No Opening in Sight

It had been a long, long time since three people sat down to a meal at this table. Not once, in fact, since the divorce. And yet here we were—three of us, eating together in my house.

"Unni, did you make all of this yourself?"

My daughter asked Arin with a look of genuine satisfaction on her face.

"Of course. I prepped some of it ahead of time—the seasoned vegetables and things that would've been hard to finish in time for dinner."

"Wow, Unni, you're amazing!"

If there was one small disappointment, it was the form of address. Unni. Big sister. If she'd gone with Aunt, it might have grated a little less. But Arin didn't seem bothered in the slightest. If anything, she looked pleased.

Taking Unni and accepting her as Mom... that wouldn't come easily.

Right. For all I knew, my daughter was only saying it because it sounded nice to Arin's ears. I shouldn't overthink something like this.

"I'm actually pretty interested in cooking myself."

"Oh, really?"

Arin's face brightened even further. Sharing a hobby that pointed in the same direction was essential for building a good relationship, after all.

I have to get close to sunbae's daughter as soon as I can.

That was what Arin had told me—the biggest reason she'd come to our house today, before my daughter got home. That was the point of this evening. Arin was here to close the distance with Min-ah, my daughter.

I loved Arin. I'd felt it with certainty today. I wanted to date her. I wanted to start living with her. No—I wanted to file the marriage papers this very instant, if I could.

But I couldn't. Because of Min-ah. Because I had no idea whether Min-ah liked Arin or hated her. I had survived this long because of Min-ah. She was the reason I was still alive. I could not marry anyone my daughter opposed.

And yet I couldn't give Arin up, either. Arin understood that better than anyone. What she wanted—marriage, with me—could only happen if she won over the person I held most precious. You couldn't persuade someone into accepting a new family. In the end, you had to melt into their life until it felt natural.

That was true. I'd never paid that much attention to my relationships with other people. The ones who approached me on their own were already more than enough—burdensome, even. Looking after underclassmen, building connections... none of that had ever interested me.

I still remembered the first time I met Arin. A bright kid, almost boyish. But somewhere underneath, she seemed to be carrying a heavy weight. So when I found her hovering restlessly in front of the student cafeteria, I took her to eat. It must have been the dak-galbi place near campus.

"That dak-galbi we had that day. It was so good."

Arin had wrapped her arms around me. Her warmth rose against my chest.

"When we officially become a family, let's go back to that dak-galbi place."

Her arms had tightened, sinking deeper into me. I didn't mind. So I held her too. We stayed like that for a long time—and that was when my daughter arrived home.

"I actually have a Korean cuisine chef's certification, you know."

"So that's why it tastes this good. I'm jealous, Unni. I can't cook anywhere near this well."

"Want me to teach you, then?"

"...Sorry?"

A flicker of panic crossed Min-ah's face and vanished just as quickly.

"I've got a fair amount of time on the weekends. I could come here and teach you how to cook... What do you think, Min-ah?"

What Arin was after was more time with Min-ah. Teaching someone a shared hobby ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was one of the better ways to get it.

"Uh... I......"

Min-ah glanced at me, as if checking my reaction. She seemed uneasy about doing something with Arin on a weekend when I'd be home too.

"Dad's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fine with it. So how about giving it a try?"

"Ah......"

"If you pick up a few more techniques, the food my daughter makes for me will taste even better. I'm looking forward to it, honestly."

Only then did Min-ah's expression fully smooth out.

"...Okay! Then I will!"

"So we're doing this?"

"Yes, Unni! Please teach me!"

A complete success. The exact situation Arin and I had wanted had fallen into place perfectly. The board was set so that Arin could come to our house every week, as naturally as anything. And Min-ah didn't seem to have any real resistance to the idea.

Thank god.

Arin shot me a little wink, as if to say: mission accomplished.

"But Unni, there's one little thing."

"Hm?"

Min-ah lifted a piece of meat from the doenjang stew with her chopsticks and held it up.

"Dad prefers a clam broth to a meat broth, actually."

She wasn't wrong. A meat stock could leave the soup a little heavy, so I usually used hard-shell clams to keep the flavor clean and briny. The side dishes were already mostly meat anyway—there didn't seem much point in putting meat in the stew as well.

"Your doenjang stew is delicious, Unni... but I think it would've been even better with a clam broth."

"Ah... ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ha......"

My daughter was smiling as she said it, but it was a perfectly executed little jab. The pleasant atmosphere sank in an instant.

Bubble. Bubble.

The only sound filling the table was the kettle, set on a low flame to prepare tea after the meal.

Nobody's face hardened. Nobody's expression crumpled. Everyone was still smiling. And yet—that flash of silence. Thirty seconds, maybe. Why did that stretch of quiet feel so unbearably suffocating?

"Min-ah, do you like scallops?"

