Work Text:
“I’ll be back late so don’t wait for me! Have a good day!”
Jeongyeon lets out a small grunt of acknowledgement as the door slams shut behind Nayeon. The strained smile on her face disappears as soon as the apartment’s quiet again. The fridge kicks on, its low drone the only sound filling the silence that she’s grown accustomed to. Jeongyeon sits in this lonely quiet for a few minutes, coffee cold and forgotten as she stands up to get ready for work.
The rhythm of the morning has shifted so much in the past year but she’s not sure when the shift began. The soft fibers of her sweater wrap around her body like a tight hug she’s not sure she’ll ever get used to again. Passing the full-length mirror hanging on the inside of the right closet door, she tugs her pants on. Left leg and then the right before the cold metal of her watch band snaps around her wrist. She takes a deep breath before stepping back in front of the mirror. The mirror, Jeongyeon’s come to feel in the past few months, is an item of necessity rather than something she’d choose to use. One glance up and down is all she needs before she shuts the door.
Jeongyeon’s mornings used to be filled with soft kisses and blueberry pancakes. They used to feel as warm as the summer sun and sound like crisp leaves underfoot. Now, they’re filled with cold cups of half drank coffee and slightly burnt toast left in the toaster. They feel like a blizzard and sound like a congested highway full of impatient drivers. They both wake up early enough to eat a full meal and take things slow, but Nayeon never does. She spends her time in the mornings worrying over schedules and deadlines that always seem to be looming. Jeongyeon still attempts to make a small breakfast for her wife even though she knows most of it will go ignored.
“All I need is a cup of coffee, a kiss from you, and I’ll be good for the day.”
Those words used to stick in Jeongyeon’s chest so sweetly but now they land like a rock at the pit of her stomach.
//
“Good morning. Welcome to Yoo’s Bakes.”
The bakery is Jeongyeon’s happy place. The noise from the ovens and the people flowing in and out throughout the day drowns out the endless tormenting thoughts in her head. She can get stuck in the dough and focus on the smell of flour and yeast instead of the silence that’s inevitably waiting for her back home.
“One small sourdough loaf and a baguette. Will that be all for you today?” Jihyo’s voice carries across the bakery, loud and confident but welcoming nonetheless. The customer shakes her head and taps her card before moving to the end of the counter to receive her order. “Jeong, did you-”
“Yep. Small sourdough and baguette.” Jeongyeon calls from the back and appears with a tray of freshly baked bread. Jihyo snaps the tongs together and plucks the right breads before sliding them into two bags.
“Thank you so much. Have a great day.” Jeongyeon’s smile wavers a bit as the customer turns to leave but she quickly fixes it, feeling Jihyo’s stare.
“Slow day.” Jihyo comments and it falls flat. The bakery only opened an hour ago and they both know that prime business hours aren’t until lunch and closer to closing time. She slides behind Jeongyeon to put the rest of the bread on the tray into the glass display. Once the display door is shut, she turns to Jeongyeon again.
Jeongyeon avoids looking at Jihyo and goes into the back. She puts the empty tray into the sink and hoses it down briefly before fitting it into the dishwasher. When she comes back out, Jihyo’s filling up one of the carafes with fresh coffee. A few tendrils of steam curl into the air before she twists the lid on, trapping the rest inside to keep it hot.
“Did you and Nayeon do anything this weekend?”
Jeongyeon knows that this is Jihyo’s way of asking, how are things with your wife, without actually saying the words. Jihyo’s known Nayeon since they were kids and Jeongyeon since their senior year of high school. She thought that their friendships would suffer because Jeongyeon and Nayeon started dating when they went off to university, but it was the opposite. Jihyo somehow became the maid of honor for both of them and the rest is history.
“We watched a movie Saturday that she’s been wanting to see, but that’s about it. We didn’t have much time this weekend.” Jeongyeon’s answer is too formal for Jihyo’s liking, but she knows that the more she pushes her friend, the more defensive she’ll become.
