Seoulmates (Seoul 2)

“No. Kim Seonpyung is very good catch. An emchina. A young man that all mothers hope to have as a son-in-law. You could meet him this weekend. Tomorrow it will be beautiful. I believe the weatherman said in the seventies with very little air pollution.”

I scrape my teeth over my bottom lip in frustration. I’m fully aware she does not want me dating Yujun, but setting me up with some random guy I’ve never met seems too much.

“No disrespect, but if you like him, then you should da—” I cut myself off before I say something really callous. Her husband is upstairs in this house in his makeshift hospital bed, hooked up to monitors and machines that are keeping him alive. I rein in my temper and try again. “I’m not interested. I know you don’t approve of Yujun’s and my relationship, but it exists. I’m not going to date anyone else.”

Wansu’s face hardens. “You and Yujun cannot be together. The sooner you accept this truth, the sooner you both will be happier.”

Maybe I should’ve poisoned her last night. People say near-death experiences can soften hearts. “If you wanted the Nation’s Son-in-Law, Ahn Sangki is right there.”

Wansu’s eyebrows arch. “Ahn Sangki will not marry you.”

My back bristles. Does she think I’m not good enough for him?

“And not because of what you are thinking. It is well-known that Ahn Sangki prefers men.”

My jaw drops. Sangki never came out to me, but he didn’t have to. It was easy enough for me to guess where his affections lie because he looks at Yujun the same way I look at Yujun. “How did you know? Does Yujun know?”

“Everyone knows, Hara, including Yujun. How could he not? Those two are close as brothers.”

Does he also know that Sangki is in love with him?

“Ahn Sangki is a very nice young man, but he will not be anyone’s son-in-law. I do not recommend that you date any other celebrity either. They are not known for their fidelity or their long-lasting relationships. If, after meeting with Kim Seonpyung, you find that he is not a good match for you, there are others. In fact, I can provide you with several candidates. Text me what you would like for dinner. I can provide you with a list of restaurants that would be suitable for first dates.” She rises from the table, hooks her briefcase with her hand, and strides out of the dining room toward the front door.

I push the half-drunk smoothie to the side and pick up my phone to text Bomi, who has some answering to do.

ME: Traitor!

BOMI: She gave you the dating profiles?

ME: You did more than one?

BOMI: Ten. I did ten of them. I wanted to tell you but I knew you would be mad

ME: Yes! I am mad. You could’ve at least warned me

BOMI: I was going to at the food truck but you were already . . . Sorry.

She sends me an apple emoji. I drop the phone to the table and shake my fist at the screen. An apology is not cutting it. A horrifying thought occurs to me. If Wansu is sending me dating profiles, she must be doing the same to Yujun. I hadn’t even thought that Yujun might be cheating on me. He calls me every night. I’ve watched him fall asleep on the phone. During the day he attends business meetings. At least . . . I think he does. Doubt creeps into my thoughts like black smoke.

I fumble with the phone again. My fingers tremble slightly as I type out, Are you going on blind dates?

I hold my breath waiting for a reply, but none comes. It’s so early. Is he in a meeting? Or in someone else’s bed?

It’s a good thing I don’t have anything going on at work because nothing would’ve been accomplished. I can’t concentrate for shit and I spend every other minute looking at my phone. Around midmorning, I actually power down my phone, telling myself he’ll text when I least expect it. That self-restraint lasts all of ten minutes. I finally get a response close to lunch.

YUJUN: No?

No? With a question mark? What kind of answer is that? I jump up from my chair, mumble an excuse about using the bathroom, which is unnecessary since no one is paying attention to me anyway, and scurry to the stairwell. I open the door to find it already occupied by another IF Group employee talking on her mobile. She glares and shoos me off.

The bathroom doesn’t have the best signal, but it’s the one place I can be guaranteed a moment of privacy. I slam the door of the stall shut and dial Yujun. It rings and rings and then I get a text message.

YUJUN: In a mtg sorry call u ltr u