Thursday Night, 9:30 PM
Thursday night, 9:30 PM, some time after that day. Sitting in my studio chair, I added the final shadows to an illustration right before its deadline. The pen glided across the screen. One stroke. Two strokes. The colors settled into place. The monitor clock ticked over from 9:31 to 9:32.
It had been a quiet day. I didn't have any personal training sessions, Dain had gone to school, and Chaewon was at work. Seojin had sent me a text message this morning saying Yuri was going to sleep over at her maternal grandmother's house.
Her saying she wouldn't disturb me actually weighed on my mind. Normally, she would just send something like, "Yuri says she misses you, mister." Today, it was a single line that felt like she was intentionally keeping her distance.
I had been working for two hours after finishing the dinner dishes. The pen wasn't flowing smoothly. *Ring.* My phone buzzed.
My hand stopped. I stared at the screen. Before I could reply, another line popped up.
I hesitated for a moment. Two beats. I set the pen down.
Just three words. After sending it, the brevity of my own message bothered me. *Maybe I shouldn't have put a period. Or maybe I should have sent an emoticon instead.* Deciding it was fine as it was, I left it alone. I turned off my tablet pen and stepped out of the studio.
I turned on the living room lights. The dining table was brightly illuminated. Thinking it was a bit too bright, I switched off the main light and turned on only the floor lamp. But then, it felt too dark.
"...What am I doing?"
I muttered to myself, switching the main light back on. Then, I went to the bathroom, quickly ran a hand through my hair, and came back out. Catching my own reflection in the mirror, I felt ridiculous and turned my back on it.
Less than five minutes later, the doorbell rang. I opened the door. Seojin stood there holding a bottle of wine. She was still in her work clothes from the cafe—a linen dress under a beige cardigan, with her hair swept over to one side.
"I'm sorry for dropping by so late," she said.
"No, it's fine."
"Since Yuri isn't here... would it be alright if I had a drink with you?"
"Come on in."
Seojin sat down at the dining table. She placed the wine bottle on the kitchen island. The label indicated it was Chilean—a dark red label with small, elegant lettering.
"Do you have glasses?" she asked.
"I do."
I took two wine glasses out of the cupboard. Since I rarely used them, they had a thin layer of dust. I wiped them down with a dry dishcloth. Seojin watched me, letting out a soft chuckle.
"Do you drink wine, Siu?"
"Occasionally."
"If it's only occasionally, then you must not drink it very often."
"Yeah."
"How was the cafe today?"
"It was quiet. A light drizzle started falling, so I decided to start inventory early."
Seojin lightly pulled her cardigan closer. The exhaustion of closing up shop lingered on her shoulders, but it actually made her look more relaxed. Her face was stripped of her professional customer-service smile.
I uncorked the bottle and poured.
"Cheers," she said.
We lightly clinked our glasses. A clear, ringing sound echoed through the quiet living room.
I took a sip. The fruity aroma was rich, with a sharp acidity that bloomed in my mouth. The main light above the table cast long shadows over our wine glasses.
Seojin took a sip, then set her glass down. She wrapped both hands around the stem. Her fingers traced a slow circle around it, paused, and then traced another.
"Siu," she murmured.
"Yes?"
"Um..."
"Yes?"
"...Do you remember that day?"
That day. She didn't even have to ask for me to know. The night Yuri had run a fever in the early hours of the morning, and Seojin had come over to borrow fever reducers. In this very living room. The way she had stood on her tiptoes to press her lips against mine. And the way I had pulled her back in to kiss her again. The scent of lavender and the taste of mint toothpaste.
"I remember."
"I see."
Seojin lifted her glass again and took another sip. Her cheeks flushed. She was the type whose face turned red after just a single glass.
"I had a lot on my mind that night."
"..."
"Why did I reach out to you like that? At first, I couldn't figure it out."
Seojin toyed with the stem of her glass. Her fingers were long and slender.
"But that was the answer. The fact that I didn't know. It meant it was natural enough that I didn't even have to think about it."
