictably sped up at the sight. That combined with the heat already present in the room had turned her face red. So red, that upon looking at her face, Mr.Choi asked if she was having a heat stroke. (Looking back, she wondered if anyone having a heat stroke would be able to communicate that.) Her throat had gone completely dry as well, so she’d rasped out an excuse and had fled to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face.

It was ridiculous, she’d seen men naked before. He hadn’t even been shirtless. The flash had barely lasted half a second. The reaction had been completely overboard and embarrassing, she rolled her eyes at her body’s dramatics.

So, yes, she blamed that despicable shirt. InJoo roughly scrubbed the pan, angry at the mere thought of it.

She also blamed SooJung for putting the Bad Idea in her head at all.

That Incident had been two weeks ago. And since then, every time she saw him, she was mentally haunted by a single whisper, you should f*ck him . The idea of seduction and sex had only been casually tossed around in her head, but this Incident had escalated the Bad Idea to a near-constant reminder.

The Bad Idea in question, was unquestionably risky.

Her friends had been helpful, their plan did consider the two main possibilities. They do it. If he stayed, then they could try out the relationship. Or he leaves and she would be free to get over him.

Except, that her friends didn’t know that she didn’t want to mess this up. What would happen to their friendship if he rejected her? She would be okay to continue being just friends, though surely it would create some awkwardness.

If it had been any other man, she wouldn’t even need to hesitate. But this was Mr.Choi.

He always listened to whatever she had to say, he’d never made her feel less than. Before with the orchid society, he’d been so patient with her, -- even when she hadn’t made smart decisions. InJoo knows from experience, there aren’t many people like that. She liked his company; he was funnier than she’d remembered. She liked making him laugh too. She just liked being with him, even if they just sat in silence. Their relationship was far too valuable to be fumbled with like an impulsive child.

But. But. Her friends also had a point about her getting over him. She’d been content with the worm, but for how long could she really live like that? She didn’t even know why she’d thought she’d be content with just growing old with an idea of a person in her heart to keep her company. Really why was she holding herself back from moving on? Because the worm wouldn’t betray her? Why did she have to depend on some arbitrary worm when she could just depend on herself?

InJoo huffed as she set aside the washed cup in the dish tray. She could do the same with herself, as she had been doing for a long time. She wouldn’t betray herself. She wouldn’t run away from herself. She didn’t need any worms.

And InJoo still didn’t know how long he would be around; she had tried to ask him how long he intended to work at his new job. He’d only replied that he would work as long as it suited him. She was almost annoyed enough to flirt the answer out of him, but the last time she’d tried that, it had ended up affecting her as well. She might actually end up embarrassing herself if she tried again.

Wouldn’t it be better to satisfy her curiosity before he left?

The idea was clearly a Bad Idea for many reasons.

But like most bad ideas, it was also very tempting. And she’d always been an impulsive person. And her heart hosted a Mr. Choi shaped worm.

One week later

How had three months gone by? Despite her disbelief, his place seemed to show the three months of effort. It looked lived in.

They were celebrating the start of his new job at his apartment. He had cooked. InJoo was proud of him, he’d come a long way from fussing over an omelet. The spread looked photogenic and tasted just as good.

This was a bittersweet evening for her, it marked an end to their deal. He would likely be too busy to see her again, and he might leave at any time as well. InJoo was hyperaware of her window of opportunity closing.

She’d made up her mind, she would just ask him. They were adults and it was just sex. It didn’t feel like a stark jump, probably because they had spent so much time together these last few weeks. If he rejected her, she’d tell him she was okay with just being friends. And if he didn’t want that either, then so be it. She’d mourn for their friendship like she’d mourned for her friendship with HwaYoung and move on. She could do it.

“Everything ok?”

She jerked her head up from her dessert, “Yes!” Her stomach clenched, she needed to ask him soon, the meal was nearly over.