Jihyo noticed the shift in Jeongyeon and Nayeon’s relationship long before Jeongyeon started to notice anything was off. They were sharing an Uber home from a Christmas party at Nayeon’s job and Jihyo could feel the anxiety burning off of Jeongyeon. Jeongyeon was listening to Nayeon’s drunken ramblings but she wasn’t paying attention. She didn’t have her usual head over heels look whenever Nayeon rambled on about something she could both care less about. Jihyo could tell when they were at the party as well. Instead of dragging Jeongyeon around to talk to her coworkers, Nayeon flew solo. Jeongyeon leaned against one of the cubicles and held onto her drink until her knuckles turned white for a majority of the night.
Jeongyeon can practically see the wheels turning in Jihyo’s head as she stares into the bread display, carefully formulating a question that Jeongyeon will do anything not to answer. “Did you and Sana go camping? I know you said that you’d been looking forward to it last week.
Jihyo’s head snaps up and she nods, her question tucked away for another quiet moment in between rushed orders. “Yeah,” she mumbles as she grabs a straw for a customer who walks up to the checkout counter. “The weather was almost perfect and Sana managed to get the fire started by herself once.”
Jihyo’s smile at the memory of her wife clumsily building a fire in the pit fills Jeongyeon with dread and anxiety. She looks forward to hearing about her friend’s weekend activities, but all she can think about is all the times she used to go camping with Nayeon. The first time was like dragging a cat to the vet, but every time after that was almost picturesque. Big fires, delicious food, and starry nights feel like distant memories. Jeongyeon balls up a gloved fist at her side as she sets the tongs down on the top of the display. A sudden wave of nausea hits her and she can feel her heart trying to break out from behind her ribs. “I’m going to take a break. I’ll be right back.”
//
“Jeongie! Kookeu! I’m home early.” Nayeon slides her heels off and pushes them beside Jeongyeon’s sneakers before stepping into the apartment. Kookeu greets her with a few happy barks and jumps up to be held. She bends down and picks him up, her long fingers brushing through his fluff. “Where’s mama?” Kookeu barks again and whines softly, his little tail wagging slowly. Nayeon sets Kookeu down and checks the clock on the microwave, her eyebrows knitting together. “Hmm. She should be home by now.”
It’s rare for a baking emergency to ever occur, but they do happen every now and then. Nayeon still remembers when Jeongyeon came home covered head to toe in flour and sugar because one of the large mixers at the bakery decided to go haywire and throw a huge bowl of barely mixed dough at her.
Nayeon checks the usual spots Jeongyeon likes to linger. “Jeong?” She pokes her head into their shared home office; the lights are off but the monitor screensavers cast a pink and blue glow across the empty desk chair. “Are you in here?” The small laundry room’s dark as well. A stack of Jeongyeon’s shirts rest on top of the dryer and a stray Kookeu shirt is draped over the washer door. Nayeon closes the door to the laundry room and pulls her phone out of her back pocket. She walks into the kitchen and flicks the lights on without looking up, her free hand typing out a message as she pulls the fridge door open with the other.
Nabong [18:30] are you going to come home covered in flour again?
Nabong [19:41] i made dinner whenever you’re done with work.
Nabong [19:50] okay i didn’t actually make dinner, but i got chicken from that place you love.
The smell of grease and fried chicken hangs in the air as Nayeon stares down at her phone. She took a shower, caught up with residual work emails she wasn’t able to get to at work, and even ordered food. She turns her phone on again only to be greeted by no notifications and her lockscreen of Jeongyeon wearing a Hanshin Tigers hat that she bought when they honeymooned in Japan.
After turning her phone on and off again for the eighth time in five minutes, Nayeon puts the leftover chicken in the fridge and finds Jihyo’s contact. She leans against the kitchen island, her slippered foot tapping against one of the cabinets.
“What’s up?”
“Hey, Ji. Are you still at the bakery?”
Jihyo pauses the drama she’s watching and lets Bbuyo jump down from her lap. “No. I closed up around five.” As soon as Jihyo finishes her response, she presses her palm against her forehead. “Shit,” she mouths.
“Jeongie always closes. Why were you closing today?”
There’s a long pause before Jihyo lets out a soft sigh. She takes her bowl and chopsticks to the sink and rinses them out before leaning back against the counter. “I closed today because Jeongyeon… wasn’t at work today.” Jihyo’s face scrunches up, her eyes closed as she prepares for the verbal wrath of Nayeon.
