A/N: I sincerely hope you don't hate me too much after that last chapter lol...But seriously, this is endgame SoEul...just not right now. Thanks so much for your continued reading and reviews!
Crumpled tissues littered the floor of Ga Eul's bedroom, surrounding an empty tissue box that lay in between herself and Jan Di. Her best friend had burst in the front door around noon time and had consoled her mother briefly before heading up to Ga Eul's room to 'knock some sense into her.'
At first Ga Eul had been crying about her brother, after explaining what her father had told her. Then she'd cried about Yi Jeong, then her brother, then Yi Jeong again. By this point in the evening, the tissues only irritated her red and swollen eyes, and she'd given up on speaking coherently. She'd been going around and around in circles all night, but she was no closer to remembering anything that had happened between her and Gong Yoo.
Jan Di, meanwhile, had been plotting her single-handed revenge on the real culprit behind the news story, of which there was no doubt: Yi Jeong's grandfather.
"Ga Eul, what about this? I break into the museum and booby trap his entire office. Then when he's all bound and defenseless, I break out of the closet and spin-kick him right in the—"
"Yah, Jan Di...you're crazy, you know that, right?" Ga Eul sighed and picked at the ratty tissue in her lap.
"Then I'll get Jun Pyo Sunbae to—"
"Jun Pyo Sunbae will never help me, not after what I've done to Yi Jeong. And don't say it, Jan Di. I know he might do it for you, but I've made such a mess of things. I don't want to make it worse by coming between him and Yi Jeong. It's my fault. And I don't even remember it! I can't say why I did it or...that I didn't want to do it...or anything!"
"Ga Eul—"
"I was drunk. I could have...Oh no, Jan Di, I could have done anything! Yi Jeong is really going to kill me for this. I can't even promise him it was just a kiss. I don't know what it was!"
"Yah—"
"I mean...I had a crush on him when we were kids, I suppose, but I would never...I mean, I hadn't seen him in years! Besides, I was just a kid back then. Why would he think of me like that? Why did he have to do...that?!"
"Yah! Ga Eul!" Jan Di shook her arm. "I've known you since we were five years old. There's no way you would have done anything improper with another guy. He must have taken advantage of you. You're really out of it when you're drunk, you know. At least the two or three times in my life I've seen you drunk, you were really loopy. Maybe you were imagining he was Yi Jeong."
"Maybe so." Ga Eul shook her head. "There's just no other explanation."
"Screw what the paper says. No one can prove you were even in a relationship with Yi Jeong when that photo was taken."
"Sure." Ga Eul laughed humorlessly. "No one but Yi Jeong can prove that. And he'll know because he gave me the purse in the photo. And besides that, I told him about that night. He called me the next morning, and I was hungover."
"At least you know you didn't mean it. I was fully aware when I kissed Ji Hoo Sunbae," Jan Di offered mournfully. "I'll never be able to take that moment back."
"But that's just it. He told me himself how angry he got with Ji Hoo after that. Did you know he punched him? And when Gu Jun Pyo treated you so horribly in Macau, he punched him too. He'll be absolutely furious about this. I just know it."
"But Yi Jeong has to see the difference in those situations. It's not like he's going to punch you."
"But Jan Di-ah, it's not just me. His family's never going to accept me like this. First Su Pyo and now Gong Yoo. I'm only making him look bad...and all this after he made that big speech about me." Ga Eul wrung her hands.
"Ga Eul, you are not responsible for anything either one of those bastards did to you. If Yi Jeong can't see that then he doesn't deserve you, and he deserves more than a good kick to the head...Speaking of kicks in the head, you want me to beat up Su Pyo again?"
Ga Eul cracked a smile.
"Aniyo. Please Jan Di, don't do anything yet. I don't want to cause more of a scene with all of this."
"Aish, but why hasn't Yi Jeong called you back yet?"
"He's probably still processing it. Maybe it's better we talk after he calms down, but...I do wish he would answer my texts anyway. Only Jan Di-ah...I'm so scared."
"Yah, come here." Jan Di wrapped an arm around Ga Eul and pulled her close.
"He's going to hate me."
"He's not going to hate you."
"I already lost my brother," she mumbled as she leaned her head on Jan Di's shoulder. "I don't want to lose him too."
Following the staccato clack of So Ri's frantic footsteps down to the kiln, Hyun Sub realized how long it had been since he'd chased after a woman. His paramours always came to him, and he'd select this one to spend the evening with or that one to be his mistress for a week or two or three. Yet his heart had made its choice long ago, a choice that found him down in the bottom floor of the museum, beneath even the kitchen and maintenance quarters.
He knew it well.
Though he rarely ventured down to the basement floor where the kiln resided anymore, he and So Ri used to hide out in its warm, dark depths. His eyes steadily adjusting to the dim light, he surveyed the gloomy expanse until he made out So Ri's tiny figure huddled against the wall. Sniffling, her face hidden in her skirt, she didn't look up when he approached her, and, as people do sometimes when there is too much to say, he said nothing for a long time but sat down beside her on the grimy concrete and rested his head against the hard brick wall.
So Ri didn't know why she'd come down there. She'd run without direction or any real intent of going anywhere, just to get away. But maybe that had been her entire life for almost thirty years. Maybe she had run into one wrong decision after another.
Tucking her arms around herself, she stared at the outline of her skirt in the near-darkness. The sharp edges of the diamond ring on her left hand jutted out, weighing on her bony fingers. She could feel Hyun Sub's gaze weighing on her too, assessing her, and she wished she had long hair to hide behind. At first she had been furious with him for leaving her, but over time she'd realized she'd only been fooling herself about him. He had always been a coward, and she had known it. So who was she really supposed to blame? Him for being who he was? Or herself for blindly believing she could change him?
