This Burns My Heart Page 0,104
we don’t have each other?”
Soo-Ja laughed. “Oh, Yul, you’re not good at being vulgar. And trust me, you wouldn’t enjoy making love to me. I just lie there.” Soo-Ja was surprised to hear the words slip out of her mouth. But the combination of the night being so still and so theirs, and being able to enjoy it alone with Yul—all of it had made her a little tipsy.
“It would be different if you were doing it with someone you loved,” said Yul.
Soo-Ja laughed again, turning her head sideways. “Really?”
“I’m sorry. I just feel like I can say anything around you. I feel completely free around you,” said Yul.
“I feel the same way. That means we’re good friends,” said Soo-Ja. Even though the temperature seemed to drop with each block they passed, she did not feel cold. She could have walked all night with Yul, waking up to the dawning sun, her body next to his on a bench, the moistness of morning in her breath.
Yul shook his head. “Why is it so hard for you to say that I mean more to you?”
“You’re being awfully presumptuous. What makes you think you mean so much? Maybe I can barely stand you,” said Soo-Ja, smiling.
“Is there anyone else you talk to this freely?” asked Yul, suddenly stopping.
Soo-Ja kept walking, leaving him behind. She then stopped, too, and waited for him to catch up with her. When they were next to each other again, they resumed walking. All this was done with the precision of a dance, the movements carefully modulated, the counts invisible but steady.
“I used to. With my father.”
“Why do you say ‘used to’?”
“He and I don’t talk much anymore,” said Soo-Ja, growing a little forlorn. “Every time I do, I can’t help thinking, I ruined the life of someone I care about.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Only because he gave me all his money and it went to pay off my father-in-law’s debts.”
“Then you didn’t ruin his life. You gave him the chance to show his love for you.”
“That’s a nice way of looking at it. But in reality, I just avoid the topic. I avoid him, actually,” said Soo-Ja, looking straight ahead. The strip of shops had ended, and they could see a walled-in park ahead, the tips of magnolia trees arching over the red brick walls.
“You should talk to your father. Don’t let things be awkward between you. He would be glad to have his daughter in his life again. And when you make a fortune from your investments, you can pay him back.”
Soo-Ja smiled at him. “How do you always know what to say to me?”
“Because I care too much,” he said, with a hint of playfulness in his voice. They were developing quite a repertoire that night, creating an act to take on the road, like the old clowns of yesteryear, who would travel to villages doing mask dances and comic routines.
“And why do you care ‘too much’?”
“Because you were my first love,” he said, taking the edge off the word by lingering on it. “Don’t you know, from the movies you see, that you never forget your first love?”
“It’s too bad you were never able to love anyone else,” said Soo-Ja teasingly.
“What makes you think I was never able to love anyone else?”
“Are you saying you love Eun-Mee?” asked Soo-Ja, in disbelief.
Yul laughed at Soo-Ja’s certainty. “In the beginning. She was a different woman when I met her.”
“Then maybe you should be talking to Eun-Mee right now,” said Soo-Ja, the sharpness in her voice half contrived, half real. “Should we head back?”
“No, wait,” said Yul.
The temperature seemed to drop further, and Soo-Ja could hear the howl of the wind as the cold lashed at her. It would be nice, she thought, if he put his arms around her. It would distract her mind; it would make the cold dissipate.
“Are you ever going to say it? How you feel about me?” asked Yul.
“I don’t know what you mean,” said Soo-Ja, though she did.
Soo-Ja and Yul stood in front of each other, waiting for the other to speak first, each afraid to break the moment. Then, sirens began to soar in the distance, announcing the end of curfew. Citizens would now be able to leave their homes and go to work, drive in the streets, and eat in restaurants. Soon roads would be filled with cars and pedestrians and smoke billowing out of buses. But for now, for those fleeting minutes, all was quiet, everyone still asleep.