8.9

Time, quietly pushing away the stubborn season, summoned a new one.

As the temperature of the wind changed, yellow dogwood and milky magnolia bloomed at the same time. As the sunlight lingered longer, the browned magnolia petals tumbled in the wind, and the cherry blossoms, waiting their turn, popped open white buds on every branch, like popcorn bursting.

Rows of street trees lined both sides, branches hung with flowers reaching toward the road. As a white SUV sped by, the petals rolling on the road danced in its wake.

Junmo, at the wheel, glanced at the time.

7:21 AM.

He was on his way to see Leeseo.

Junmo never believed in happiness. Especially the superficial image of a harmonious family often seen in family dramas. He never thought marriage guaranteed happiness. It was a harsh lesson learned from experience since childhood.

When alone, his father was the most caring man in the world—but that was all. There were no loud arguments, but the dinner table never saw warm family conversations or laughter.

Whenever his father, home early, tried to ask about school, his mother would always find something to criticize, and the atmosphere would freeze instantly. When things turned sour at the table, Junmo would put down his spoon and retreat to his room; that was routine.

Was it because he had no expectations? Or was it a simple wish to just enjoy being together?

It was different with Leeseo. When sitting across the table, conversation never ceased. The topics were cheerful and varied. Even her occasional complaints didn’t feel heavy.

‘…It’s hard. It always has been, but handling people is the hardest part. The dim lights, the music… No matter how many times I say those props aren’t necessary, he insists I’m wrong and he’s right.’

Listening to Leeseo’s words, which spread warmth, a smile naturally lingered on his lips.

‘I told him straight—good paintings don’t need Schubert.’

Leeseo was never sharp in word or deed. If she showed even a hint of fatigue, she’d chatter with a worried face, filling his heart with warmth. When she smiled with that endlessly affectionate, little-sister-like look, his calm heart would stir like waves on a beach.

Did Grandpa and his Aunt know these things too?

Using the wedding as an excuse, they often called Leeseo over. Every time she returned from the main house, she had something in her hand. Sometimes it was jewelry his Aunt cherished, sometimes an expensive heirloom from his Grandma. One day, she came back pale and anxious, unable to focus on anything, so he asked her.

‘Grandpa says he’ll give me all of my Mom’s works he owns. Even when I say he doesn’t have to, he insists. What should I do?’

‘What do you mean, what should you do? Just accept it.’

He explained it was fine, that his Grandpa had more than enough to give.

Junmo checked the side mirror and pressed the accelerator a bit more. Vroom—the engine roared, and the scenery flashed by even faster.

* * *

With the fine dust cleared, flower petals drifted on the breeze. Leeseo opened her palm, catching the fluttering petals.

Where did they come from?

Leeseo looked around. The clear air, blue sky, and a world painted in fresh green dotted with white and pink flowers. Gwisuk told her the pink ones were wild peach, the white ones mountain cherry. The fields were covered with yellow dandelions, and in between, shepherd’s purse and chickweed swayed with tiny blossoms in the wind.

Leeseo brought the tiny petal to her nose. There shouldn’t be a scent, but she closed her eyes and breathed in as if savoring it.

When she’d left, she never imagined days like this would come.

Back then, all she had was fear and despair that she might never see it again, and a heart growing deeper for Junmo. Did she have even a fingernail’s worth of hope?

“Why are you outside? The morning air is chilly.”

Gwisuk, basket at her side, came up with gentle nagging. In the basket was a hoe, and in her gloved hand, a small knife.

“Going to pick mugwort?”

She remembered the taste of mugwort rice cake Gwisuk had offered her a while ago. It wasn’t strong, just plain, but the lingering flavor was unforgettable.

“Mugwort’s too tough this time of year. Shepherd’s purse has flower stalks now, so it’s not great…. See that hollow over there? Go a little further up, and bracken’s everywhere. I’m off to pick bracken. Want to come?”

“I have to go up to Seoul today.”

“Ah, for the wedding preparations?”

“Yes.”

Leeseo answered shyly, smiling.

“All dressed up so pretty, even put on makeup—waiting to meet your groom, are you?”

The hem of Leeseo’s dress fluttered in the wind. Gwisuk stood beside her, looking down at the view below.

“Why’d they send you down here if he’d come get you in less than three days?”

Her voice held a hint of disappointment. Gwisuk said three days, but it had nearly been two weeks since Leeseo came to the countryside. That was just Gwisuk’s way—last month was yesterday, yesterday was yesterday.

By now, the apartment must have been under full renovation. It had been Jun-mo’s idea that she stay in the country until the work was done—he’d said it would do her good to enjoy some peace and quiet for once.

For a while, the two silently looked out at the scenery before them.

“Goodness, the closed school isn’t a closed school anymore. It’s an art museum, an art museum. Look at all those cars coming in from the intersection.”

The closed school had been transformed into a splendid art museum and café. Plus, the artist couple’s exhibition at the end of winter had wrapped up successfully. As Leeseo expected, the response was hot.

The value of the works was one thing, but pieces that could be hung anywhere—living room, kitchen, office—sold out completely, and the artist couple took another step toward their dream.

“Huh? Over there…. Over there….”

Gwisuk pointed her knife down the hill.