Perhaps regret had forced him to be bolder, but it was far too little far too late.
"So Ri," Hyun Sub whispered, "here."
He held out a handkerchief to her. Its silkiness brushed over her fingers, and she took it between her thumb and forefinger and simply held it.
"I'm going to get mascara on it," she finally said.
"What?"
"You used to tell me that I ruined all your handkerchiefs because I'd get makeup on them."
"Does it matter? I can just—"
"Buy more," she finished for him.
She flipped the handkerchief over, unfolding it and folding it back again, noting his initials embroidered into the corner.
"Could you?" she continued. "Did you get enough? Did it make you happy? Are you...satisfied?"
"No," Hyun Sub answered, shifting closer to her. "And I didn't mean—"
"Doesn't matter, now, does it?" So Ri laughed, her hollow voice bouncing off the unfinished walls. "Don't you see? We're in a chess game where everyone loses." More laughter spilled out of her, along with the last few tears she'd been holding back.
"I don't see what's so funny," Hyun Sub chided.
"Of course you can't. You're miserable, but you're safe. You've always been safe. But I...no matter how hard I try, I always end up at the bottom. And when you've cried as much as I have, you get to a point where all you can do is laugh. But it's okay." So Ri nodded and wiped her tear-streaked face with her arm. "I'm going to find my way out of this. I always have before."
"Let me help you. I didn't know about the baby. I swear I didn't know. I would have done something. I would have protected you. Why didn't you tell me?"
"For what? So your father could accuse me of blackmailing you. So I could be your mistress? It's not like you would have given up everything to marry me. And don't lie now and tell me you would have because we both know you're full of shit. So where would that have left us?" So Ri balled the handkerchief in her fists. "It was better for you not to know. I certainly didn't want your father knowing. But, you know, I was fortunate, or at least I thought I was at the time, marrying Seong Jae. I thought about having an abortion, but then...I couldn't bring myself to do it."
"How is he?"
"Hmm?"
"My son...Is he...doing well?"
"Well, I...I believe I might have spoiled him too much when he was younger. I wish he would get serious about his studies." So Ri sniffed and wistfully smiled. "But he was the cutest little boy. He...inherited your mischievousness, I think."
"I'd like to meet him...though...perhaps that is too much to ask."
"Perhaps," So Ri replied, though she had often wondered if she would ever tell her son the truth. Now it seemed she would be forced to, if only so he didn't hear it from another source.
"Is he...an artist?"
It took a moment for So Ri to snap out of her own thoughts, but when she did, she snorted, remembering the proper mess her son had made of his short-lived tutor's art studio during a particularly emotional tantrum.
"Goodness, no. Oh, I signed him up for all sorts of classes. Painting. Pottery. Sculpting. He hated all of it. He loves racing though. And that motorcycle of his. I don't think there's a shy bone in his body. Life of the party, that one, and he's hopelessly impulsive, but you can never stay mad at him because he makes you laugh so much." So Ri shook her head and sighed. "But I don't know what's going to happen now."
"What do you mean?"
"He was training to manage parts of the hotel chain, but that may cease to exist." Her nails nipped at the back of her neck as she threaded her fingers through her hair. "I've failed both of my children."
"I can still help you."
"How?" So Ri scoffed. "Were you even listening up there?"
"I can take a paternity test. I can threaten to come out with it if he doesn't leave you alone. I don't give a damn about your husband, but I can keep him from pressing charges against both of you. I know you didn't have anything to do with it. I can give you money too, as much as you need."
"Well, that's awfully noble of you," So Ri deadpanned. "You siphon me money for the next few decades so I can be a kept woman? Thanks, but...I don't want your help."
"Then at least let me help your—our—son. And your daughter, too, though I can't say I liked her."
"Do you know you are the most honest asshole I have ever known?"
"Is that a yes?"
So Ri pushed herself up with her fists, still clutching his handkerchief, and stood abruptly.
"It's a maybe. No money. But...whatever you can say to your father...I'd be grateful."
Hyun Sub stood also and faced her. Letting his searching gaze sweep over her, she allowed herself to memorize the lines now drawn on the corners of his eyes and the uncharacteristic stray stubble cropping up on his chin. In the tabloids, he looked so well kept-together, but up close he seemed tired, and today he looked his age.
"I didn't mean it...any of the things I said to you back then...I didn't mean it. I loved you. I've always loved you."
So Ri smiled sadly.
"I know. You always had so much potential."
"Potential for what?"
"To be good."
There was a long pause as the two of them wrestled with the implications of that statement.
"I'm not—"
"So be good." So Ri absently swiped at her watering eyes. "Be good to your children. Be good to your wife. Be the person I fell in love with. That's what you can do for me."
"I—"
"Excuse me." Bowing quickly, So Ri retreated toward the stairs. Metal clanged against metal as she climbed up them and swung open the door to the stairwell, letting it slam, letting it drown out the beginnings of a protest he began to utter once his thoughts had caught up with her actions. Not daring to look back, she climbed until she reached the main floor of the museum and went out through a side exit. In the bustle of tour guides and schoolchildren on field trips, she hailed a taxi, and only when she had sunk down into the leather seat and told the driver her address did she allow her grip on his handkerchief to loosen. Only then did she tuck it carefully away in her purse and wipe her mascara-stained face on her sleeve.