"I do. They're Dad's favorite, so he steams them for me sometimes."

"Oh, perfect."

Arin clapped her hands together, delighted. Min-ah looked at her, a little bewildered.

"There's a scallop farm out in Goseong, on the east coast, that sells direct. They've even got a spot next door where you can grill them over charcoal... and the best part is the place sits right on the water, so you can eat grilled scallops looking out at the sea. That's the killing point!"

Smack. Arin struck her palm once, hard.

"And both sunbae and I love scallops! You can steam them at home, sure, but grilling them properly is a different story, right?"

Arin beamed.

Arin's sudden proposal of a trip. Yeah... nothing closes the distance faster than traveling together. Her judgment was quick and bold. She would have felt it in Min-ah's comment just now—the gap between herself and Min-ah. That faint, unnameable discomfort. And she meant to overcome it with a trip.

"Uh... Dad? Is that okay? I'm fine with it, but... I don't want you to get tired......"

Min-ah used me as her excuse. She was wrapping her own reluctance in concern for me and offering it up as consideration.

"There's a gorgeous hotel near there, too. One with its own private beach—and every room faces the ocean, so you can watch the sunrise from inside!"

Honestly, I'd been moved ever since the scallops came up. Arin had had a miserable childhood. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠She'd never been on a trip in her life. And here she was, rattling off shops and lodgings in a region she'd never even visited, without a single hitch.

That was it, then. She'd prepared all of this from the start, to get a trip approved. If the conversation hadn't drifted toward scallops, there would have been a Plan B, a Plan C.

The Arin I knew was a hard worker. She overcame what she lacked through sheer effort. Her relationship with my daughter was no different. She was working at it. But there was one thing that set her apart from the Arin I'd known before: her assertiveness. Until now, Arin had worked and waited for someone to notice. Not anymore. She was going after what she wanted with a startling amount of drive.

"Eating scallops by the ocean, watching the sunrise... I think all of sunbae's fatigue would just melt away. What do you say?"

I couldn't let that effort of hers come to nothing.

"Now that you mention it, it does sound pretty good. What does my daughter think?"

"Uh... if Dad's okay with it... then I am too!"

A slightly lukewarm response, but better than I'd expected. Awkwardness like this was exactly what a trip could fix.

"Thank you for going along with it, Min-ah."

Arin broke into a wide, radiant smile. Min-ah received it a little awkwardly.

"Ah... I don't think Unni needs to thank me for that."

"No. I'm just grateful."

Arin, sitting right beside her, pulled Min-ah into a sudden hug.

"Uh... Unni!"

Min-ah was thoroughly flustered.

"Unni......"

"That's why I'm saying thank you."

"......"

The fluster drained away, and Min-ah's face stiffened, just slightly.

"Can you understand that?"

"...Yes."

Min-ah's short reply. Bubble. Bubble. Once again, the sound of the kettle was the only thing filling the room.

Nothing much happened after that. We drank the apple tea and green tea Arin had prepared, and talked about this and that.

"Oh my... look at the time."

Arin stood up. Eleven at night. Late, by any measure.

"It's gotten that late already."

"I still have to pack for the move, so... I should probably get going."

Arin pulled on her clothes in a hurry and headed for the front door.

"I'm sorry I couldn't stay to do the dishes."

"You cooked for us. I'm not about to put you on dish duty too."

"Unni, I'll take care of that, so don't worry."

"Okay. Then I'll see you Saturday, Min-ah?"

"Yes, Unni. Get home safely."

The door clicked shut.

"Ugh, I'm so sleepy."

Min-ah yawned.

"I'm going to bed too. I guess the long trip wore me out."

That was fair. Min-ah had never traveled that far on her own before. She had every reason to be stressed and exhausted.

"Ah... yeah."

The same Min-ah as always. And yet—how was I supposed to put it? What was this faintly alien feeling I couldn't name?

"Good night, Dad."

"Yeah. You get some sleep too."

A door closed.

......

Something was missing......

Just my imagination, probably. The tension I'd been holding finally let go, and I felt the strength drain out of me all at once. I was tired. I should get to sleep.

I went into the master bedroom.

Min-ah locked her bedroom door. Then she dropped onto the bed, face-down, and buried her face in the pillow.

Thud. She drove her fist into it as hard as she could.

"I lost......."

Thud!

"I lost completely...!!"

Thud!

A low, grinding mutter, pitched so her father wouldn't hear. But it was packed full of rage.

"...What even is that woman... how did she... how much did she prepare before she walked in here......"

She had tried to shut Arin out without her father noticing. But there hadn't been a single opening. Min-ah was swallowed whole by a sense of utter defeat.

Thud!

Thud!

The fists sinking into the pillow only grew harder. A frustration that would not loosen its grip wrapped itself around every inch of her.

For Min-ah, it had been the worst day of her life.