Mr.Choi tilted his head and regarded her thoughtfully, “You haven’t spoken much, did something happen?”

She forced a smile, “No! Er-Not much.” She swallowed, “I guess I – uh ha ha – it’s silly…I was feeling sad that we finished filling the apartment. I’m happy that you aren’t living in an empty one anymore!”

His eyebrows twitched towards each other, “We could still see each other, I’ll be here.”

“Right, of course, but you’re starting your job this week, aren’t you? I wouldn’t want to –”

“There’ll always be time for us to meet.” Her heart fluttered at the resolute promise.

“Right,” she took a big bite of the cake, and then feeling a crumb on her top lip, flicked her tongue out to get it. “Where did you get this cake?”

“From the bakery you mentioned, the one near Namdaemun Market.”

“Ah, I see, it’s very good!” She cringed internally at how pitchy she sounded.

His eyes seemed narrow down into one spot on her face and the left corner of her lips burned from his attention. “You have frosting on your face,” he murmured.

An uninvited blush rose into her face, “Ah!” InJoo got up and winced when she managed to bang her knee near the edge of the table in the process. “I’ll just go to the restroom!”

He stared at her in confusion, “You have a napkin—”

“No!” She lowered her voice, “No, thanks! That’s okay, I really need to go – I mean not like – I just – I need the restroom!”

Making a successful escape, she leaned back on the closed bathroom door.

She needed to just calm down.

This was ridiculous.

That stupid, stupid shirt.

Really, it was all the building manager’s fault for not fixing the air conditioner. Irresponsible.

InJoo braced her hand on the counter and stared herself down in the mirror. The bathroom smelled faintly of his cologne, and she breathed it in and let it slow her heart to a resting pace. This would be okay. Everything would be okay. She could handle whatever would happen. Her friends believed she could, so she should trust herself. Maybe if she said it enough, InJoo would believe it.

A sudden knock at the door startled a yelp out of her.

“Ms.Oh, are you doing okay? You’ve been in there for a while ---”

“Yes!” She squeaked. “I’ll be out soon, no need to worry!” She needed to stop dragging this out and just ask him. Oh InJoo was not a coward.

With one last encouraging nod from her reflection, she opened the door and became startled again when she found him standing right near the entrance. He stepped back surprised. She said, “Sorry I didn’t know you were—”

He coughed into his fist, “No it’s all good.”

They returned to their table, and Mr.Choi pointed out again, “You still have the frosting on your face.”

Embarrassed, she aggressively wiped her mouth with the napkin next to her plate. It would be like peeling off a band-aid. She linked her hands and placed them on her lap, then straightened her spine and looked at him, “I have something to say.”

“No one is stopping you,” he said, concerned.

“I – We’re friends.”

“Yes, I should hope so.”

“We’re friends, and I –” she broke off and stared down at the plate trying to gather the right words, but her brain wasn’t helping. She turned to her tyrannical heart for help, “We’ve gotten to know each other well in the past few months, and I appreciate our friendship.” That was greeted with silence, and she still didn’t want to look up at him. She trudged forward, “I’m attracted to you. I was wondering if you would be interested in having sex. With me? I understand that your plans are not set in stone, so it can be no strings attached—”

“No strings attached?”

She nodded, “Yes, like a fling?”

“A fling.”

She glanced up from her plate and saw him stiffly holding his spoon, his eyes unreadable but fixated on her. The eye contact was not safe at this time, “Like a fling. I would understand if you don’t want to! If you say no, we can forget that I ever asked this, and we can just continue our friendship as it is now.”

Neither of them said anything for several minutes. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, like a gavel being banged to seal her fate. It felt like hours. InJoo slowly got up, and finally brought herself to look at him, but he was staring down at his plate, “You don’t have to answer now – let me know what you decide. I think I should head back now.”

InJoo couldn’t get out of there fast enough; she made her way to the entryway to get her shoes.

“It’s late, I can drop you off—” He followed her.

