That Man's Endless Silence
That man's inscrutable silence stretched on. Only the occasional sound of him swallowing and his voice finally breaking through again. ...This is fucking awkward. How the hell was I supposed to know he'd bolt to the bathroom and come back with puffy eyes? It wasn't like I'd said anything unforgivable.
"...Son."
"Yes."
"Thank... thank you."
"...Pardon?"
What the hell was this guy on about? Did he seriously think I'd smack him or something?
"Yeah, we should move in together. ...I've gotta apologize to your mom too."
"No, if you're remarrying, weren't you planning to live separately?"
"...If you kids hated it, yeah."
Dad's voice trembled as if he were mulling something over. The more I watched him like that, the more my anger boiled up. I hadn't planned on getting this pissed.
Maybe because I could guess what was churning inside him?
"Dad."
He'd probably sobbed his guts out in the bathroom, his whole life flashing by like a panorama. Even if Dad was a total piece of shit, life abroad alone couldn't have been easy. He'd scraped together money somehow and dragged himself back to Korea, only to find the wife he'd abandoned still waiting. And the kids he'd ditched right alongside her telling him to come live with them. Yeah, that could bring tears to anyone's eyes...
"You seem to be misunderstanding something. Do you think we've forgiven you?"
"...No. That's for later..."
"Yup, total misunderstanding. How could I forgive you, Dad?"
As if. Wishful thinking had its limits. How could we forgive Dad?
"...Son."
"Forgiveness or not, I don't think anything of you, Dad. I don't even know you. How do you expect me to forgive a stranger?"
We didn't have the right to forgive him in the first place. We weren't full accomplices... but victims turned defendants in the same crime. Not that I planned to clue him in.
"If you want forgiveness or to apologize, do it to Mom—not us. I'll acknowledge you as Mom's boyfriend, so don't try playing dad when it doesn't suit you. Please."
I knew even I thought that was pretty brutal verbal abuse. It had to hurt way more than some kid cursing him out. I'd shoved it right in his face: never thought of him as Dad, no interest, no plans to change. Twice, even.
"...I'm sorry."
See? Those already swollen eyes were welling up again.
"Don't apologize to us. Apologize to the mom who raised us. How many times do I have to say it?"
"...I'm sorry."
He really didn't get it. I knew he had nothing else to say. But being stuck on "sorry" was his own karma—not exactly pitiful.
"If you're that sorry, let me ask one thing. Do you still love Mom?"
"I love her. ...I love your mom a lot."
"You hated her back when you divorced, right?"
"...I loved her then too. Loving her... made the fights hurt more."
"What were the fights even about? Did one of you cheat?"
"Never. Son. We were both swamped with work, stressed out, snapping over nothing. ...Emotions got raw for no reason. And then... it was hard to smooth over."
No matter how much I prodded, I'd probably never get a straight answer. Dad himself didn't seem to know exactly why they'd divorced. Mom probably didn't either. They fought from stress amid the grind, hit a peak, talked overseas moves or whatever, and boom—it all fell apart. Sounded like bullshit... Honestly, unless you were there, it didn't make sense. If that's grounds for divorce, the world's overflowing with them... Well, it was packed. Marriage wasn't easy.
"So you fought, divorced, lived apart, and now you miss each other again?"
"I feel bad for your mom too. Fights and all, those years together..."
"Ah, yeah. Whatever. I get the gist. Take good care of our mom from now on. We might bump into you when we visit her sometimes... Don't act all awkward. Don't make Mom uncomfortable. We'll play along just fine..."
I didn't want to burn bridges with Dad or cut ties. Sure, we'd been estranged all these years... but that wasn't on me. If possible, I wanted to build something constructive with my father.
"...Son."
"Yes."
"What... should I do for you...?"
"What do you mean, seriously."
"I'll do anything I can. So..."
"...You mean that?"
Dad nodded without a hint of doubt. ...Time to go for it? Anyway, per Mom, he'd sent plenty of living expenses. That should cover things going forward.
