93. Contract
“Need more wet wipes?”
“Nah, I’m good. …But, Oppa.”
“What?”
“…Can’t you look somewhere else right now?”
“Why?”
“You know why, you perv.”
After our intense lovemaking, we handled the cleanup together. Even if we brushed our teeth and washed our hands while in the bathroom, we couldn’t exactly take a full shower at this hour. We’d just wash up first thing in the morning. We tried to be as quiet and careful as possible, but sweat and fluids didn’t just vanish on their own. We’d opened the window for ventilation, and the wind was still chilly. It was mid-March now, but maybe because it was the dead of night. Who knew when it’d finally warm up.
“Cold, huh. Want an outer layer?”
“No, we can just cover up with the blanket and it’ll be warm enough.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Once the smell airs out, we can close the window… and it’ll be fine.”
We’d neatly gathered the beer glasses and cans on the table, finished cleanup, so even if we slept here in my room like this, there wasn’t much room for suspicion. But still.
“Gyeo-ul. Let’s talk here a bit more… and when we get sleepy, head to the living room to crash.”
“The living room?”
“I think the living room’s safer. …Falling asleep in my room after drinking looks more suspicious than crashing on the sofa together. If we lie down with our heads at opposite ends, it’ll be fine.”
But you never know. Even if we’d gotten better at lying, we had to minimize any openings. The smell might not fully air out. …Or I might end up undressing Gyeo-ul in my sleep. Even if not, we always ended up cuddling when we slept in the same bed. For a story that made more sense, the living room was safer. Tangled legs on the sofa wouldn’t look like full-on embracing.
“Tomorrow when we wake up, act like you have a hangover headache.”
Gyeo-ul, upset after hearing about Mom’s reconciliation, secretly downed drinks late at night. I couldn’t sleep either, feeling all tangled up inside, so I wandered to the living room and found my sister sipping beer in the kitchen. We opened up to each other as siblings, tilting glasses on the sofa until we both dozed off.
“I’ll act like I got some deep sleep but still look troubled. …Like we passed out drunk.”
“…Yeah. Got it.”
It was a perfectly plausible scenario. If you asked if we really needed to go this far, well… I wanted to sleep together tonight, no matter what. Not just tonight—every night.
“It’s almost 2:30 now, so let’s head to the living room around 3. We can talk till then.”
“…What about?”
Gyeo-ul burrowed deeper into my arms to hear my story. To feel this body heat for the rest of our lives, I needed a much better plan than the one I’d thought of earlier. If we could craft a solid story, we might even get away with falling asleep together from now on.
“We gotta talk about how we’ll live. Even if it’s just the two of us… we can’t really abandon Mom for real.”
We couldn’t abandon Mom. It wasn’t just about morality or guilt. If we were going to care that much, we never would’ve crossed the line with each other.
“Even if we move out on our own… honestly, we haven’t saved up a ton of money.”
Realistically, we couldn’t cut her off. Who was abandoning who, anyway? Even if our relationship got exposed, it wouldn’t be us ditching Mom. She’d be the one kicking us out. The power dynamic had flipped. She’d be the one abandoning us.
“College—we can swing scholarships somehow, cover the deposit with our savings… but rent and living expenses mean we’d need part-time jobs. That’d eat into study time, tank our scholarships, and… getting buried in work could strain things between us.”
When your body’s exhausted, your mind follows, and when your mind’s shot, even consideration for each other vanishes. No matter how much we loved one another, I didn’t think we’d never fight when we were both on edge physically and mentally.
“…And if we bail now because we hate Dad, Mom’ll probably drop the remarriage. …If we straight-up tell her no, she’d listen.”
I hated Dad. Couldn’t live with him. Either kick us out or don’t bring him home—pick one. If I gave Mom those two choices, she’d pick us siblings. …Because she loved us that much.
“Yeah. So at least until the remarriage… no, until they’re actually living together, we play nice. We act fine when they visit Korea, then start showing discomfort once they move back in… Second semester, college goes back in-person, so that’s when we say we’re moving out.”
The guilt lingering in the corner of my heart. The financial pressures closing in. The happiness we craved living alone. The excuse of independence. Mixing all those elements led to this conclusion. No matter what, I couldn’t cut ties with Mom. …Couldn’t live without ever seeing her face again. Not her.
“It looks risky leaving a girl alone, so I’ll say I’m moving in too.”
“…After graduation?”