“No! It’s fine, I can take a cab.” She opened the door and stepped out. InJoo turned around and offered a regretful smile, “I really am glad that I got to help you with your home. Thank you for asking me.”

Mr.Choi returned a brittle smile, “Thank you. For helping.” Then after a moment, “Text me when you get home.”

She nodded.

InJoo leaned her head against the cab window, her throat tight and a pit of remorse growing in her stomach. She hoped that she hadn’t ruined it all. She cursed the shirt. And she cursed herself.

The next morning found InJoo staring aimlessly at the ceiling. She hadn’t gotten any sleep. She wondered if there was any way for her to take it back, or maybe erase time and memory. A ding notified her of a new text message.

InJoo closed her eyes, hoping to put off the inevitable rejection. Sighing deeply, she rolled over and picked up her phone to check.

I’m interested.

Her thumb forcefully brushed at her screen. The characters didn’t get erased. She hadn’t messed it up.

The pit in her stomach morphed into a new feeling, a combination of nervousness, and excitement.

They’d agreed to meet three days later, on Friday evening. She asked to meet at her apartment.

Her friends had made her promise to tell them all the lurid details.

On Thursday morning, SooJung had unexpectedly shown up with a wrapped present.

It was a box of condoms.

She had such thoughtful friends.

Promptly at 7pm, there was a knock at her apartment door.

She downed her glass of red wine in one gulp and let out a shaky breath. This would be fine.

InJoo got up, and smoothed down her midi skirt to erase any wrinkles and to wipe her sweaty palms. When she opened her door, she was greeted by a man that looked like Mr.Choi except this man was missing his trademark clean-cut look. His hair was messy, his eyes wore bags and his shirt was untucked. His shirt was always tucked.

“Hey,” the Mr.Choi impersonator said with a tired smile.

Peeved and worried, InJoo asked him, “What happened to you?”

“Can I come in?”

She stood aside to let him through.

Mr.Choi walked a few steps, then pivoted and turned around to look at her. He had a befuddled expression, his gaze flickered over her face and then shifted to scan the rest of the room. “Can I have a glass of water, please?”

“Of course!”

She handed him a large glass of water, which he promptly guzzled it as though he’d gone days without any hydration. InJoo watched his adam’s apple bobble with each swallow, incredibly curious as to what was wrong with him. He seemed fine three days ago. Maybe he didn’t want to do it?

“Mr.Choi you don’t look …. well?”

He gave a short laugh and placed the empty glass on the kitchen counter. His eyes moved back to her, and then looked out to the living room, like he couldn’t bear looking at her, “You look fine.”

InJoo felt a spark of annoyance because she knew she looked fantastic. She didn’t spend three hours on choosing the right outfit and the right makeup to earn anything less than fantastic. But then her mind brought up the time in Singapore, where he’d said nearly the same thing, It looks fine. Maybe he had a limited vocabulary when it came to giving compliments. Still, her tone came out acidic, “Perhaps we should do this another time, or if you’ve changed your mind, I would understand—”

“I haven’t changed my mind,” he sounded determined. He still didn’t look at her, seeming more fascinated with InHye’s painting of their old rooftop garden.

Despite his words, she’d spent enough time with him to discern that he was ill at ease. “Do you want to eat? I have fruit—”

“No,” he said, “I’m alright. Thanks.”

Obviously, InJoo didn’t want to do anything when he was being like this. He needed to get comfortable. But if he didn’t want to continue with their plan, then she wouldn’t force him. “Do you want to sit down? Let’s go sit down.” She poured out two glasses of wine and guided him to the sofa. They sat angled towards each other. Mr.Choi preferred to frown down at the glass in his hand than look at her.

InJoo sipped, then rolled the wine around in her mouth and swallowed. She placed her glass on the coffee table and laced her hands together in her lap. “Are you really alright?”

He shook his head and clenched his jaw, then let out another short laugh. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do this.”