“The white car, that one. Isn’t that the groom’s car?”

Leeseo turned her gaze where Gwisuk pointed. Junmo’s car, sometimes hidden by the house, was rapidly approaching.

“Well, speak of the devil and he appears. The saying’s true for people, too.”

Muttering to herself, Gwisuk looked at Leeseo. Leeseo’s face bloomed with a smile brighter than peach blossoms.

‘It’s a good time, a good time.’

“I’ll go pick bracken, then…. Have a good trip, okay?”

Gwisuk, making it clear she was tactfully leaving, put her hands behind her back and walked away.

“…Bracken’s just everywhere, front mountain, back mountain….”

Her slow, unhurried words drifted back as she walked away, followed by a melodic tune.

“The light pink skirt fluttered in the spring breeze….”

Leeseo turned her gaze to where Gwisuk was headed. The lyrics struck her suddenly. Gwisuk hummed as she pushed aside a branch of trifoliate orange that had crossed the path.

“Chewing the ribbon of my dress again today…. On the shrine path where mountain swallows cross….”

She had always thought of it as just an old song, but now the lyrics came alive, vivid as if she could see them before her eyes. The longing in them touched her deeply—perhaps it was the same as what she felt now. Even after the singing stopped, the words lingered in her heart.

Leeseo turned onto the road in front of the pension.

Junmo, who had parked in front of the pension, was striding up the log steps. His movement was confident.

One step, two steps, three steps….

The closer he got, the more her heart beat, though she didn’t show it.

Spotting Leeseo, Junmo raised his hand high. Leeseo waved back. Bathed in the morning sunlight, he looked clearer and more dazzling than ever.

“Hey, what’s with your face?”

Without missing a beat, Junmo said as soon as he saw Leeseo.

“My face?”

Leeseo touched her cheek.

“You don’t have a fever, do you?”

Junmo, now close, checked Leeseo’s forehead with the back of his hand, pretending to take her temperature. After a long time apart, Leeseo looked healthy, her expression lively.

“No fever…. No headache, right?”

Their noses were almost touching.

“I’m fine. I’ve slept well, eaten well, and rested plenty.”

“Is that so?”

Pretending to be annoyed, Junmo raised his eyebrows and cupped Leeseo’s cheeks in his hands. Then, looking into her eyes quietly, he said,

“I couldn’t sleep… couldn’t eat… couldn’t rest.”

“Oh no—you said there were lots of surgeries….”

Her genuine concern filled her small face. She looked so lovely that Junmo held her cheeks and bent down for a quick kiss. Surprised by the sudden kiss, Leeseo pushed at his chest and squirmed.

“What if Aunt Gwisuk sees you?”

“Who’s going to stop a husband from kissing his wife?”

Junmo kissed Leeseo again, this time deeper. Sweet and gentle as a spring breeze, soft as rain on tender grass.

Junmo reluctantly lifted his head, regretful, and pulled Leeseo into his arms. Her small body fit perfectly. After three months of forced abstinence, he found it hard to resist after tasting her lips.

“Do we go straight up to Seoul?”

His voice came out low as he tried to steady his breathing.

“Why so rushed?”

Junmo let go and took Leeseo’s hand, facing her. Today was the day to try on the wedding dress and suit for the ceremony. The realization that they were finally getting married made his heart swell.

“There’s something I want to show you.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll see.”

Junmo took Leeseo’s hand and slowly walked back the way they came. Restarting the car, he drove off. They left the village, crossed the bridge, and passed the town center. Leeseo chatted about recent events: the barbecue party with the artist couple from the closed school, having tea with their acquaintances, meeting with local officials….

“…Aunt Gwisuk and I planted lettuce and crown daisy seeds.”

She added that it was a shame she couldn’t show him the sprouts.

“Oh right, I even made acorn jelly. She told me to stir it, and I thought my arm would fall off. I had no idea it was so much work. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have volunteered…. Oh, Aunt Gwisuk’s jelly soup was really delicious.”

Suddenly, Leeseo stopped and looked at Junmo. He glanced at her, sensing something.

“I’m listening.”

“I know.”

“Then why….”

“Just because.”

Because she liked it. Because she loved that being by his side felt so natural.

She liked every expression he made. The frowning, the playful, the serious… all of them, but especially the ones with a hint of a smile, like now.

“Leeseo.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t look at me—look ahead.”

“Huh? Ahead?”

Turning her gaze, Leeseo gasped. Cherry blossom petals were falling like snow from the sky.

How could this be?

It was breathtakingly beautiful. If she reached out the window, it felt like she could fill her hands with white petals. As she gazed, Junmo squeezed her left hand.

“I was in such a hurry because I wanted to show you this.”

Junmo spoke with the expression Leeseo loved most.

So this was what he wanted to show her…. The thrill and emotion washed over her at once. Leeseo smiled and settled back in her seat. The cherry petals still fluttered, and the sunlight through the window was warm. Driving down the cherry-lined road with Junmo, romance seeped in.

Optimism for happiness, too.

Holding Junmo’s hand tightly, Leeseo leaned her head against the headrest and closed her eyes.

In Leeseo’s heart, the road that would make her flutter forever stretched endlessly, with no expiration date.

– The End –