against his temple to ease the throbbing behind his eyes.
“You don’t look like you’re doing well,” Miyoung said.
He hated that she saw him when he was so weak. “You think? My whole life was ripped apart by a girl who said she cared about me, then disappeared. My halmeoni’s in the hospital, bills are piling up because the restaurant is closed, and I have a damn migraine. Would you be all right?”
His headache swelled. If it got any worse, he might have an episode. That was not something he needed right now, not in front of Miyoung.
“Do you want me to leave?”
He didn’t reply because if he said no, then she’d know how much he still cared. But if he said yes, she might go, and he didn’t want that either.
“I don’t know how to talk to you,” he said instead. “I don’t know how to be around you.”
“I don’t regret it,” she whispered.
“Coming back?”
“Caring about you.”
48
IT WAS THE first time she’d said the words. And they caught at her throat.
Miyoung watched Jihoon struggle with her confession.
“I didn’t want to admit it . . . before.” She paused, hesitant to bring up the past, but she had to say it at least once. “You made me feel like I could let go for the first time in my life and that scared me. I’ve lived my whole life letting fear control me. And I hurt you because I still don’t know how to let go.”
“And you think now that you’ve come back and said these things, all should be forgiven?”
Miyoung backed away from the anger in his eyes. The full moon broke partially free from the clouds obscuring it, shining against the swing set. Like a boundary between her space and his.
It called to her, urging her to relinquish control. Instead of pulling the beast from her, it pulled out the words from her heart.
“I never wanted to hurt you.”
“Well, you did. I hurt all the time, but I’m too tired to stay angry anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“I want to forgive you,” he admitted.
Miyoung took a step, her heart spurring her forward into the slanting light of the moon. Pain rocketed through her muscles. As if on cue, Jihoon winced, an echo of her suffering.
It reminded her why she’d returned. And it wasn’t for a redemption she didn’t deserve. A part of her wanted to peel back the last curtain and reveal what she had done to his halmeoni. It would cure him of his suffering, thinking he could still love her. He wouldn’t be so foolish as to believe that after he knew what she had done. But another part of her, the selfish part, kept the secret to herself for now.
I came back to help and he won’t let me if he knows what I did, but she knew she was a liar and a coward.
Miyoung took a step back, away from the moonlight, away from Jihoon.
His eyes fell, the hope that lit them dimming to nothing.
“Just go,” he said.
“Jihoon-ah.”
“I said get out of here!”
His words shot into her, a command she couldn’t deny. Said with such force that she knew she couldn’t stay if she wanted to. But after seeing the anger in his eyes, she didn’t want to stay. And she called herself a coward as she fled.
49
SENIOR YEAR OFFICIALLY began. March used to be Jihoon’s least favorite month as it meant the start of a new school year and the end of the short reprieve of winter break. But now school would be a good distraction from all the other places his brain wanted to go.
The first day of school was uneventful, exactly what he wanted, except he couldn’t keep his mind off a certain gumiho. It was a blur of teachers stressing that third year was not only their final year as high school students but the most important, as they would be taking the suneung exams.
Senior year also brought with it long nights where third-years would stay up well past midnight to study. A fate he’d always dreaded, but now grabbed on to like a lifeline. It was only at dinnertime that he left the school building to make his way to the hospital and see Halmeoni.
He was exiting the school with Changwan, who was headed to his after-school academy, when a black sports car sped into his path, causing him to jump back or risk being hit.