Her words were gentle, carrying no heavy weight. It was the usual Seojin. She didn't realize that her casual delivery actually made them feel much heavier.
Seojin let go of her glass and lightly clasped her hands on the table. There was a small burn scar on the back of her hand, likely from the espresso machine at the cafe. A mark that usually went unnoticed was clearly visible under this lighting.
"Siu."
"Yes."
"It's been a while since my divorce. During that time, I never had feelings for anyone. I only focused on Yuri."
"..."
"But I keep finding myself coming over to your place. Not because Yuri begs me to, but because I use Yuri as an excuse to bring her here."
It was the first time I was hearing this. I had always heard her say, "Yuri wanted to see you." She spoke the words that completely overturned that excuse with absolute serenity.
Seojin looked up. The dining table light reflected in her warm brown eyes.
"And that scares me."
I set my glass down. The wine rippled slightly. The shadow on the table's surface trembled briefly before settling.
"Do you know why it scares me?"
"..."
"Because I'm afraid I'll start liking someone again. Afraid that it'll all start over."
Seojin's voice trembled ever so slightly. The more she trembled, the softer her tone became. She was a strange woman.
"...I'm sorry. I didn't expect to say all this over a single glass of wine."
"It's alright."
My voice was low too. At this distance, speaking loudly felt wrong.
"Seojin."
"Yes?"
"...I'm the same way."
Seojin looked at me with a slightly startled expression.
"There was someone I broke up with three years ago. We dated for four years. One day, I came home early and found her in bed with my close friend. Ever since then, the very concept of emotional proximity has terrified me."
"..."
"Lee Sua."
It was the first time I had spoken her name aloud. A name I had never uttered to anyone. Once it left my mouth, it felt surprisingly light. After three years, it had finally escaped as spoken words. It felt as though the letters that had been floating hazily in my mind for so long were finally laid down on the table, right next to the wine glasses.
"Lee Sua. It's... been a long time since I've said that name."
Seojin nodded slowly. Her expression was accepting, not prying. That was one of the wonderful things about her. She didn't ask where we met, how it ended, or where she lived now. She didn't ask any of those things.
"Thank you for telling me," she said softly.
"..."
"I was scared too. Scared of getting close to you, Siu. But I still kept coming back."
Seojin lifted her wine glass again. She took a sip and set it down. A drop of wine clung to her lips. She unconsciously licked it away. It was a tiny gesture, but my gaze was drawn to it. Two plates, a wine bottle, and two glasses sat on the table. The silence flowing between them felt strangely heavy.
"Do you... feel that way too, Siu?"
"...Yes."
My reply was delayed. Two beats. The hesitation was completely obvious. Normally, I would have spat out a "yes" much faster.
Seojin set her glass on the table and stood up. The chair scraped softly against the floor. The hem of her cardigan swayed, catching slightly on the chair before slipping free.
"Stand up for a second."
I stood up as well. The sound of my chair legs scraping the floor felt louder than usual. The table no longer stood between us. One step. Two steps. Seojin walked around the table toward me. Her steps were slow, each one carrying a brief moment of hesitation.
She was close. Just a single step away. Seojin's height barely reached my chin. She looked up at me. Her brown eyes caught the light. Between the lapels of her cardigan, the delicate line of her collarbone was faintly visible.
"Siu," she whispered. Her voice was a register lower than usual.
"Yes," I whispered back, my own voice sounding foreign to my ears.
Seojin's hand reached up and rested on my forearm. She didn't apply any pressure; she just let it rest there. The edge of her cardigan sleeve brushed lightly against my wrist.
The distance between us closed. I couldn't tell who had moved first. The scent of wine grew closer. Our breaths mingled. The faint, distinct scent of Seojin drifted to the tip of my nose.
My hand rose. I tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Her wavy brown hair slipped through my fingers. My fingertips brushed against her ear. Seojin closed her eyes briefly before opening them again, her eyelashes fluttering.
