Seoulmates (Seoul 2)

“He would not approve,” Kyungsook insists. “I do not approve. She should not be in this house while my son lies upstairs in his sickbed. And, you, Yujun, I hear that you have been sullying yourself with her.”

“Hara has a name,” Yujun says.

Choi Juwon laughs cruelly. “Yujun-ah, you have done nothing but spit on your father’s legacy. The changes you’ve instituted at IF Group will result in disaster, and now you bring that girl into the house? Choi Yusuk would definitely not approve. She’s a doenjang girl.”

I have no idea what that means other than it’s an insult.

“You can leave right now.” Yujun points to the door.

Choi Juwon tilts his chin up in defiance. “I’ll leave when the owner of this house tells me to leave.”

Wansu gasps. It takes a moment for the full cruelty of Juwon’s statement to sink in. The owner of this house has been in a coma for the last three years. He is not getting out of his bed to say anything and we all know that. You push your father to his death, but maybe it is good he cannot see or hear so that he does not witness what his son has become.

This time, when Yujun’s fist comes up, I don’t stop him. It only takes the one punch and Juwon drops to the floor. Kim Jinae screams.

Kyungsook gets to her feet. “I always knew you weren’t good enough for this family.” She spits on the table and walks out, the skirt of her hanbok billowing behind her. No one else moves. At the doorway, Kyungsook opens her mouth again. “What are you all waiting for?”

“Our envelopes . . .” murmurs a small female voice.

Yujun snorts in disgust.

“We are leaving. Now!” Kyungsook’s voice tolerates no objections, and one by one the family members gather up their belongings and their children until the house is completely empty but for a few staff members and Mrs. Ji.

Wansu stands stick straight, her shoulders not slumping even a half degree. The steel she has in her spine is industrial-strength. I would’ve folded. Tears would’ve been in my eyes. My hands would be shaking.

“I trust that you will oversee the cleaning up and the distribution of the food,” she says to Mrs. Ji.

Mrs. Ji gets to work immediately.

“I’m going to sit with your father,” she says. She makes her way across the house, past the main room where the bowls and dishes of food still sit, barely touched. Her gait is steady and her head is high. She plants her foot on the first step, and that’s when it happens. She falters. Her hand shoots out to grasp the railing. Yujun starts forward, but I pull him back. She doesn’t want his help. I know this because even though Wansu has not raised me, we are alike in many respects. I’m not one to be loud or cry easily. I don’t like others seeing me weak. I’m not always comfortable with physical contact even with friends. Whether this came from Wansu, whether this is in my blood, it is hard to say, but I won’t deny these similarities.

He tenses in my grip, and for a worrying moment, I wonder if we are going to struggle, but he gives in. It’s the right call, because a second later, Wansu pulls herself upright and climbs the stairs as if the hesitation never occurred.

How long has she lived under the disapproval of her mother-in-law? How many Chuseoks and Seollals has she suffered through? Her disapproval of Yujun’s and my relationship makes perfect sense in this context. She was trying to protect us—both Yujun and me, but mostly me. She did not want me to spend the rest of my life on the outside, kneeling by myself.

“I’m sorry,” Yujun says. His long-fingered elegant hand comes up to cover his face, to hide his shame.

I pull his hand away and sweep his bangs off his forehead. “What are you sorry for? You are not your grandmother. You have no control over her, over Wansu, over me. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

His eyes darken. “No. I put you in this position. I should’ve—”

“What?” I interrupt. “Gone back in time and never met me?”

“No.”

“That’s the only answer to the ‘should’ve’ intentions. I’m not sorry we met. I’m not sorry I love you. And I’m not going to leave you because your grandmother doesn’t like me or your cousin doesn’t think I’m fit to play with their kids or the friend at the river park finds our relationship offensive. None of that matters to me.” I’m not on the outside and I am not alone. I have Yujun. I have Ellen. I have Wansu. I have so many people who love me and care for me. I only have to open myself up and accept them.