“He cares about you,” Jihoon said. His teeth gritted, like he was reluctant to say the words. “Even I can see that. He didn’t do what he did just for me. He did it because of how he feels about you. That doesn’t just go away.”
“He’s lived a dozen lifetimes; maybe love means something different to him.”
Jihoon shrugged. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But I don’t think you should give up on him.”
“I don’t know if I have your annoying tenacity,” Somin said. “If someone doesn’t want me around, then I can take the hint.”
“That’s not the Lee Somin I know,” Jihoon said with a frown. “You never give up on people.”
“Even I get tired sometimes. I can’t fight for everyone’s soul.”
“I’m sorry,” Jihoon said.
“Why? It’s not your fault.”
“I think it is. After all, I’m the one you’ve been fighting for the past fifteen years. And I think it’s time you stopped.”
“What?” Somin’s heart lurched. A queasiness settled in her stomach. “I don’t understand.”
“Somin-ah,” Jihoon said quietly. “Why did you lie to me about remembering your father?”
“Because I didn’t want to hurt you,” Somin said slowly. She didn’t know if she wanted to dig this up, but she knew that she wanted to stop keeping secrets.
“Why would you think that would hurt me?”
“Because you had such horrible memories of your own father. It felt like I’d be flaunting my good memories if I told you I remembered. But I do remember him. And I miss him every day.” Tears fell down her cheeks, hot against her skin.
“Somin-ah, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you back then.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Well, no matter whose fault, I’m here now. And Junu was right.”
“Wow.” Somin let out a choked laugh. “Hell must have frozen over for you to say that.”
“Well, I’ve learned that the dokkaebi talks so much that statistically he has to get some things right.”
Somin laughed again, and she wiped away the last of her tears. “What was he right about?”
“You have to stop holding back what you feel just to take care of the rest of us. I don’t need it. Your mom doesn’t need it. Miyoung doesn’t need it.”
“I just . . . I don’t want to waste any time.”
“Why would living our own lives be wasting time?” Jihoon frowned.
“When my dad was alive, I don’t think I ever really appreciated him the way he deserved. And then he was just gone. I feel like I never realized how important he was to me until he wasn’t there anymore. And I just don’t want to lose out on the chance to make important memories with the people I love.”
“Oh, Somin.” Jihoon leaned forward and enfolded her in his arms. She wanted to push him away, she felt so embarrassed by the words that had come flooding out of her. Like those of a frightened child. But she couldn’t hide it anymore. It was like all the fear she’d felt this summer had barreled through the walls that had always kept this hidden.
She pulled out of Jihoon’s arms, averting her face. “I don’t know where the worry comes from. It’s just always been there.”
Jihoon nodded. “Even when my parents left me, I knew they were still alive out there somewhere. I knew that they weren’t completely gone from my life, no matter how much it felt like that. But now . . . after Halmeoni died, and now that my father’s really gone . . .”
Somin raised horrified eyes to him. She hadn’t meant to unlock this pain for him.
She started to say that they didn’t have to talk about this right now.
But Jihoon saw her expression and laid a hand on her shoulder. Comforting her even as she saw the tears pooling in his eyes. “I think I get it,” he said. “I wish every day that I’d realized how much Halmeoni did for me. And I regret every day that I wasn’t able to tell her that I’m so proud she’s the one who raised me. I think I do fear it a bit, losing you. Because I love you so much, too.”
That did it. The tears that Somin had been holding back this whole time rushed forward.
She leaned into him, and they held each other. “But,” he said into