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After dinner, Yujun helps me clean up and Wansu returns to Choi Yusuk’s room.
“How is your father?” I broach the subject as Yujun has his fourth apple pie hotteok.
“Same as always.” He taps his fork against the ceramic plate. “I think it is time for Eomma to let go.”
As this is the first time Yujun has spoken about his father in really any context, I keep my mouth shut and practice my listening skills.
“She has hoped for a different result for a long time, but there’s no medical opinion that warrants keeping him on these machines.” He blows out a deep breath and sends me a sad, rueful smile. “That’s a perfectly depressing topic upon which to end our very eventful day, isn’t it?”
“I have one of your Hermès ties in my closet if you need something to wipe your tears with,” I offer.
“Kept that, did you?” The smile turns more genuine.
“I think I have almost everything you gave me including the paper that wrapped this.” I tap the necklace under my blouse.
“I have something else for you. Let me get it. I’ll meet you in your room.”
My eyes fly upstairs to Wansu.
“It’s okay.” He shoos me off.
I don’t waste my breath arguing because, frankly, I don’t want to. I run to my bedroom, pushing aside the beautiful hanbok I wore earlier, and find the gift I bought for Yujun. It was a splurge for me, but Chuseok and Seollal are the major gift exchange holidays. I didn’t want to screw up so I spent more than I ordinarily would. I’m glad because while I’m putting money aside, my money situation will be tight if I go through with my wild idea and I might not be able to buy much for Seollal.
He knocks before opening, a small red package with a gold bow in his hand. “Is that for me?” His eyes light up.
“No. It’s for me. I bought presents for myself and I plan to open them while you watch me.” I grin.
“Perfect, as I have bought this for myself as well.” He shakes the box. “Shall we?”
I snatch the box out of his hands and run over to the sofa. “Yes.”
As I carefully untie the gift, wrapped ingeniously with no tape so that the paper falls aside with a few tugs, Yujun sits next to me, rubbing a hand over my head and kissing my crown.
“I love you, Hara. Thank you for staying with me.”
I abandon the small blue velvet box to cup his cheek. “Thank you for being my Yujun from Seoul.”
He dips his head to kiss me but draws back at the last moment. “Gift exchange first.” He taps the box. “Open up.”
Inside the small box is a pair of red enamel ducks with white jade bellies. The tails and necks of the ducks are adorned with dozens of tiny diamonds, and the eyes are brilliant rubies.
“When I saw you today, I wished I had given them to you last night after we made songpyeon. You could have worn them with your outfit.”
“I’m glad I didn’t.” They won’t have any bad memories attached to them, which I can’t say for the hanbok. Even looking at it makes my stomach clench.
“Now me.” He holds out his hands.
I lay the package on his palms. “I wrapped it myself.” I feel like I have to explain away the tape and the hand-tied bow.
“It’s perfect.” It doesn’t matter because he rips the paper off and lets it flutter to the ground while he opens the box. Inside is a navy leather portfolio with his initials embossed in silver on the front.
“This is gorgeous.” He smooths his hand over the luxe leather. “Feels super soft.”
“Open it up.”
Obligingly, he unzips the case.
“It’s for your electronics while you travel. You can put your tablet here.” I point to the large expandable pocket on the right. “And this lower pocket is for a battery charger and cords. You can put your passport in this outside flap. And obviously these loops in the center are for a pen or an electronic pencil.”
“And this?” He pulls out a surprise I had hidden in one of the pockets. It’s a light blue silk Hermès tie with white and blue ducks. A whimsical accessory that cost me two paychecks, but when I saw it online, I knew it was perfect for Yujun. He wears blue a lot—blue suits, blue jeans, blue sweaters, blue long-sleeve casual shirts.
“It’s to replace the one I took from you.”
“Mmm.” He drapes it around my neck and pulls me close. “It’s perfect.”
Our kiss is openmouthed but tender. There’s so much love in him and I feel it in the way he touches me, handles me. I don’t feel so much possessed by him but rather cherished. I lean into him, bracing my palms against his hard thighs. His hand sweeps under my hair to angle my head for a deeper, hungrier kiss.
