Page 141 of When Worlds Collide
Jihoon came over to me, kneeling beside me as he gently brushed a strand of hair out of my face.
“Your Visa application will be cancelled.”
I shrugged. It didn’t matter anymore.
“I think we both know it wasn’t going to be approved.”
He said nothing, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. The man I would have given anything for.
Almost anything.
I was trying. I was trying so hard to keep it together, but I was tired. So bone-weary I could have laid down right there and slept for days. I’d be like Snow White in that glass coffin.
“I have to go,” I said to convince him, as much as to convince myself, because while I believed it was the truth, saying it made it real, something I had to do, instead of something I should do. But the words cost me, breaking open a dam in me, and even as the words fell out of my mouth, they came out on the back of a heaving sob.
I slapped a hand over my mouth, trying to shove the grief back inside, but it poured out of me like water through sand.
As my shoulders heaved, I was dimly aware of being pulled into Jihoon’s arms, of being supported by his strength as mine left me.
And just as he had days ago, he held me there, on the floor, rocking me as I cried, except this time I wasn’t the only one.
Chapter 43
It felt like we stayed glued together like that for hours, lost to the pain, putting off the inevitable. But all too soon we did pull apart, our faces mirrors of the other. Blotchy, red noses and absolutely unable to care about that.
But even as we moved apart, we stayed connected. Through our clasped hands and the brush of our knees as we sat so close. Even our shared breaths as we crowded each other, unable to bear not being close, even as we made plans to separate.
We eventually got up off the living room floor, but only to move into the bedroom. Together we peeled our clothes off, switching them for our comfy pyjamas and we lay in bed to make our plans. We didn’t bother with the lights, using only the light of the laptop. If we pretended it was still nighttime, maybe the day wouldn’t come.
But it did.
And by morning, we’d made our plans.
Today was Thursday.
Today was the last day I would be in Korea, the last day I would be employed at ENT.
The last day I would be with Jihoon.
I had one day to get my affairs in order, but really, I think we stretched it so long just so I wasn’t leavingtoday, becausetomorrowsounded more… bearable.
I think we both knew it would not have taken me as long as a day to wrap up my life in Korea. I’d barely put down roots. I was a houseplant, my roots still firmly in the pot. We’d only been pretending I’d been planted.
The sun was just barely cresting over the horizon, the merest suggestion of a glimmer that reflected off the glass-fronted buildings across the river that towered into the sky. My last sunrise in Korea.
“I’ve booked your ticket.”
His voice, the voice that sells records and sells out venues, was hoarse, tired in a way I don’t think I’ve ever heard it.
I turned back to look at him, sat on the bed, crumpled in on himself as he hunched over my laptop. The circles under his eyes were clear even from this distance, or maybe that was just the shadows in the dim light of the room.
“I got you first class again.”
I tried to protest, knowing damn well that seat cost more than several months of rent, but he waved me off, his tremulous smile breaking my heart, little by little.
“I remember how much you liked the little toiletries.”
It was meant as a joke, so why did it make me cry?
