Afterglow of the Party Room, Junho's Proposal
We returned to everyday life.
No—it was nothing like before.
After that day I found myself watching Mijeong for no reason at all. She moved through the house exactly as she always had. Her hands were still soft when she poured the morning coffee, yet the tips of her fingers trembled the slightest bit when she set the cup down. That tiny tremor only made me more uneasy.
I even held back from the spontaneous sex we used to fall into without thinking. On mornings when the sheets still held the heat of her body, I did not reach for her. I simply watched her back, noticing how the line of her shoulders had gone faintly rigid.
That day was the same as any other, and yet it was not.
Ding-dong.
“Jin, we’re here.”
Friday evening. My father-in-law and mother-in-law had come. Mijeong met them at the door in neat clothes. The moment her fingers closed around the doorknob, the tendons on the back of her hand stood out. A draft from the opening door stirred her hair.
“Welcome.”
My father-in-law kicked his shoes off roughly and stepped inside. The sound of them hitting the floor echoed low in the entryway. My mother-in-law followed, quietly lining up the shoes he had left scattered, and the faint scent of her old perfume drifted in with her. The air grew a little heavier; the temperature inside the house seemed to rise by a fraction of a degree.
“Aigoo, I’m dying of thirst. Mijeong, water.”
“Yes…”
He dropped heavily onto a dining chair, the legs scraping the floor with a short, dry squeal. My mother-in-law went looking for the child at once.
“Doyun!”
My father-in-law drained the glass Mijeong brought him in great gulps. His throat worked hard; water spilled down his chin and darkened the collar of his shirt. His rough breath stirred the air above the table.
“Aigoo, that hits the spot.”
He cast a slow look around the apartment. His gaze stopped on the new water purifier standing in one corner of the kitchen. One eyebrow lifted. Light glanced off its surface in a faint gleam.
“What’s this? You got a water purifier.”
I sat down across from him.
“We got it for Doyun.”
“Aigoo. Raise a daughter and she just becomes someone else’s family.”
“Father, it’s not like that these days.”
“Look at her. Not even a phone call. A son’s the only one worth anything.”
He jabbed a finger toward Mijeong. I only laughed it off. The sound of my laughter lightened the air for a second, then the heavy silence settled back down.
“Won’t you stay for dinner?”
“No need. Still no news, I take it?”
He was asking about a second child.
I had heard the story from Mijeong long ago.
My father-in-law had been a seaman. After marrying my mother-in-law he had a son he adored beyond reason. When he went out on the boats he took the boy with him, dreaming that the child who looked so much like him would one day become a captain too. A violent storm took the boy. The shock drove my father-in-law into years of heavy drinking. When he finally tried for another son, the child who arrived was Mijeong—a daughter, not a son. After that my mother-in-law underwent major surgery and could never conceive again.
He was a rough sea dog in speech and manner, yet beneath the scars of his youth his heart was warm. He never spoke of the guilt he carried for the loss of his son, but he cherished my mother-in-law in quiet ways. With Mijeong, however, there was always an exception: stern, cold, distant. Even after decades the look in his eyes still said he wished she had been a boy. When Doyun was born he did not come to see the child until she was a year old, simply because she was a girl.
Every holiday he asked me about a second child—more precisely, about a son. I had no desire for another and always answered that there was no news. Time passed; impatience grew. He retired and moved closer to Seoul. From then on he appeared every other Friday evening, took Doyun with him, and returned her Sunday night. The intention was plain: free of the child, we were to make a second one. Each visit he brought food said to be good for the body.
He finished only the single glass of water and urged my mother-in-law along.
“Get the kid ready. Let’s go.”
“Yes… Doyun, come on.”
Our five-year-old daughter slung her little backpack over her shoulder and took her grandmother’s hand. Her small fingers closed tightly around the wrinkled back of that hand; a soft warmth passed between them.
“Doyun, have a good time.”
Mijeong’s voice was a full tone lower than usual. The line of her throat looked tight with tension.
“What are you going to do with Grandma this time?”