Her heart sank, but it was okay. Everything was going to be okay. She tittered helplessly, “That’s okay! Do you want to stay for dinner?”

“No, I—,” he seemed frustrated with himself. Mr.Choi sat the glass down on the coffee table, then got walked around and faced the closed balcony doors. “I can’t do this. Not with you.”

Well, that certainly rubbed the salt into her new wound. “That’s alright, we won’t do it then--”

“That’s not what I mean, I –” he turned back to face her, his eyes wider and more wild than normal. He ran a hand through his hair, “I—I—”

InJoo stayed quiet, he seemed like he needed his time. She’d never seen him this discomposed before. What if she’d broken him?

“Once isn’t going to be enough.”

Oh, was that all? “We can do it more than once,” she reassured him.

“No,” Mr.Choi let out an incredulous chuckle like he couldn’t believe this was happening, “No, that’s not going to be enough. InJoo—” His eyes pinned her to the couch. “—I’m a greedy bastard,” he confessed.

InJoo’s heart raised its figurative head piqued with interest, she might have an idea what he was getting at, but she needed to hear him say it, “I’m confused. Do you--”

“If we start this, I’m not sure that I’m going to be able to let you go. I’m not sure if that’s what you want.”

She raised her chin at him, “What are you saying?” Her heart was thrumming in anticipation.

“InJoo, I don’t have my life figured out, I don’t know what normal means for me. But I don’t mind not having an answer to that if it means I get to spend the rest of my life figuring it out with you. If you’ll have me?” He regarded her earnestly. Hopefully.

She stared at him, of all the things she’d imagined would take place this evening, Mr.Choi confessing wasn’t even on the list. InJoo’s heart was crowing about its hopes being fulfilled, but in another surprising turn of events, her brain gently nudged her heart out of the control chair. “Before I answer that, I have questions of my own.” She cursed her voice for wavering. “How do I know that you won’t leave me? That you won’t leave if a better offer comes along---you said you value money the most--? I don’t want to compete with money.” And lose.

His jaw clenched, “Do I have to compete with your sisters?”

“No, but that’s-“

“It’s the same, for me it’s the same. The only thing I knew would be there for me was money. But my priorities have changed too, now.”

“How can I believe that?”

He shrugged and gave her a disarming smile, “You’ll have to trust me.”

She grew frustrated and to her exasperation, her eyes started to sting, “You never tell me anything. You just --- if we’re going to do this, if I have to trust you with my heart, you have to talk to me.” He looked worried, so she held up a hand to stop him from commenting, “And I’m not crying because I’m sad, I’m crying because I’m irritated with you.”

He closed his eyes and nodded, then slowly walked back around the coffee table and knelt in front of her. One of his hands covered her tightly clasped hands, and the other reached up to wipe away an escaped teardrop with his thumb. InJoo sniffled. He gave her another smile, “I’m not going to get lured by any job, because I’ve spent the last several months cutting ties and tying up loose ends.” His hands were so warm. “I don’t know my normal, but I know I don’t want to go back.” He lifted a shoulder. “I know that I love spending time with you, and I don’t want to stop doing it.”

“We have to get better at communication,” she sniffed.

Do-Il vowed, “And we have to get better at communication. So, what’s the verdict Oh InJoo?” He unclasped her hands to hold each of them in his.

She averted her eyes to the ceiling and let the silence roll out for several moments, pretending to think. Then looked back down at Do-Il, “I’m interested.”

“Yeah?” His eyebrows quirked up and his smile widened.

“Yeah.” She was sure she was wearing a silly expression.

His voice went soft, “Well, lucky me.” He brushed his lips along the backs of her fingers.

They grinned at each other for a little while, enjoying the afterglow of revelations and changes in their relationship. Her heart sighed, content. “So, do you want to stay for dinner?”

