Seoulmates (Seoul 2)

His eyes are red when he emerges from his father’s room. I pick up the sack of food and hold out my hand. “Want to go for a drive?”

Wordlessly, he folds my fingers between his and leads me down to his car. We drive down the mountain past the high brick and stone walls, the treed lots, as the quiet street expands into four lanes and then eight. The cement apartments rise on either side of the road and the north mountains fade as the south peaks start to take shape on the horizon.

He takes us straight to the river park where we first kissed. This time of night, there is no one here save the occasional kid speeding by on a motorized scooter or skateboard.

We sit on the bench on the long stretch of cement while the Han laps quietly against the rocks and the traffic behind us hums low in harmony. The normally talkative Yujun has no words. His hand remains glued to mine. I hear a gasp, an indrawn breath, and then he breaks. Quiet, fierce sobs shake his shoulders. Heat burns the back of my eyes as I scramble to my knees and press his face to my chest. His arms come around me, tight and hard. I can feel his muffled cries reverberate through my frame, drawing out an echo of remembered pain. He and I have suffered the same loss—our parents—and shared trauma, but we also have our love of this city, our longing for something more.

He said we were destined to be together, that our fates were tied by this fabled red cord, no matter where we went, no matter the distance between us, no matter the obstacles. He was right.

“Ah, gomawo.” Thank you, he says. “I did not think I would lose it.”

“My shoulders are small but sturdy.” I dab his cheeks with my shirt. He allows me the privilege of caring for him and I am so grateful to be needed.

I came here searching for something, not just my father, Lee Jonghyung, or my mother, Na Wansu. I’d found my mother, Wansu; my love, Yujun from Seoul; but also my sisters, Jules and Bomi; and my brother, Sangki. I found that home is not a city or state or country or even a continent. I don’t belong because of the shape of my eyes, the way I pronounce about or gomawo, or whether I wear stripes or polka dots, but because of the people I belong to. I allowed myself to be vulnerable here, or maybe being here stripped away my defenses. Either way, people found their way into my heart and I can’t let them go.

These people are my home. These people make up who I am and will affect who I will be in the future. I love this place. I love this man.

Once I said to Yujun that I did not feel like a Korean and he’d replied that what is a Korean but a person who has suffered and survived? In the bitter and the sweet of this city, I have found my person, my soul.

“Saranghaeyo,” I whisper against his silky hair. “Saranghaeyo.” I say it again and again and he says it back, quietly, and then louder. We stay in this moment, breathing the same air, repeating our love in English and in Korean as many times as we can until it takes shape between us. It is too big to become undone. I am a part of this place, this man, this clan. I love you. Saranghaeyo. I love you. Saranghaeyo. Saranghaeyo.

EPILOGUE

“Who are you staring at?” I wave my hand in front of Yujun’s nose. His hands are suspended in midair, one with a ball of hotteok dough and the other holding a spoon full of brown sugar, cinnamon, and roasted nuts.

He squints. “I think that’s Kim Seonpyung over there.”

“Who is that?”

“Your blind date,” Bomi supplies.

This clarifies nothing. “I’ve never gone on a blind date.”

“The animal hater.” Yujun straightens and dumps the filling inside the dough.

“Ah.” The light bulb turns on. He was the guy that Eomeo-nim thought would distract me from Yujun.

“Animal hater?” Bomi echoes.

Yujun pinches the dough shut and drops it onto the griddle. “I heard he was studying at Oxford.”

“Nursing a broken heart from being rejected by Hara.” Sangki clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He tamps down one side of the dough fritter with a flat metal disc and then flips the dessert over.

“We never dated,” I remind them as I slide two pork sandwich boats down to Jules, who serves them to the couple in front of her.

“Which is why he’s heartbroken. Makes perfect sense.” Yujun nods.

“I didn’t know he hated animals. I wouldn’t have put him on the list if I’d known that.” Bomi sounds distressed.

“He’s lying. Hi, can I help you?” I ask Kim Seonpyung as he steps forward.