“She said the things we planted last time grew, so we’re going to look at them together.”
I stroked Doyun’s hair; the strands slid smoothly under my palm. Fortunately she always looked forward to time with her grandmother. The puppy she loved at their house helped. The soft feel of its fur and the warmth of its body would stay in the child’s memory.
Before leaving, my father-in-law fixed me with a look.
“You’re not getting any younger. Hurry up and give us a grandson.”
The door slammed. Like a sea storm he swept out, and the house fell quiet. The silence felt wrong. We still had not spoken of what happened in the party room; neither of us could bring it up. With the lively presence of the child gone as well, the air inside grew heavier still. Afternoon light stretched long across the floor; dust motes drifted slowly through it.
“I’m going out for a smoke.”
“Okay.”
I walked to the apartment complex’s smoking area. While I smoked I decided to watch how things developed a little longer. Smoke climbed my lungs and stung the back of my throat. Wind scattered the ash; the thick air settled against my skin.
When I came back inside, Doyun’s absence felt enormous. The empty chair at the table caught my eye. Mijeong had finished the dishes and was sitting on the sofa with the television on. She faced the screen, yet her body was rigid—spine straight, fingers trembling faintly on her knees. The glow of the set lit her face in a pale wash; tiny reflections moved in her eyes.
I sat beside her and started to put my arm around her, then stopped. The silence between us thickened into a wall. The air sank heavy; even our breathing grew quiet.
Saturday morning. At the breakfast table Mijeong still set out the meal exactly as always. Without Doyun the house was quieter still. Her unreadable mood pressed on me more and more. Even when she smiled or spoke, something hidden moved beneath the surface. When her gaze brushed my face and then slid away, her eyelids lowered a fraction. I could not read what it meant.
By lunchtime I could stand it no longer. I stepped outside, lit a cigarette, and called Junho. After a few rings his voice came through.
“Hyung-nim.”
“Junho, free for a drink after work today?”
“Sure. I’ll finish up and head over near your place.”
I hung up and let out a long breath. When the time came I told Mijeong I was going out for drinks with Junho. She nodded, but her eyes remained unreadable. Her fingers made a tiny scraping motion along the edge of the table.
That evening Junho arrived at the beer hall near our building. We sat across from each other and poured. Foam slid down the sides of the glasses with an unusually loud sound; cold droplets speckled the table. The clink of our glasses was low and dull.
I raised mine first.
“Mijeong’s… been strange lately.”
Junho set his glass down and looked at me. His eyes grew serious. His finger slowly traced the rim.
“How so?”
“Since the party room… she acts the same as always, but something’s different. Her eyes, the atmosphere around her… I don’t know.”
He drained half his beer in long swallows, then folded his arms and lowered his head. After a moment he looked up again.
“Just in case, maybe we should recreate the situation.”
“What situation?”
He began to explain. His voice was low and even, filling the air above the table.
“From noona’s point of view, after marriage the first man she gave her body to besides you was me. Of course she’s confused.”
“You think so?”
“It wasn’t dating, breaking up, meeting someone new. She was already belonging to someone when she offered herself to another man.”
I listened quietly and drank. The cold liquid slid down my throat and chilled my stomach.
“And she came so hard she almost blacked out.”
Junho’s throat seemed dry; he finished what was left in his glass, then lifted the empty bottle overhead to signal the staff for another. A moment later a full glass was set in front of him. Once the server had gone he spoke again.
“She felt that with me—not with you.”
“Yeah.”
“She’s probably still reeling.”
When I tilted my head he continued.
“I don’t know her past, so I can’t be sure, but the first time she felt an orgasm that intense… she discovered a kind of sex she never knew existed. Now she has a comparison.”
“……”
The word “comparison” pricked my pride. Living skin to skin with Mijeong all these years, I had never once given her that kind of stimulation. The thought stung.
“So we try again. To see exactly where she stands.”
“……”
“And to get her used to pleasure on a completely different level.”
He suggested we go back to the house and drink with her. Curious about the test he had in mind, I settled the tab and walked home with him.