Do-Il’s dark eyes bore into hers, and he left an open-mouthed kiss on her acid scar. She shivered from his warm breath and the sudden spike of arousal, “I have a better idea. Is your original offer still on the table?”

“Yes,” she breathed out.

His familiar smirk took up its rightful residence, and then while maintaining eye contact, he murmured against her soft textured skin, “More than once you said?”

“You sound confident for more than once.” Her attraction to him helped, but due to her experience, InJoo had tempered expectations to be realistic.

His smirk grew wicked, and the heat within her also simmered, “Is that doubt I hear?”

InJoo grasped at the remnants of her composure, “I think we should move this to the bedroom.”

“I feel quite comfortable here,” he remarked innocently.

“The bed is more comfortable,” then after a moment of deliberation she added, “That’s also where the condoms are.”

Do-Il chuckled, “You’ve prepared for this. Wine, condoms, should I be expecting lacy lingerie too?” He wriggled his eyebrows.

“It’s not for you.” Not entirely a lie.

His left eyebrow arched with arrogance, “Who else would it be for?”

“It’s for me.” Her eyebrow rose to mirror his, “Lingerie is empowering for women too.” It had been her wish list of small luxuries for a while. A few months ago, JiWon had read an article explaining how wearing comfortable and stylish lingerie could help women be more confident and reclaim their sexuality, and so InJoo joined her in exploring boutiques to test that theory.

“Right,” His thumb brushed along the backs of her fingers. “But you wore a set today?”

“I wear it whenever I want.”

His eyes flared and roved over her with more intense interest like he could see through her clothes. He got up and pulled her off the couch, “Where’s your bedroom?”

Feeling like a teenager sneaking around with a boy she liked, she led him down the hallway to her room. They paused in front of the door and looked at each other.

Do-Il checked, “We’re really doing it?”

“Yeah, we are,” she nodded. She bit her lip, then, “I’d like you to kiss me now. Please.”

His hands came up to tangle in her hair near the base of her skull. His thumbs brushed her cheeks. Do-Il leaned down and she went on her toes to meet him, with her hands holding on to his shoulders.

That first kiss was sweet and soft, composed of only touching each other’s lips-- feeling and getting to know each other. InJoo had imagined this countless times, she’d just never thought it would happen in the way that it did.

They broke apart gasping and he rested his forehead against hers. She blinked up at his closed eyes.

Then he returned, and this time, there was nothing sweet or soft or gentle. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in closer. When he traced the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue, her stomach flipped and she gasped. He used her parted lips as an opportunity to sweep his tongue in to tangle with hers.

Careful to not break their connection, InJoo reached behind him to turn the doorknob and blindly walked him backwards until they reached the edge of the mattress.

She broke the kiss and pushed at his shoulders to make him sit on the bed. He bounced a little, and lazily blinked up at her. InJoo hiked her up skirt and moved to straddle his thighs, using his shoulders for balance.

Do-Il’s arms loosely circled her waist and he smirked at her, “Hi there.”

Having had enough of this smirk, InJoo chose to kiss it away and delved her fingers into his soft dark hair. She licked into his warm mouth to sample his heady taste and was rewarded with his low groan. The sound shot straight down to her core.

Their kisses oscillated between playful and sensual, and slowly InJoo let her hands wander from his hair to his shoulders and ended their exploration at his open collar. She made quick work of opening several buttons and slipped her hands beneath the shirt to rest against his warm skin.

InJoo brushed her lips along his jawline and down his throat. His hold on her waist tightened in response. She whispered into his collarbone, “Is this okay?”

“Yes – you can touch me wherever you want,” he immediately rasped out.

While she leisurely nipped and kissed the skin of his upper chest and savored his sighs, her hands impatiently pushed the sleeves of his shirt down his arms. As she did so, she felt a strange soft texture near his left shoulder. She sat back to look at it clearly. A scar stretched horizontally from the highest point of his shoulder in direction of his sternum, about the width and length of two of her fingers. Her index finger carefully traced the outer rim of the scar.