“What?” Nayeon asks in clear disbelief. “Where has she been all day, then? She didn’t tell me she wasn’t going to work today.”
“Nay-”
“Ji. What aren’t you telling me?”
Jihyo’s head drops as she picks at the edge of the countertop. She watches as Bbuyo lumbers in and lies at her feet, rolling onto his back for a belly rub. “She- she went somewhere.”
“Where?” The stern tone of Nayeon’s voice is something that Jihyo’s only heard a few times in her life. The first was during a group project in middle school. One of their groupmates wouldn’t stop goofing off and both he and Jihyo were scared stiff when Nayeon yelled at him.
“She made me promise not to tell you. I promise she’s safe, though.”
“Jihyo, she’s my wife. What could possibly be going on that’s so bad that you can’t tell me where she was today and where she is right now?”
“It’s not that something bad is going on, Nayeon.” Jihyo’s tone shifts, clear concern and firm protectiveness in it.
“Ji,” Nayeon says, softer this time. “Please tell me where she is.”
“She… she went camping. She’s just gone for a long weekend. She left today and she said she’ll be back Sunday afternoon.”
Nayeon’s silent. The fact that Jeongyeon decided to go camping without her isn’t an issue in itself. The issue is that Jeongyeon decided to not go to work, go camping, and not tell her about any of it. Nayeon clenches and unclenches her jaw as she tries to even out her breathing. “Why the hell didn’t she tell me?”
“It’s not because of you-”
“I don’t care if it’s because of me or not. Jeongyeon’s my wife. What if something happened to her and I didn’t know where she was? Does she think I’m just going to move on and go about my life like we haven’t been married to each other for the past six years?” The rational part of Nayeon’s brain is quickly taken over by anger and anxiety that’s been threatening to spill over since she sent that first text to Jeongyeon.
“She didn’t not tell you because she doesn’t care about you or what you think. She’s just going through a lot right now.”
Nayeon lets out a loud groan and runs a hand through her hair. “Well, why the hell can’t she just tell me? She didn’t have to disappear into the woods! If she wants to just disappear instead of talking to me, then why the hell are we married?! Why-”
“Nayeon!” Jihyo’s voice cuts through her friend’s anger and anxiety-induced rambling. She knows that Nayeon’s upset and concerned about Jeongyeon, but she can also tell that Nayeon’s oblivious to what Jeongyeon’s been dealing with. “Have you seriously not noticed the way Jeongyeon’s been acting lately?”
Nayeon quirks an eyebrow and lets out an exasperated breath. Yes, she hasn’t been around the house as much within the last year due to work, but she’s still around Jeongyeon quite a bit. “What do you mean? We talk at breakfast and I know I don’t see her much during the week, but we always spend the weekend together.”
Jihyo sighs softly and shakes her head. She kneels down in her kitchen and runs her fingers through the soft fur on Bbuyo’s belly before he gets up to find his spot on the couch. She rests against the drawers beside the fridge, her chin propped up on her knee. “I noticed it a while ago, but we both know how Jeong is. If I pressed her any more than I have, she’d close up completely.”
Jihyo’s concern for Jeongyeon takes all the fight out of Nayeon. Her shoulders droop and her face falls as she walks into the living room. She sits on the edge of the couch, one hand covering her eyes. Kookeu plops down beside her, his face tucked between his paws as he watches. “Is it as bad as last time?”
Jihyo thinks before she speaks again. “She just can’t do this alone again, Nayeon.”
“What do I do?”
“You know her better than anyone. You’ll figure it out, but please don’t be mad at her. She’s just trying to protect herself the only way she knows how.”
“Okay, Ji. Thank you.” Nayeon ends the call and sets her phone on the couch. She hangs her head between her hands and closes her eyes. A few minutes pass and she’s slowly walking around their apartment. The silence is nearly suffocating without the presence of Jeongyeon. Nayeon looks into their bedroom and sighs. She leans against the doorway and stares at the side where Jeongyeon usually sleeps.
“Are you okay? You look tired.”
“Yeah. I just… didn’t get a lot of sleep.”
