This Burns My Heart Page 0,89

alone with him in the front area, and that the seconds ahead could stretch into minutes. She could feel her heart beating fast, alarms ringing through her body. She needed to get out. But as soon as she made her way to the front door, Mr. Shim rushed toward her and began to grab her, reaching for her arm and pulling at her clothes. Soo-Ja started to yell for help.

A few seconds later, a guest—a white-haired woman wearing a robe—appeared and tried to help Soo-Ja. Mr. Shim pushed her away, and the woman fell to the floor. As soon as she managed with difficulty to get up, the woman rushed to the back and started knocking on people’s doors.

Soo-Ja struggled to keep her clothes on, as Mr. Shim tried to overpower her. “Help me!” Soo-Ja yelled. “Help me!”

A male guest rushed out—a thin reed of a man dressed in a white undershirt and nighttime long johns. He tried to come to Soo-Ja’s aid, but Mr. Shim lunged drunkenly at him, forcing him to step back. The man appeared afraid of getting hit, and couldn’t seem to figure out how to stop Mr. Shim.

“Let go of me!” Soo-Ja yelled when Mr. Shim ripped her shirt, revealing the strap of her white bra underneath. Her hand flew over her exposed shoulder, and she held her arms crossed in front of her chest. Soo-Ja felt the tears form in her eyes.

Suddenly, just as she had given up hope that anyone would be able to help, Soo-Ja felt Mr. Shim being yanked away from her, his body pulled outward as though by powerful suction. She stood confused for a second, until she realized someone had grabbed Mr. Shim and thrown him to the floor. When Soo-Ja looked again she realized it was Yul, still wearing his doctor’s green scrubs. Yul started punching Mr. Shim until blood gushed out of the man’s face. When Mr. Shim tried to get up, Yul lifted him with his hands and knocked him against the wall.

Yul began yelling at him: “I-sae-kki! I-sae-kki! You goddamn son of a bitch!”

As Yul kept punching Mr. Shim, his scrubs became stained with red, and he looked as if he had just emerged from surgery. Mr. Shim kept spitting blood, as Yul hit his face over and over again. Soo-Ja heard the gasps from the guests watching. Knowing that she had to do something, Soo-Ja tried to stop Yul. “Let go of him, Yul. You’re killing him!” she yelled.

Yul grabbed Mr. Shim and tossed him against the opposite wall. Shim’s body made a loud thud and began to slide down toward the floor. Yul reached for him and pulled him up, and held his body in place, as he punched him in the stomach and ribs. Shim spat more and more blood.

“Yul, please stop. Let him go!” Soo-Ja pleaded.

Yul’s strength seemed almost supernatural. She had never seen it before—the power of his fists—and she wondered if he had kept his anger hidden, buried beneath hard soil until it could no longer be held down, finally breaking through as an earthquake.

Knowing she had to act, Soo-Ja pulled Yul away, grabbing him from behind, a strange kind of hug. His body felt heavy but warm against hers, and it came to her easily, glued to her, letting her pull him away from the bloody man, who fell to the ground. Soo-Ja saw that thankfully, Mr. Shim was still breathing.

Soo-Ja wondered how closely they had gotten to beating him to death. As she held Yul, her face against his back, her arms clutching his, she was struck by the realization that this was the first time she had touched him in years. Both of them breathed heavily. Soo-Ja feared that she would never have a chance to talk to him about what had just happened, and certainly not get to touch him as she wanted to but in the middle of this mess—a bloodied man screaming obscenities on the floor, a crowd looking on in both horror and approval—she was able to whisper quietly, in Yul’s ear (nobody saw it, she was still behind him), “Thank you.” In response, he discreetly squeezed her hand.

Mr. Shim rose slowly, his clothes covered in his own blood. Then, when he was completely up, he caught Yul’s face staring angrily back at him and, after a second of suspense, Mr. Shim suddenly ran out of the hotel, each leg practically knocking the other out of the way, arms flailing in disarray.

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