Her eyes questioningly flicked up to his. Do-Il’s lips quirked up into a small lopsided smile, “Collateral damage.” She gave him a hard look, so he continued, “Go SooIm wasn’t happy when I arrived that day.”

Ah, she remembered it now, him bleeding that fateful day. There was a guilty twinge in her chest, for not recalling and not asking before. InJoo leaned in and left an open-mouthed kiss against the scar, hoping to convey her apology.

Do-Il inhaled sharply and jerked InJoo’s hips towards his crotch – and oh, how had she not noticed that until now? She rocked experimentally against his bulge and found it relieved the ache in her core. When she did it again, he groaned.

InJoo felt giddy and greedy for him. She continued to languidly grind against him and began to lavish his neck with licks and kisses. Her fingers stayed busy in his hair and he dug into the curve of her ass over her skirt. She savored each moan and sigh she could pull from him, and she eventually found a spot right below his ear that made him gasp out her name. She nipped his ear lobe, and purred into his ear, “Interesting.”

Do-Il’s hands had moved under her skirt and were currently drawing circles on her thigh. InJoo leaned back to evaluate her handiwork. His hair stuck up in odd directions, his lips were smudged with her lipstick, and he observed her through half-lidded eyes. Her underwear was soaked. Her ministrations had affected her as well.

He asked her in a low voice, “Satisfied?”

Her heart brimmed with fondness and contentment. She brushed back the hair from his forehead, “Not yet.”

“Too bad, I think it’s my turn now.”

Her world tilted and blurred, and then she found herself flipped on her back, on the bed. InJoo lifted herself up on her elbows to watch Do-Il get up from the bed and remove his shirt. InJoo shamelessly ogled at him. She could do so freely now, without worrying about disrespecting boundaries.

Do-Il moved back and laid on his side next to her, then tipped her chin up and gave her a bruising kiss. “It’s not fair that I’m the only one shirtless,” he said while untucking her blouse from her skirt. InJoo agreed wholeheartedly and shifted to help him pull the blouse over her head.

His thumb traced the elastic band of her bra, “I knew it would be pink.” Do-Il slipped his thumb under the band to graze the underside of her right breast which drew a surprised gasp from her. His eyes grew heated at the sound, then he shifted his palm down and fingered the waistband of her skirt, “I think we should remove this?”

InJoo rushed to get it off and Do-Il chuckled when her fingers fumbled with the side zipper. With her skirt discarded, he kneeled on the bed between her open legs and leaned down to kiss her neck. She automatically tilted her head to give him better access and clutched at her sheets when he sucked at the spot right above her collarbone.

Do-Il nuzzled the valley between her breasts while his hands snuck down and softly massaged her upper thighs. “This is very pretty,” he remarked, then bit the bra strap and pulled it away a little before letting it snap back. “You’re very lovely. You’re always lovely.”

InJoo gasped again, “Thanks.”

She squirmed when his thumbs started drawing hypnotizing circles on her inner thighs, so close to her crotch. His thumb barely brushed the elastic of her underwear, and he began to kiss the top of her left breast right near the lace border.

“This doesn’t seem to cover much,” his tone was exceptionally casual considering he was speaking into her breast.

“The lace covers everything,” she writhed, trying to get his thumbs to slip under her panties. He caught onto her scheme and his hand held her hip to restrict her movement. She let out a frustrated whine, “Do-Il.”

“I disagree, I can see your nipples very clearly.” As a demonstration, he flicked his tongue over the lace covering her left nipple.

“Ah! ” Do-Il slid his attention to the other breast, and gave it a similar treatment. InJoo pulled his hand from her inner thigh and shifted it under the waistband of her underwear, “Please.”

She could feel him smirking against the skin of her breast, but she was beyond caring. Finally, he slid his hand down and cupped her mound. Two fingers parted her folds, and after feeling the arousal at her opening, he commented roughly, “You’re so wet.”

