Page 103 of The Secret Of Us

Halmeoni sits outside on a small stool, her hands stuck in a wide bowl filled with cabbage and marinade. I start unloading the bags from the taxi as Eomma and Mina go over to her. She immediately lifts a small piece out to feed to Mina. With Appa’s help, it only takes us a few minutes to get all the suitcases inside, the others following after us as we get settled.

“Aegi, what do you want to eat?” Halmeoni asks as she washes her hands. Even though Mina is twelve now, she still sees her as a baby and Mina loves it.

“I want seolleongtang,” she replies instantly. The thought of the hearty ox bone soup alongside a steaming bowl of rice has my stomach rumbling.

“You should have told me before you came,” Halmeoni says, stroking Mina’s cheek. “It’ll take too long, but I can make it tomorrow.”

“Why don’t we order chicken tonight?” Appa suggests, and we all agree.

He orders, and we spend the next twenty minutes unpacking our things before it arrives. We all sleep in the same room while we’re here, so I claim my usual spot next to the door. Halabeoji and I would wake up earlier than everyone else. I’d make tea for both of us and we’d go outside to watch the world wake up together, the sun cresting over the fields in front of the house.

We sit down on the floor to eat together, and I feel his absence even more. Everyone’s making light conversation, but it all sounds like white noise in my ears, and the food in my mouth is tasteless as I force it down my throat.

When I spoke to my therapist, I told her that I miss Halabeoji most during these mundane moments. When we’re eating dinner, or watching TV, or just sitting around in each other’s company. I keep expecting to turn and see him, to hear the floorboards creaking under his feet as he walks over to give me pocket money.

I still have the last ten thousand won note he gave me tucked away in my wallet. I’ll never spend it.

* * *

A small beamof light creeps into the room as I pull the door open to leave. I try my best to stay quiet as I make my way to the kitchen to boil some water. I prepare two cups of tea and carry them outside once they’ve finished brewing.

My knees click as I bend down to sit on a small stool, placing both cups on the ground to the side of me. I wrap my arms around my legs, tucking them in closer as I rest my chin on my knees and stare out at the field in front of me. The tall green grass sways in the gentle morning breeze, rippling like waves as it welcomes the sun. I look away when I catch sight of pink flowers.

I turn my head to look at the empty space next to me. His stool is still there, slightly taller than mine, so he wouldn’t struggle so much when getting up or down. I lift up his cup and place it on top before taking my own. The warmth of it feels like it’s melting away at the barrier I’ve put up when I’m around everyone else.

“Halabeoji, what’s our plan for today?”

I know I won’t get a response, but I ask anyway. I nod, pretending to hear his voice as he tells me what errands he needs to get done and which ones I can help him with. I take a sip of tea before I speak again.

“I missed Korea,” I tell him.

My trips here were always the highlight of my year. The excitement of spending time with my grandparents, running wild and free around this small town, while neighbours plied me with treats for being such a good grandson.

“I don’t know when we’ll come back with Halmeoni once we take her to England, but I hope we aren’t gone for too long.”

Guilt sits heavy in my stomach as I finish off my cup. Halabeoji never came to England, never really saw the life we have over there, and now he never will. I place my cup back on the ground before I glance over at his. Steam still wafts from it, so I lean over to blow on it and cool it down.

“There you go,” I tell him, before I turn my gaze back to the orange-tinted sky. “Why couldn’t you wait for me? You knew I was coming. Just one more day and we could have said goodbye.”

Even with therapy, my decision still plays over and over in my head. I don’t know if it’s something I’ll ever get over—the regret of not coming sooner, of choosing to go to France for a stupid football trip instead of coming home, of not realising how bad he was after finding out he was sick.

“You were suffering, and I was kicking a ball around with a bunch of guys I don’t even care about,” I continue. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have left earlier if you told me to. I could have looked after you. I could have been here.”

My cheeks grow damp and I’m not even sure when I started crying. I tuck my head into my knees, avoiding the harsh light of the too-bright sun. A hand rubs across my back, and for a single delusional second, I imagine it’s him.

“Adeul, come back inside,” Appa says.

I look up at him, the crease in his brows deepening as he sees the state I’m in. Appa doesn’t say anything else though. He just lifts his palm to my face and wipes the tears away before he drops a kiss to the top of my head. The simple gesture starts me off again.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, his hand moving from my back to my hair as he strokes it. It’s something he used to do whenever I was upset when I was younger, the repetitive motion relaxing me until I forgot what upset me in the first place.

I don’t think it’ll work this time though. I can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, can’t see a point where I’ll ever be able to think about Halabeoji without it throwing my entire world off kilter. I’m too scared to voice the thought.

Instead, I cling to my Appa’s leg like a child, and I cry.

37

IZZY

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