"This is the last bit of trust I can give you, Dad. ...You'll really do anything?"
"I'll do it all. Anything..."
Perfect timing to negotiate.
"You know Gyeo-ul and I are living on our own."
"Yeah. Rooms or whatever, I'll handle..."
"Let me finish. Not a studio—buy us a house. Can't leave her alone right after high school, so we'll live together."
As long as we kept the biggest secret buried, we held the power. Just don't blab about our relationship. Would Dad suspect? Whatever. Even if he did, he wouldn't breathe a word.
"...You two are really close, huh?"
"Guess she doesn't have anyone but me besides Mom to lean on. She sticks to me good."
No harm probing like that. Even if I said Gyeo-ul saw her real bro like a dad figure, Father couldn't argue. His fault, after all.
"We'll both marry and start families eventually, but who knows when... And Gyeo-ul's pretty attached to you, Dad. Unlike me."
"..."
"But she adores Mom, so doesn't want to mess with the reconciliation."
"...Uh."
"That's why she wants to move out... but ditching a fresh high school grad alone feels wrong. Independence hits eventually—with uni or a job. Just buy the house now. Prices'll climb anyway."
Not sure if he'd seen it coming, but if Dad had the cash, it was a solid, realistic ask. Reconcile with the wife who'd waited, ease some guilt toward the kids. Bargain, right? He'd left to make money—repay with money.
"If you don't want to, fine. We'll part-time and rent a studio. Can't leave my sis anyway..."
"No. Son. ...Yeah. I'll get you a house."
I knew my pitch was underhanded. Materialistic as hell... But he'd lived underhanded and materialistic too, so suck up this much selfishness. Trash genes make trash sons—deal with it, Dad.
"And we'll visit Mom at least every other week. Gotta act buddy-buddy then, right? Don't make it weird between us. Mom'd feel guilty."
"...Yeah, your mom would."
"So don't try playing caretaker. Keep it casual. ...Just look after Mom good. Please."
Trash or not, who else was there to entrust Mom to? I couldn't find a way to make both her and Gyeo-ul happy at once. Nothing beat grandkids for her joy, but kids with Gyeo-ul... yeah, not happening. If neither worked, better with the one guy left standing.
"...Anything else?"
"Call Mom later. Tell her we talked fine."
"...Okay."
"Do better from now on, please. We turned out fine, no lacks. Mom had it rough."
"Got it. ...I'll do right."
"Words don't convince me—skip 'em. ...See you around. I'm out."
"Son. Let me drive you..."
"House is close anyway. No need. Head in."
I turned from the clinging Dad and strode out of the cafe. ...Bittersweet. Might have to spill someday. But I wanted to hide it as long as possible. Till our late fifties? By then, libidos crash—we'd bicker like a cute old couple. No kids, no sex, basically siblings? If the three perps teamed up, we might just pull it off.
"Gyeo-ul."
"Yeah, Oppa."
Walking briskly home, I called my last accomplice. This whole Dad chat? My solo call.
"Just saw Dad. Heading home now."
"...What'd you talk about?"
"Asked for a house."
"...What?"
"Said we'd live out together, so he's buying."
Of course, hiding meant needing Dad's help... but sorry, zero trust yet. Couldn't bare our souls to a stranger. If trust piled up over repeats, maybe then. Wouldn't treat him like Dad, but accomplice tier? Yeah.
"For real...?"
"...Said some harsh shit too, but that's the upshot."
"You didn't hit him or curse...?"
"You think I'm violent like you?"
"...You look plenty violent when we shower together."
"Different kind."
"...Got it. Kidding. Good job, Oppa."
"Thanks, even if it's empty."
"Hey, never empty with you."
Trading dumb jokes, I drew nearer to my loved ones. Sigh... Keeping Gyeo-ul happy exhausted me enough... Even if I hated it, I hoped Dad made Mom happy. If he pulled that off... might even treat him like a real dad. Tough? Yeah. If it was hard for me, it'd be brutal for him.