Three centimeters between our lips. Two centimeters. As the distance shrank, time seemed to warp, slowing down to a quarter of its usual pace. A single breath stretched out endlessly. The shadow of the wine bottle on the table seemed frozen in place. Seojin's eyes closed.
*Ring.* Seojin's phone buzzed inside her cardigan pocket. We both froze. Seojin opened her eyes. Our lips remained just inches apart. We breathed each other's air. One beat. She stayed still, as if she wouldn't answer unless it rang again.
*Ring.* At the second vibration, Seojin finally lowered her gaze.
"...I'm sorry."
She took a step back. She smoothed the collar of her cardigan—adjusting it even though nothing was out of place. She pulled out her phone and looked at the screen.
"Oh dear... I guess Yuri isn't asleep yet."
"Go ahead and answer it."
"Yuri, it's Mommy. You need to go to sleep. Yes. I'll come pick you up tomorrow morning. I love you."
She hung up and turned back to face me. Her face was flushed red. Whether it was from the wine, the atmosphere, or both, I couldn't tell.
"...I should probably go," she murmured.
"Okay."
"I'm sorry. The mood was..."
"It's fine."
Seojin looked at the wine bottle. It was half empty. She gently pushed the cork back in. After a brief hesitation, she left it on the table.
"I'll... leave this here. For next time."
"Alright."
*Next time.* The phrase "next time" lingered on the table, feeling heavier than the wine bottle itself. Those words sat quietly on the table, right beside the bottle.
At the front door, Seojin paused. She looked back at me. Her expression was a mix of apology and something else entirely. Her cheeks were still flushed red from the two glasses of wine.
"Siu."
"Yes?"
"...Thank you for tonight."
"Goodnight, Siu."
"Goodnight, Seojin."
The door closed. A beat later, the sound of the neighboring door opening and closing echoed through the wall. I was left alone in the living room. I turned off the main light, leaving only the floor lamp on. On the table sat the wine bottle and two glasses. One of the glasses bore a faint trace of lipstick—a light pink smudge on the rim.
The sensation of brushing against the back of Seojin's ear still lingered on my fingertips. The softness of her hair. The curve of her warm skin. Two centimeters. *If only her phone hadn't rung.*
"...Sigh."
I sat down on the sofa and stared at the ceiling. For a brief moment, I had envisioned what would have happened next. Our lips meeting. Right beside the dining table. Her cardigan slipping off her shoulders. The table shaking. The wine glasses tipping over. The dark red liquid spilling across the white tabletop.
I cut off the fantasy, shaking my head to clear it. Once more, the words *next time* came to mind. Just like the wine bottle Seojin had left behind, sitting quietly on the table. The half-empty wine cast a dark red shadow.
We hadn't set a date. I would get as close to her as she allowed. Matching her pace was all I needed to do right now. Step by step. Without rushing, yet without backing down. That much I knew.
I walked over to the table and cleared the wine glasses. Instead of leaving them as they were, I slowly wiped them down with a dishcloth. I wiped for a long time, only stopping when I felt a strange pang of regret as the faint lipstick mark vanished. I left the wine bottle where it was, with the cork pushed back in, sitting on one side of the table—like another name for "next time."
By the time I turned off the lights and went to bed, it was 1:00 AM. I thought about the past three years. The years I had spent burying the name Lee Sua. The years I had never shared a glass of wine with anyone. The years I had never reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind anyone's ear. That era had ended tonight, right at that dining table.
I didn't know exactly how it had ended. I just knew that it was over. When I closed my eyes, I could see her brown eyes. The moment they closed. Her trembling lower lip. The brief silence right before the phone rang. The touch of her ear still lingered on my fingertips. Her hair, smelling faintly of soap. Her breath, laced with the scent of wine. And the last words she had spoken.
*Goodnight, Siu.*
It was a mundane greeting, yet it felt entirely different. Even though the words were the same, their weight had changed. The same two words, spoken by the same person in the same place, but tonight, they lingered a beat longer. There would be a next time. With that single certainty, I fell asleep.