About four years’ grace period until Gyeo-ul graduated. By then, people would be used to us meeting sporadically. We’d get used to living together. And when that day came,
“We’ll find a place and live together. If we say it’s more practical money-wise for two, Mom’ll get it. …No going abroad. Can’t see her at all there.”
We could check in during holidays or family events without running into each other much, still look after her. That was our compromise limit. Fleeing overseas and giving that up too would make us just like Dad. I didn’t want that.
“How do we even get a place? We’re broke.”
“We’ll ask someone to buy it for us.”
“…Mom?”
“No… Dad.”
So if we were scamming anyone, it’d be Dad. Not scamming, really, if you thought about it.
“Stroke his ego a bit, say we’re counting on him to take care of Mom… and squeeze him for a place or whatever. That guy owes us.”
He owed us more than we owed him growing up. Paying off over ten years of pretending we didn’t exist with money? That was a bargain.
“…Oppa, you’re such…”
“What. This is who I’ve always been. …Just decent with family. Trash to everyone else. Didn’t you know?”
“…No. I knew you were trash. …A total dog-trash who makes his little sister do all sorts of naughty stuff.”
“Harsh.”
At least it beat them realizing we’d committed incest. He’d substituted love with money so far; he could keep doing it. If he wanted family bonds, he should’ve acted like family.
“…Even if we say we’ll look after Mom forever, she’ll feel left out. Unless we give up everything and live purely as siblings—which we won’t—we need our own time together.”
“…Yeah.”
Siblings living together while caring for their mother. Sounds great. But weekends we ditch her for two-person trips, vacations always suspiciously overlapping—Jeju one time, overseas another—she’d feel sidelined. And it might not stop at feeling left out; trouble was bound to brew.
“Mom’s better off with… Dad anyway. If she hated it that much, she wouldn’t consider restarting.”
So maybe spending her later years with the man she loved was for the best. Trash dad to us didn’t mean trash husband to her. …Or maybe bad boyfriend turned okay husband. Who knew for sure, since I wasn’t Mom.
“Anyway, first semester here, travel together on break… Second semester, we move out together. …And keep living just us after.”
“…Yeah.”
“Like it?”
“…Love it. Really love it.”
Where to find a place? Studio or two-room? Would Mom okay us living together? …Would she understand even after graduation? Plenty of issues left, but this felt the most realistic so far. Mom wouldn’t be left lonely here, low risk of getting caught, free to love as we pleased, financially stable second-best option. The prior plans were just escapist fantasies, really. Like we wouldn’t get caught living as three? Or she’d understand if we did? Come on.
“So, no reward or anything?”
“…Reward?”
“You want us living together, and my head’s already foggy from booze, but I thought hard. …No prize?”
“…You got one earlier, dogperv. Want more already?”
“That was just the down payment for signing the contract.”
“…Close your eyes for a sec, Oppa.”
To claim her reward for going along my path, I shut my eyes. Gyeo-ul wriggled out from my arms and breathed warmly on my nose. Then she came close enough to feel her heat before vanishing, now puffing on my ear. …What’re you doing. I started to open my eyes to tell her to quit messing around, but she held my eyelids shut and spoke softly.
“Just like you said… after graduation, at 30, 40… even 100… if we live together forever… I’ll keep giving you rewards.”
“…Like what.”
“Anything you need. …Everything.”
“…Everything?”
“If you wanna hear I love you, I will.”
“I do.”
“…I love you.”
Her confession, breath louder than her voice’s vibration. So sweet.
“If you want a kiss… I’ll give it.”
“…”
No need for words; she smacked her lips. The immediate touch of her lips. Sweet as ever.
“My body… anything like that… all the naughty stuff you want… I’ll do it. Except the dirty stuff.”
“…We did that earlier, so I’m good for tonight.”
For a contract I’d fallen into via temptation, every reward was enticing. Enough to make my heart pound in this dawn hour.
“But you grant me one wish too.”
“What?”
“Don’t cheat.”
“I won’t. Never.”
“Just keep that promise… and I’ll reward you forever.”
“Got it. …Wanna write up a contract?”
“No way. It’s fine. …We’re family; we don’t need that stuff between us.”
“…True.”
Siblings didn’t need contracts. Verbal agreement sufficed. Nothing to show outsiders anyway; our promise was more than enough. The trust we wouldn’t break it was already overflowing.
“…Time to go, Oppa. I’m sleepy.”
“Yeah. Let’s go pretend we passed out drunk.”
“Okay.”
I’d made a dangerous contract. But the terms were impossible to refuse. Worth staking my life on. Now I had to deceive at least two people for life.