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It was a Friday night in Seoul. The city buzzed with life—some people rushing home after a long day of work, others just beginning their night in bars and restaurants. Nayeon, however, was somewhere in between. She had just returned from a three-month vacation in New York. The drive home was quiet and long. The traffic in Seoul had never gotten any better, she thought.
When she finally stood at the doorway of her apartment, her eyes roamed around. She wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or unsettled. Sure, she was back in her motherland and her luxurious apartment, but it didn’t feel like home. Not really. Before her mind wandered to thoughts she’d been avoiding, she shook them off and stepped inside, placing her luggage beside the sofa before heading to the bathroom.
After a quick shower, she slipped into comfortable clothes and lay in bed, hoping sleep would overtake her. But it didn’t. No matter how many times she turned or adjusted her pillows, her mind refused to quiet down. After an hour of tossing and turning, Nayeon found herself on the balcony, wrapped in a blanket, staring out at the city skyline.
What’s one good way to fall asleep? A glass—maybe a bottle—of whiskey, if you’re feeling it, she thought. She poured herself a generous glass of whiskey and let the cold night breeze envelop her as she sipped slowly, her gaze lost in the glowing city lights below. She watched people cross the street, small figures bustling under neon signs.
Nayeon thought that after her fifth drink, she’d be soundly asleep. Yet, even with the warm burn of alcohol in her throat, her thoughts drifted to the one person she’d been avoiding for three months.
It was funny, really. During her time in New York, she had managed to keep her mind busy. She hadn’t allowed herself to think of Sana. But now, as soon as she stepped out of the airport, thoughts of her lingered in the back of her mind. She immediately brushed them off, unwilling to consciously dwell on her. She shouldn’t be thinking of Sana because she’d already moved on—or so she thought.
Nayeon fought the urge to grab her phone, but the liquor fogging her mind got the best of her. She began to scroll through her private gallery, where she had kept all the pictures of her and her ex-girlfriend, Sana. She cursed herself as her eyes began to sting. Tears welled up, threatening to fall. Nayeon regretted not deleting all the photos when they broke up. Instead, she’d stored them in a private gallery, protected by a password—their anniversary date. What a stupid idea, she thought.
She scrolled through the thousands of photos, each holding a special memory that came crashing down like a tidal wave. The memories were fresh, as if they had just happened yesterday. Nayeon didn’t realize that her tears had started streaming down her face like waterfalls. But that didn’t stop Nayeon browsing through the gallery.
Before she knew it, she was already typing a message to Sana. A message she’d been trying to suppress for months. She stared at it for ten minutes, hesitating to send it. She shouldn't, right? Nayeon shouldn’t miss Sana. She shouldn’t long for her touch, shouldn’t yearn for her love. After all, it was her who had initiated the breakup.
Yet, a part of her pondered: Maybe Sana is thinking of me too.
Before she could act on impulse, her phone rang. She thanked the heavens for the interruption. The caller ID read “Jijihyo” —her best friend, Jihyo. Nayeon wiped her tears and cleared her throat before answering the call. Jihyo wanted to check if she had returned to Seoul—word had gotten out through mutual friends. They chatted for a while. After the call ended, exhaustion finally overcame her, and finally, she drifted to sleep.
For the following weeks, Nayeon almost always texted or called Sana every time she had trouble sleeping—which was every night when the world was quiet. And every night, she cried herself to sleep, wondering if Sana felt the way she did.
The same ache that, no matter how hard she tried, wouldn’t heal. The longing that she tried to bury deep but still surfaced. And most of all, the frustration after fighting the urge to reach out, because God knows it took everything in her not to.
Today wasn’t any special day, but Nayeon was meeting up with her best friends, Jihyo and Jeongyeon. This was the first time she’d see them since returning from New York, as their schedules rarely aligned. They planned to meet at a downtown coffee shop before heading to lunch.
Nayeon arrived first, dusting off her wet coat. She had forgotten her umbrella, so she’d made a quick dash from the parking lot to the entrance. The cafe was cozy, its minimal interior design radiating warmth.
She scanned the room for a seat and spotted a small table by the window. Placing her bag on the chair to claim the spot, she went to order her go-to drink: an iced Americano.
Returning to her seat, she looked outside at the rain pouring down in sheets. Her phone buzzed with a message from Jihyo, saying they’d be late due to traffic.
As she typed her reply, someone tapped her shoulder.
“Excuse me, are you with someone?” a woman asked.
Nayeon froze. She knew that voice—light, sweet, and melodic. Turning around, her heart skipped a beat when her eyes met the owner of that voice.