Their morning interactions flash through Nayeon’s mind as she focuses on Jeongyeon’s pillow. The minutes tick by and Nayeon can see things a little clearer. Jeongyeon’s slightly strained smile.
“Oh, no. Jihyo just sent me this ugly ass picture I took in elementary school.”
Jeongyeon forced a small laugh as she glanced down at Nayeon’s phone.
Her shaky hands and unsure steps whenever they’re actually around each other.
Jeongyeon looked down at her hands and clasped them together, doing her best to control the slight tremble in them.
Nayeon caught it out of the corner of her eye but chalked it up to nerves about bakery sales.
The way she only checks the mirror in their room for a few seconds before they leave to go out.
“Do you think this looks okay?” Jeongyeon tugged at the hem of her shirt, her eyes burning holes into the thin fabric as she looked down at herself.
Everything stacks up and the thought of Jeongyeon fighting all her thoughts alone makes Nayeon's stomach hurt. She covers a soft sob that escapes and closes her eyes. Hot, wet tears drip down the back of her hand as she stands in the doorway.
//
The campfire throws long shadows of Jeongyeon's hunched figure into the trees. She stokes it with the already charred end of a long stick someone before her had used for a fire. She thought it would be busy this weekend but she only passed one other occupied campsite as she drove in to find her own. The man waved as she slowly drove in, his tent already set up and a few fat pieces of pork slowly cooking over the coals of his fire.
Jeongyeon's first few hours were occupied with setting things up, but they were nice. They kept her busy until the sun set and she was left after dinner to sit and stare into the glowing orange and yellow flames. They dance across her face like the thoughts that circulate in her head. She wraps her blanket tighter around her shoulders when a swift breeze moves across her campsite. The fire wavers momentarily but quickly settles. A few sparks fly out and land in the gravel in front of the fire pit. Jeongyeon watches as the light slowly dies out and can't help but feel like one of the sparks.
Her thoughts are full of Nayeon and the way things have been so stagnant the past year. She tries to come up with some kind of solution or even a temporary band-aid to put on their marriage before it's too late. Jeongyeon's breath carries up and tangles with the smoke as she tilts her head back. The stars above her twinkle through the trees that surround her site. It had been cloudy an hour ago, but cleared up as soon as Jeongyeon put her s'mores supplies away. She stares up at the stars for a few minutes longer before the campfire's glow transfixes her again.
Part of Jeongyeon thinks that Nayeon would be better off without her. Part of her thinks that Nayeon would be able to focus on her career instead of worrying about how her wife feels all the time. Part of her thinks that Nayeon could absolutely find someone better; find someone more caring and someone far prettier. But, part of Jeongyeon thinks that it wouldn't really matter. Even in the rare in-between moments when Jeongyeon isn't able to hide her feelings, Nayeon doesn't seem to notice. Maybe in passing Nayeon will ask if Jeongyeon's okay, but it doesn't feel like genuine concern anymore. It feels more like a check-box question. It feels like something that her old soccer coach would ask her before pushing her back onto the field to finish the game.
Jeongyeon sits up and leans back into her camp chair, the vinyl material swishing beneath her as she tucks her legs beneath her. She looks around and notices that her campsite is the only one that's still lit up. She glances at her phone that she tossed in one of the supply bags she packed but resists the urge to check the time. There's no cell coverage this deep into the woods, but she knows that her mind might trick her into packing everything up in a rush to make sure that Nayeon's not looking for her. It's hard for Jeongyeon to be selfish like this and take the time to focus on what she wants and needs, but the fire and the woods, and the lingering smell of toasted marshmallow tells her that this is what has to do.
//
Nayeon spent the first hour and a half in a foul mood after speaking with Jihyo. She finished off her half of the fried chicken and saved Jeongyeon's half, more out of compulsion than genuine care. Kookeu stayed curled up in his bed, knowing better than to try and ask for attention from Nayeon when she was in a mood. After her frustrated pacing, Nayeon eventually calmed herself down enough to sit and stare at the blank screen of the TV. The couch bows and creaks as she shifts, reminding her that it's probably time for them to get another since this one had seen its best days nearly a decade ago.
