“Stop thinking and go to bed.” I chastise myself loudly, wavering and push it all back down. Taking slow deep breaths and reminding myself that from time to time I feel this way. I get scared and I momentarily think the worst and yet he’s never yet done anything. He’s too upright and solid to hurt his family name or OLO with something dirty.
Impulsively I pull out my cell and dial his number before I can stop myself, otherwise I might go crazy and imagine the worst and rip my brain to shreds with the fear of the unknown. It rings three times, and he picks up. Something that despite our years of strained interaction that he’ll always do. He never ignores my rare calls. No matter how mad he is at me. Texts, calls, emails… Jyeon always replies to me within minutes.
“What is it, Sohla?” he sounds pissed off, his tone low and husky and I can tell he’s had a drink or two by the slight laziness of his speech. He has low tolerance for booze because he rarely touches it and it winds my nerves tighter, creating anxiety inside of me.
“Where are you?” I ask bluntly, knowing I have no right, but I don’t care.
“I told you, I have plans. I’m out.” There’s noise around him as though he’s sat somewhere busy, with lots of other people, and there’s faint music playing, but it definitely doesn’t sound like a club or party. More like a restaurant or somewhere similar.
“You left your clothes on the bed and your sports car is gone, I was worried that you might be having a hard time today.” My mask slips and the softer me shows face without meaning to. A slight gentler tone and the way I say it is alien to how I talk now. There’s a noise like a breathy ‘hah’ of disbelief at my nerve for calling him this way, and a small dry chuckle.
“Four years too late, baby. Sohla, hang up before I say something I might regret. I’m not in the mood tonight. I’m out, I’m staying out. I’ll see you at work tomorrow. I’m fine, just like always.” He has no warmth in his tone and I’m guessing whoever he is with knows well what kind of relationship we have if he’s talking normally and not trying to put on an act or be quiet about it. It has to be Bryant, or maybe Avery. I hope it’s Avery because he’ll take good care of him no matter how much he drinks.
There’s a long pause as my eyes glaze over and the urge to cry hits me hard. Maybe because of what today is, but the aching longing inside of me to break down and beg him to come home overwhelms me and suddenly I really want to be that little kid again who used to hide in his arms when she was cared of the world. I miss him.
The Jyeon that cared, the Jyeon that was present in our first four months of marriage before we started fighting all the time. The Jyeon who held me at my parent’s funeral and took care of me for days after when I couldn’t get out of bed. I miss Jyeon, the eight year old who taught me how to ride a bike and gave me my first taste of candy floss when he took me to the children’s circus when I was ten. He was my bets friend.
“If you’re not hanging up then I am. Goodnight.”
“Wait!” It’s a desperate snap of words as I panic to keep him there, clinging to memories and feelings I always try to fight, and his loud sigh makes me bite on my lip and give myself a mental slap for being this way. He hates me acting like this.
“Can we not? Please. Just for once. I know what today is, I didn’t forget. You think because she only lived a week that I can so easily stop caring about her? She was my daughter, my baby. Sohla, she was our kid…. I wanted her.” His words slur more than before, and I realise he’s much drunker than I thought he was. He’s never this way. He never opens up and talks to anyone, let alone me, especially not about her. Not like this, never like this. He avoids drinking for this exact reason, because he doesn’t want to and can’t face us ever bringing her up, and a tear fills one eye making my vision blurry so I have to bite on my lip hard to stop myself from sobbing.
“We never even gave her a name. Sohla. How could we not name her? She was a real little person, even if it was only for a short while. She was your daughter; you were her mother. Why didn’t you come when she needed you? She held on for you for six days…. I held on for you too. If you’d come… maybe…….” Jyeon’s voice breaks, a soft breathiness which tells me he’s crying and the mental picture of him doing so rips my soul in two. Shame washing over me, guilt eating me raw, which numbs my heart painfully and I try to blot it out. Shaking all over, because I know I did wrong and no matter what I say or do I can never turn back time to change it.
I laid in my hospital bed, recovering from blood loss, and used it as an excuse to never venture to her ward because I just couldn’t accept what I let happen. I was selfish and afraid of seeing her when she was so tiny and so helpless. Knowing I did that. Knowing she was dying. I hid from her because I couldn’t take another loss after my parents, after Mr Park.
