Chapter Text
Hyunjin didn’t know where it all went wrong. It seemed like one minute, everything was picture perfect. Then the next, it had all come to a crashing halt, like slamming the brakes on a speeding car and watching the world spin into a blur.
At least, that’s how it felt. Out of nowhere, her entire life had been snatched out from under her feet, and she couldn’t find anywhere to place them.
It made her sick. She couldn’t eat. She couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t think about anything except the impossible — which is what it had seemed liked when this thing, whatever it was, had started between them. Jisung couldn’t possibly have missed the change in his own behavior: how he went from always calling Hyunjin “baby” and “honey,” to barely acknowledging her presence. He came home late every night, hardly ever spent time with his sons, and if you tried to ask him to do anything, he was always “too busy.”
Hyunjin had lost track of the number of times she’d laid in bed late at night, while Jisung was still at work, pondering all the things that might have led to this. Did she forget an important date? Perhaps she never apologized for a previous argument? Was something going on at work?
No, it couldn’t have been any of those. When they first started dating, they swore to keep no secrets. No telling lies. Only the truth, even if it was blunt and ugly.
It could have been something else entirely — a concept she would have never suggested — but it made the most sense. But surely Jisung would never do that, right? He was an honest man. A good man. The perfect husband, the best father their sons could ever ask for. He worked hard, loved harder, and was never too far away from home.
Until recently, that is. His unusual antics had caught the attention of their youngest son, who cried himself to sleep in his mother’s arms because he was tired of mommy and daddy fighting. He was too young to understand any of this, Hyunjin knew that. But she didn’t know what to do. Every day, she was losing more and more hope that something would happen, that things might change.
Where did all the times go?
“Your brother called earlier,” Hyunjin announced over dinner. “He said he wants to bring Minho and Yongbok down for the weekend.”
She looked up from her plate and across the table to her husband, hoping he might respond. But as per usual, he said nothing. He continued to eat in silence, ignoring everyone. Even their five-year-old son, Chan, whose antics of making funny noises and telling weird stories usually held his father’s attention.
The young boy must have noticed for he looked at his mother with a confused look on his soft, chubby face. “Eomma?”
Hyunjin smiled at him, reaching over to wipe his face with a napkin. “It’s okay, sweet pea. Don’t play with your food.”
Chan giggled in response.
“Did you hear what I said?” Hyunjin turned back to Jisung, her eyes never leaving his face. “Seungmin wants to bring his family over.”
He looked up, frowning. “Yeah. I already know.”
“Oh.” Hyunjin blinked, unsure of what to say. “Did he talk to you, too?”
“Minho told me.”
His sister-in-law? When did she call? Jisung was at work, so of course it must have been during that time. Minho always called at odd hours, which Hyunjin had learned from Seungmin was just a trait of hers.
She didn’t mind. She’d gotten rather close to the other woman. She was younger than her, and a first time mother, meaning Hyunjin felt it in her to bestow whatever knowledge she had about raising children onto her whenever she asked. Otherwise, it was to each their own.
“That’s nice,” she said, poking at her food. “It has been a while since we saw them last. It’s been, what, almost two years?”
Jisung shrugged. “Since Yongbok was born.”
“Ah. She’ll be three now. What a difference…”
Hyunjin broke off, sensing her husband was no longer interested in making small talk — or any conversation whatsoever. She tried to keep the embarrassment off her face.
Changbin, their fifteen-year-old son and eldest child, tried to butt in. “So, uh…I have a project due next week. It’s for science."
"Do you know what it'll be about?" Hyunjin asked with a gentle voice.
"No. I'm still figuring it out. It's probably going to be about the body or something..." Changbin poked at his food. He looked up at his dad, his expression hopeful. "Can you help me with it?”
Jisung glanced at him. He shook his head. "I can't, son. I'm sorry." He stood up from the table, pushing his plate away. "I have a busy schedule ahead of me."
"Don't you always," Hyunjin mumbled.
Jisung didn't say anything. He just glared at her before walking away. Changbin fell quiet. He bit his lip before looking to his mother. “Um...I can probably manage if you don’t want to.”
But she just smiled at him. “Of course I’ll help you. Did you forget that I was a science nerd and an art nerd?”
At that, her son grinned, his face a bit brighter. “Yeah. Thanks, mom.” He stood and grabbed his plate. “I can help with the dishes tonight.”
“No, you go on to bed. I got this, sweet pea.” Hyunjin took her son's plate and stacked it onto his father’s. “If you want to get Chan in bed, that would be great.”
"Goodnight, eomma."
"Night night, eomma!" Chan exclaimed as Changbin scooped him into his arms.
Hyunjin kissed both of her sons on the head and watched them trek up the stairs. She reached up to wipe at her eyes. There was nothing there, but she could never be too sure nowadays. She was sensitive and prone to shed a tear.
She did the dishes and set them in the drying rack. She crept into the darkened living room and grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch, wrapped it around her shoulders, and slipped out the back door. Outside on the porch, it was cool and quiet, the night sky a black canvas speckled in small, glimmering white dots.
A wind swept past and Hyunjin drew the blanket tighter around her. She sat down on the steps leading down into the grass, tucking her knees into her chest and securing the blanket around them. She let the cool breeze settle and breathed it in.
Memories started trickling past like a river, each one recalling a time where she didn’t feel like she wasn’t doing enough. Like she was good at her job.
Their first date on the Han river. Hearing Lana Del Ray on the restaurant speakers, making the moment soft and precious. Hyunjin had forgotten all about it until Jisung played it at their wedding. It had made her cry and smudged her makeup a little, but it was a happy moment nonetheless.
The day they found out Hyunjin was expecting, after three years of trying. She had been told her chances of ever having children were slim to none, and it was by a miracle that it happened. She couldn’t remember who had been more shocked; both of them had been just as delighted. It only doubled a few years later when their second child was born.
Painting had once been an activity Hyunjin loved. She would occupy herself for hours, mixing the paints just right and finding the perfect inspiration. Oftentimes, Jisung would come in and wrap his arms around her stomach. When she was pregnant, he would be extra cautious, as if protecting some priceless treasure.
“I’m not fragile,” Hyunjin scolded him when he flinched after bumping into her. She ran a hand over her bump and poked at her husband. “I won’t break if you touch me.”
“I just want to be careful,” Jisung whined. “You know how clumsy I am.”
He had pouted and complained about her doing things, like household chores, the closer she got to her time. But she would be firm with him and reassure him that she was fine. She could do this. If her mother could, then so would she.
She didn’t feel so strong now. She felt weak. Helpless. Exposed. She wanted to curl into a ball and disappear. She wanted to run away and never look back.
She wanted everything to go back to what it was before.
Wiping the tears that had trailed down her cheeks, Hyunjin rose to her feet. She gave the backyard one final sweep before heading back inside, locking the door behind her.
She moved into the dining room and towards the stairs, when something white caught her eye. Turning on her heel, her eyes landed on a piece of paper laying near the dining room table. She hadn’t noticed it before, not even when she was cleaning. It must have fallen there beforehand.
She bent down to retrieve it and her heart broke in half.
It was one of Chan’s drawings. It was poorly done, but clear enough for her to understand what it was: a family portrait, each member represented by a blue stick figure, with a matching blue house. In the corner, Chan had wrote My Family, and above each head, their names: Appa, Eomma, Binnie, Me.
Hyunjin smiled and touched her fingers to her lips. A fresh tear rolled down her cheek.
She made sure to pin the drawing to the fridge door before heading upstairs, towards a bedroom that was as cold as her bedsheets. To a husband she wasn’t sure loved her or not.
To a life she couldn't recognize as her own.