It was Sana, mirroring the shock on Nayeon’s.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I should go,” Sana said quickly, already stepping back.
Nayeon’s hand shot out, gently grabbing Sana’s. Electricity coursed through her at the contact. She slowly let go, already missing the warmth of their touch.
“It’s okay. I’m not with anyone yet. You can sit here if you’d like,” Nayeon said softly.
Sana hesitated, glancing around the crowded cafe. “Are you sure? I mean, I could look for another table…”I
"It’s fine, Sana-chan. It’s not like we’ve never shared a table before,” Nayeon replied, her smile widening slightly.
Nayeon’s heart pounded as she took in the sight of her. Sana looked the same, yet different. Her hair was longer, cascading in soft waves over her shoulders. Her smile was faint, but her eyes... her eyes held a sadness that mirrored Nayeon’s own.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them was thick with unspoken words. Finally, Sana broke the silence.
"So... how have you been?” she asked, her voice tentative.
“I’m okay,” Nayeon replied, though the lump in her throat betrayed her. “You?”
Sana smiled faintly. “I’m... figuring things out. I quit my job recently. I’m trying to find something I’m passionate about.”
Nayeon was shocked but also proud of her. She remembered all the times Sana had complained about working so hard only to be undervalued, with her promotion constantly delayed.
“That’s brave. I’m proud of you,” Nayeon said sincerely. “I’m sure it won’t take long for you to find what you’re looking for.”
Sana’s smile grew more genuine, lighting up her face. “Thank you.”
Then, after a brief pause, Sana asked, “Are you supposed to be with someone? I mean, they might get mad if they saw you with your ex.”
She sipped on her iced Americano, avoiding Nayeon’s gaze.
Nayeon chuckled. “Oh, it’s not like that. I’m not seeing anyone. I was supposed to meet Jihyo and Jeongyeon. But they got stuck in traffic, so they’ll be late.”
Sana’s eyes widened, and she nodded, feeling embarrassed.
“Oh, I see. Sorry,” she muttered, returning her focus to her carrot cake.
They ate in silence for a while, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Nayeon toyed with her fork, wondering if she should say what had been on her mind since seeing Sana again. Her heart ached with unsaid words, but she pushed them down. She didn’t want to ruin the lighthearted conversation they’d been having. For now, she wanted to enjoy this—just talking, laughing, and reminiscing.
Hours passed without them noticing. The rain had stopped long ago, yet neither of them seemed eager to leave. They might have kept talking if Jihyo hadn’t called, apologizing for running late suggesting they meet at the restaurant instead.
“It’s nice to see and talk to you again, Sana-chan,” Nayeon said as she stood up to leave.
Before Nayeon could step away, Sana surprised her with a quick, warm hug. Nayeon stiffened at first but then relaxed into it, savoring the moment.
“Thank you, Nayeonnie,” Sana said softly as she pulled away. “This… this was really nice.”
Nayeon nodded, her throat tight. She turned to leave but glanced back one last time. Sana’s smile lingered in her mind, bittersweet and beautiful. Nayeon couldn’t help but smile back, her expression tinged with longing.
That night, as Nayeon lay in bed, she felt an unusual lightness. Who wouldn’t be happy? She’d reconnected with her ex-girlfriend—the one she was still in love with—and spent a fun evening with her best friends. She was certain she’d sleep soundly for the first time in months.
While applying her skincare, her phone buzzed. It was a message from the person she least expected to message her.
“Hi, Nayeonnie. It’s Sana, in case you’ve deleted my number. I just want to let you know that your coat is with me, you left it on the chair at the coffee shop. Let me know when you’re free so I can give it back to you personally.”
Before she could respond, another text came through.
“Or is that weird? I’m sorry. Should I just send it to you via delivery?”
Nayeon chuckled softly, shaking her head as she pictured Sana nervously as she sent the message.
“Hello, Sana-chan. I haven’t deleted your number, and I don’t think I ever will. Thank you for keeping it with you, Sana-chan. It’s not weird at all. Let me know when and where you’re free, and I’ll be there.”
After rereading her message several times, she hesitated. Should she send the other text she’d drafted—the one she’d been avoiding for months? Taking a deep breath, she decided to go for it. Screw it. What do I have to lose? she thought.
She hit send and set her phone aside, heart racing.
“I miss you, Sana. I never stopped missing you.”
Five minutes later—Nayeon counted every second—her phone buzzed again. She picked it up slowly, her chest tight with anticipation, her fingers trembling. Her breath hitched as she read Sana’s reply. The reply was simple, yet it carried so much weight. Whatever the words were, they left Nayeon lying awake, her thoughts a mixture of longing and unease.