I know he blames me for her letting go and leaving us, and I too blame me for not being there when she needed me most. Maybe if I did, she might have found the fight to hang on and survived. Maybe we would have gotten through it in a different way and been something else right now. It’s the one thing Yoonha has never understood, but I do.
Jyeon hates me for not just hurting her and causing an early birth with my negligence, but for abandoning her and leaving her to die without me. Her death is on my head, no matter which way I tell the story or what excuse I make, and I have to live with it for the rest of my life.
“I shouldn’t have called you.” My voice sobers up, empty and sour, and the cold and icy part of me that takes over when I mentally can’t handle anything anymore pushes in to save me from harm. Cutting him off. Locking him out once more and hating myself that I’ve become so accustomed to doing this that its like auto pilot against my will.
It isn’t just Jyeon that keeps me far away and unable to love, it’s a two way street where I can’t allow him to love me either. I don’t deserve his love after what I did. There’s an invisible barrier we both put there and neither ever tries to really take it down. Lack of talking about important things, and our willingness to play pretend and carry on every day without getting to the root of where we started to go wrong.
“And there she is, right back to bitch. You’re right, you shouldn’t have called. I forgot for a second that you’re never going to be how you were again and I delude myself for ever thinking you’re still in there somewhere. I’m hanging up, Sohla. Go to bed.” His voice returns to cold and icy, and all hints of emotion evaporate. His wall coming up as high as mine until we’re separated by ten feet of solid steel on each side, and I sink onto the floor while cradling it close despite my behaviour. My insides aching and throbbing and my body weak, vibrating. While my face is blank, and my heart slowly turns to a block of ice.
“Enjoy your night.” It’s an emotionless farewell and I red button his call before either says anything else. Sat in the dark of the closet and staring blankly at the wall in front of me. I don’t move for a long time, losing count of the minutes with no will to do anything else but stop and wait.
And yet I don’t think, or feel, or do anything else except sit here. Turning off my brain and zoning out to allow a numbness to take over. I do it until the clock passes midnight, and the chimes stop ringing in the house below, fading out to a low hum of past echo, until it’s no longer the day I let my baby die.
I tap my nails on my desk in agitation as I watch the hands of the clock tick on and on in what feels like slow motion. It feels like this morning is dragging more than a month in a jailhouse, and neither Yoonha nor Jyeon has shown up for work at all yet. I’m listless, I can’t concentrate or focus and nothing I do is easing the tightly wound ball in my abdomen that I know is stress. It’s after ten, and I’m pissed at both of them for this impromptu AWOL behavior when we have so many things going on before lunch.I have a pile of documents six inches thick that need both of their signatures next to mine, and we’re supposed to have a strategy meeting with senior staff in under an hour. We run our own departments and we need to regularly bring one another up to speed. They never miss them and now, more than ever it’s important we stay on top of it with all the new investments these few months.I’ve resisted calling Jyeon to find ou
“Pleasure’s all mine.” I reach out and shake it briefly, my cold hands are like ice cubes compared to her warm velvet skin and despite having no reason, I instantly dislike her. There’s nothing obvious standing out, it’s just a feeling.“Oh, you’re so cold. Do you have indigestion? That can really mess with the circulation in your hands. I have some antacids in my bag if you’d like some.” She smiles widely, soft, sweet, and overly caring, and I shake my head, sensing this is an act to redeem herself to me. I didn’t eat today so my blood sugar is low and has nothing to do with acid if my body temperature is low. I’m so used to it that I don’t notice anymore.“I…”“You skipped breakfast, didn’t you? How many times have I told you not to do that?” Jyeon cuts in, his tone aggravated and stern and he eyes me with a furrowed brow before I can speak. Getting up,