The silence in the living room is something that Nayeon isn't used to. She starts her day eating, well not really eating, breakfast with Jeongyeon and ends her day getting ready for bed. Even then, she's got the water running or soft music going before she slips in beside her wife. This silence is unnerving. It forces her to really think about things- something she hasn't taken the time to do in months. She's forced to replay the horrible memories of Jeongyeon isolating herself. Forced to feel the fear that nearly killed her when she thought she'd lose her, at the time, girlfriend and best friend. She had never seen Jeongyeon so sad and pained in her life. It felt like nothing she had done at the time could pull Jeongyeon out of the darkness in her head.
Kookeu joins Nayeon on the couch when she closes her eyes. She feels his wet nose press against her hand and cracks a slight grin, her hand wrapping around his fluffy body. She runs her fingers through his white fur and lets out a heavy sigh, releasing hours of pent up stress and worry. When Nayeon opens her eyes again, she's looking down at Kookeu. The longer she stares at him and his big, dark brown eyes, the tighter the feeling of guilt wraps around her heart. It squeezes like a vice and she doesn't even notice the tears dripping down her cheeks until a few land on the suede cover of the couch. Jihyo's words sink into her heart, slow and painful, and all too eye-opening.
Nayeon finally sees the sadness that slowly started to show in Jeongyeon's eyes. She sees the way her smile gradually tightened over time and became an almost pained expression. She sees Jeongyeon sitting their kitchen once Nayeon's left for work, alone and too quiet. She sees the way the mirror has become an object of hatred each time Jeongyeon passes it. She sees her wife slipping back into the darkness that almost took her away when they were in college. All of the emotions and feats that have consumed Jeongyeon suddenly weighs on her like an impossibly heavy cloak. Jeongyeon's there in the darkness, small and alone while Nayeon towers over her, unaware and cold to her wife's feelings.
//
Nayeon's heart jumps into her throat when she hears the apartment door's keypad beeping. As Jeongyeon pushes down on the handle, the lock clicks and the handle of the door gently thuds against the wall inside their unit. Nayeon holds her breath as she listens to Jeongyeon shuffling around the living room. The heavy thump of Jeongyeon's camping duffel landing beside the couch. The clatter of the tent poles and stakes inside of their bag as Jeongyeon tosses it on the couch. Nayeon takes a quiet breath in once the noise in the living room stops. She can see Jeongyeon staring down at the coffee table as she stands behind the couch, her eyes narrowing as she reads her name on a neat white envelope. Jeongyeon walks from behind the couch and sits down on the couch. It sighs as she leans forward and grabs the envelope. Jeongyeon flips the card over and slides her thumb beneath the flap where it's sealed. It tears, crisp and clean as she runs her thumb through it.
The front of the card would be simple and normal to anyone else receiving it, but Jeongyeon knows the image as the first place she took Nayeon on a date. She remembers the date like it was yesterday. Nayeon's hair stuck to her forehead from sweat and her cheeks were bright red. Despite the annoyance the clear annoyance on Nayeon's face from being forced to climb way too many steps to get to their destination, Jeongyeon didn't think she could get any more beautiful.
Jeongyeon wipes the sweat from her palms on the sides of her pant legs and flips the card open.
"It's been a while, hasn't it..."
Jeongyeon only manages to read the first few lines of Nayeon's card before her vision is completely clouded by tears. She takes in a shaky breath and covers her mouth, her chest heaving with each sob. She sets the card down on her lap and wipes her eyes with the back of her free hand before barely making it through the rest of the card. Every fear and insecurity she's fought for years is laid out in ink, permanent and oh so real. But Jeongyeon's heart feels just a little lighter. She feels some small sense of relief that there's a possibility that Nayeon hasn't given up on her yet.
Nayeon waits until Jeongyeon's sobs die down to a few strong sniffles before she slowly walks out of their bedroom and into the hallway. As soon as Jeongyeon sees her wife, though, she's sobbing again. Nayeon feels the crushing weight of everything that Jeongyeon's been pushing back suddenly come crashing down. She moves across and into the living room, not bothering to sit as she wraps her arms around Jeongyeon. Nayeon knows that things won't be magically fixed, but she's sure that Jeongyeon can see the light in the darkness. She can see the hand that's always waiting to slowly pull her into the light.