“Yes, I know, oh--” Do-Il slid in two fingers, and they slipped in easily all the way to his knuckles. His thumb found her nub and began to rub it horizontally.

She tried to squirm again, but he had an iron grip on her hip. InJoo could understand his strategy, but this was not working for her. She couldn’t let this be a precedent, especially after all the talk about how communication was important to her, so she told him succinctly, “I prefer circles.”

His thumb froze and he raised his head to look at her, “What?”

“On my cl*t, I prefer circles,” she clarified. “Clockwise.”

His brows furrowed, “I see. Any other preferences?”

“I, Ah---!” She mewled when he crooked his fingers in her. She licked her lips and continued shakily, “I, um, no. That’s all.”

“Speaking of preferences, I’ve been wondering, what’s your type?” Do-Il gave a single thrust with his fingers.

“What?” her brain had been muddled since they’d started kissing, maybe she hadn’t heard him right.

“What is your ideal type for a partner?”

“My type?”, she tried to swivel her hips to get him to move his fingers, to do anything than just stay there. “Why does it matter right now?” It came out as an embarrassing whimper.

“Call it curiosity,” He ducked his head back down to her chest, and gave her cleavage a small lick. Her inner wall fluttered involuntarily around his fingers, and yet they did not move.

“I’ve said so before, it’s between me and god.”

“I’m quite confident that I can make you see the divine if you give me an answer.”

“Do-Il,” she growled down at the top of his head, but Do-Il seemed content to play with the bra lace using his teeth. Sinful, irritating, stubborn man. And to think she’d been filled with affection for him just moments ago. “My type is someone who’s well dressed, ohh—” He recognized her answer with a circular rub on her cl*t. So, this is how it would be. InJoo promised herself that she would make him beg when she got the chance. Currently, there were more urgent needs.

“He must have dark hair—,” He lightly bit her nipple and soothed it with a quick flash of his tongue.

“He must be taller than me—,” He gave a long deep thrust with his fingers.

“He must be funny---,” He rubbed her cl*t and flattened his tongue on her nipple.

“He must be kind ---,” He nosed the lace fabric away and licked her areola.

“He must be you—"

His fingers stuttered on a thrust and he whipped his head up to focus on her, “What?”

At her wit's end, InJoo bit out, “My type is you, you dummy.”

That set Do-Il off, he didn’t hold back his fingers at her core, and he generously poured equal attention on her breasts. InJoo felt him watching her reactions, she imagined he was cataloging them away in a neatly organized mental excel sheet. Blindly she reached down and peeled his hand away from her hip and clutched at it, just so she could have something to hold on to. His fingers curled around hers.

Things were slipping out in between moans and gasps. She might have cursed, she might have told him to not stop, she probably did call out his name several times, but she couldn’t seem to focus on anything except her fast-approaching org*sm and ah – there, just after he curled his fingers, her back arched off the bed. She came, gasping and quivering around his fingers.

Distantly, she heard Do-Il coo, “That’s it, there you go…”

InJoo’s pulse slowly returned to a resting beat and blearily stared up at her ceiling. She felt drunk. Do-Il’s face filled her field of vision, “You okay?” He caressed her hair out of her face and cupped her cheek, she leaned into his hand.

“Yes.” Then she cupped the back of his neck and brought his head down for a heated kiss, and ended it with a nip at his bottom lip. “I’d like you to get in me.”

“I was just in you.” He shook his head and clicked his tongue in mock admonishment, “You’re insatiable.”

“Well, you’re stuck with me now.”

“Well, I can’t be upset with that,” he rolled off her and removed his pants.

InJoo rolled in the opposite direction to carefully unhook her bra and peel away her slick underwear, and then tossed them in a random corner of the room. She pulled out a box of condoms from her bedside drawer.

Do-Il saw the box and his grin sharpened, exuding smugness, “You had big plans for me didn’t you, Ms.Oh?”