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Jyeon throws the words my way as he walks to his desk and not back over here. Making it clear he’s not bothered about my presence and he’s no intention of talking to me. All warmth gone from his tone now she has too, and I get up, snatching the files, and march over to him instead. Tossing them on his desk with a show of aggravation and hating the change in him now we’re alone.“Did I interrupt your cozy little meeting? Might want to call Dee back and cancel the food you so thoughtfully ordered me, now the act is over.” I spit back and pick up his fountain pen from the holder before tossing it on top of the paperwork in a brisk manner.“I need those right now.” I order him, inwardly hostile and not sure why I’m feeling this way from the second I got up this morning. It’s like a growing storm in my belly that I can’t stop from expanding.“W
I stare absentmindedly ahead in the elevator as I travel down to the ground floor to go and meet Yoonha outside for lunch. It’s been a few days since his drunken confession, and two days of his AWOL childish behavior passed before he finally showed face to act like an adult once more. And like every other time, we never mentioned it again because this is what he does. Back into the swing of our ordinary lives, and it’s brushed under the table as though it never happened and became just another absurd ritual in my life.I’ve barely seen Jyeon all week as we’re all so swamped in work with three new company investments to launch by the end of the month that’s taking all our time. I’ve had an average of two hours sleep a night, missed so many meals from overtime, skipped lunch breaks that I’ve dropped a dress size. Hence my lunch date and making time to hang out with my little brother, forcing me to
He starts laughing at me waves his hand in my face as though I’m talking another language, and he isn’t interested in anything I have to say. He lifts his arm and waves it around to get the attention of fellow protestors, and I’m aware of some turning this way and pushing in slightly to form more of an arc facing our building instead of away. Eyes are coming my way, and some quiet down to listen.“She says it’s not their problem!” he yells out loud for them all to hear in a snarly tone and thumps his board on the ground so that I flinch. Many more of them follow suit and pound their boards too, creating a buzz of bangs and murmurs as their voices blend into one. I catch more security filing outside from the doors in my right line of vision and know that upstairs will have been notified of this going on by now.“Bullshit!” he leans into my face and spits it out, s
“Jyeon? Are you okay?” I reach up for his face to turn him to me, catching his jaw in my fingers and pulling him down. My insides are aching, and genuine fear is gripping my soul as I try to inspect him for wounds. My body shakes all over as adrenalin kicks in, and he pulls me with him away from the doors at speed.“Are you hurt? Did anything hit you? Are you cut anywhere?” Jyeon slices through my question with his own. Pulling me into the elevator and letting go of me before sliding his hands over my head, brushing back my hair, searching through my scalp with his fingertips, and frantically searching over my body and face, for any damage. His eyes narrow, and his breathing labors as he pulls my jacket open and skims every inch of my shoulders and neck, and face to see if I have even a tiny scratch. His warm, firm hands skim my skin, leaving a burning path wherever they touch, even through the fabric of my cloth
“Mrs. Park is in the games room with guests. She asked you to come in when you arrive home.” The housekeeper greets me with kind eyes and a gentle voice as I wander in, heavy with the tiredness of the day and home late. Dealing with the protest fallout on top of so much else these past few days has me exhausted. My shoulders ache, my neck is stiff, and I have a headache coming on. I’m nowhere near in the mood to entertain her guests, but I’m obedient to a fault. I was raised in the good old ‘thou shall obey my parents’ of my culture, and I grimace and paste on a fake smile. Sighing and knowing I should get it over and done with. It’s a show-off move to remind her friends how magnificent her family is.“Where’s Yoonie? Is he home?” I ask with a raised brow, seeing as he left the office hours ago. I already know it’s pointless to ask about Jyeon, who was still burning the o
“Ask his wife. No one knows better than her what he’s doing or where he is. They have an excellent relationship.” She chimes back without a heartbeat of hesitation, and my face numbs with this pasted expression that churns my stomach up. I feel Yoonah tense beside me.My sweet, big brown-eyed puppy dog, boy, cuts in by pulling a card from my hand and tuts loudly. My savior.“Play this one, and you’ll win. How can someone so smart and observant suck this much at a card game? Why did you throw that one, you empty head.” He grins, patting me on the shoulder, and retrieves the card I had put down to switch it out.“I know, right. I guess I can’t be talented in all areas of life.” I softly smile his way, catching his eye and meeting the warmth always there in him. The complete opposite to his emotionless brother, who serves me only ice