her? Or is that her? I felt that any day she’d come to my house in Pusan and take Yul away from me. Pick him up like a lost piece of luggage. Can you imagine what it’s like to live like that? That’s why in the beginning I hesitated to have children. I didn’t want them to have a crazy and neurotic mother. Anyway, I forgot about her eventually, and years went by. And then one day, it was as if I had hopped on a train—things started to happen, they started moving forward fast. We had to leave Pusan suddenly. We had to leave for reasons that, well, I shall share another time—” Eun-Mee trailed off before continuing. “Anyway, I came into his office unannounced, and as soon as I came in, I saw him hide a piece of paper under a notebook on his desk. He didn’t think I saw it, but I did. It was a woman’s name and phone number. Now, my husband isn’t the cheating kind. I figured out at once who it was, and I thought, All right, it is time for us to go to Seoul. It is time for me to meet this woman.”
Then Eun-Mee turned to Soo-Ja, and Soo-Ja saw it in her eyes: she knew. She knew it was her. How had she found out? What a naive question, thought Soo-Ja. Lovers always know. Eun-Mee had not said a word, keeping Soo-Ja in the dark, maybe to enjoy that competitive advantage. But how long had she waited to drop a hint, whisper in her ear: I know who you are. Soo-Ja felt a chill run through her body—she had seen this kind of chill described before in ghost stories; Eun-Mee’s tale turned out to be just that.
Soo-Ja felt trapped in this very large, very public coffeehouse. The last three weeks, when she had practically lived with Eun-Mee, were suddenly taken away from her. Soo-Ja felt like an actor who has been reciting words from the wrong play, and realizes this only in her last line. She had been so caught up with seeing Yul again, she had not noticed Eun-Mee’s barely concealed jealous glances at her. But looking back, of course the signs had been there all along. Eun-Mee’s hostility and aggressiveness, which Soo-Ja had assumed to be simply part of her personality, were in fact a direct response to her. And yet, Eun-Mee had confided in her, maybe even tried not to hate Soo-Ja. Eun-Mee wanted Soo-Ja to disappear, but she wanted her there, too, in case her absence weighed heavier than her presence. Eun-Mee was as trapped as Soo-Ja, just in a different dark room.
“So what are you going to tell her when you finally see her?” Jae-Hwa asked.
“I will tell her that I will fight to protect what is mine. That she should not get any ideas. Men do not leave their wives to pursue old crushes. She should keep to her own husband, look to her own roof,” said Eun-Mee, looking at Soo-Ja, her voice as sharp as the end of a needle.
It was only the second time since they had sat down that Eun-Mee looked directly at Soo-Ja’s face. Soo-Ja rose and excused herself to the ladies’ room—she could no longer bear the throbbing in her head.
The small ladies’ room fit only one person at a time, and Soo-Ja locked the door behind her as she went in. She walked to the sink, ran warm water under her hands for a long time. The mirror above fogged up a little, and as she wiped it with the back of her hand, she imagined she saw Yul reflected there, standing right behind her, looking at her. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, and he wiped them off with the tip of his finger. He held up his hand afterward, as the wetness lingered for a second, and then his skin absorbed her tears, and absorbed her.
Soo-Ja pictured Yul hugging her from behind. He buried his head in her hair, and she could feel his nose nuzzling against her neck. She turned around and let him kiss her, his tongue caressing the soft, raw parts of her underlip, then reaching deeper, stroking her tongue with his, until they could not breathe without intruding on the other. He embraced her, with every part of her body coming alive, instantly bound to his. One hand pressed against her neck; another against her waist. His mouth emerged for air and