They kneeled on the bed, facing each other. InJoo brushed a hand down his chest and abdomen and tentatively ran her index finger along the inside of his boxers’ waistband. He took her hand inside his boxers and wrapped her fingers around his erect co*ck. It twitched in her grip.

She flicked her wrist to give him a rub, and with a groan, he dropped his forehead on her shoulder and uttered, “InJoo,” like it was a prayer. His hands dug into the sides of her waist.

InJoo gathered the pre-cum near his slit and spread it around the tip, then gave him another rub. His hips jerked in her direction. On her third rub, she made sure to trace the vein, and he growled a warning, “InJoo.”

InJoo smirked as she opened the packet, then pulled down his boxers and deftly rolled on the condom. Do-Il hurriedly kicked off his boxers and guided her to lay back against the pillows. He pushed her knees open and settled between them. She felt surrounded by him, his scent, his skin, his warmth.

InJoo hooked a leg around his waist and impatiently rolled her hips against him. They both hissed as the tip of his co*ck slipped against the notch of her slit. He pressed his face into the side of her neck and grunted, “Just – sh*t – just wait a moment.”

And then he pushed in slowly, too slowly, making her feel every inch of him. So, she lightly raked her nails down his back, and ah – finally, finally he was fully in her. InJoo sighed, comfortably filled by him.

“Is it okay to move?”

“Yes, yes.”

Do-Il started a steady rhythm of long deep strokes, and she eagerly thrust up her hips to meet him. The sounds of their coupling slowly filled the room.

He swallowed her moans with messy kisses, his tongue mimicking the motions of his co*ck. Then he moved his head lower, to lick into the hollow of her throat.

InJoo moaned, “Do-Il, please.” The pressure within her was driving her insane. She tried everything, she raked her nails down his spine, tugged his hair, and shoved her heels into his buttocks to urge him to quicken this maddening pace. But he didn’t budge. She pleaded wantonly, “Faster.”

Instead, he shoved his hand between them and rubbed tight little circles on her cl*t in beat with his patient strokes. She pulsed around him, and he slipped in deeper, repeatedly hitting a newer, more satisfying spot with each roll of his hips. Do-Il growled against her ear, “Clockwise circles, just how you like it.”

Her sensitivity from her previous org*sm combined with the heat in his voice seemed to push her closer to the edge. InJoo cried out, “Please, don’t stop --”

“---I’m not going to. You’re doing so well for me InJoo, you feel so good, you’re almost there, I can feel it---”

He pushed her knees higher and wider but didn’t speed up or slow down. The culmination of everything pushed her over the edge. She dissolved into pleasure, her hips bucking against his. She’d been wrong to be doubtful.

When InJoo came back down from her high, he was maintaining his original pace. Do-Il stared at her in awe, and he choked out, “f*ck.”

InJoo wanted him to finish as well, and he needed to do so soon, she could see he was holding back from the way the tendons stuck out in his neck. She smoothed a hand down his neck and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. Then raised her head up, kissed his scar, and murmured, “Let go.”

His hips stuttered and then they adopted faster sloppier thrusts. She clenched purposefully around him and tenderly said, “That’s it, let go for me.”

Do-Il thrust once more, then collapsed atop her, groaning her name next to her ear and pulsing within her. InJoo brushed the back of his head and whispered into his temple, “I’ve got you.” As she held him, she felt his heart beating against her breast. At that moment, she imagined that they were a single being with two souls and two hearts.

Much later, InJoo woke up with a warm arm draped over her waist. She was startled, then turned her head to see Do-Il snoring on the pillow next to her. Her muscles relaxed and she shifted carefully to lie on her side. Gently, her fingers whispered over his closed eyes, cheekbones, and pillow-like lips, feeling grateful for the chance to explore this new future.

InJoo didn’t have all parts of her life figured out either, but she was excited to do it together with him.