Chapter 9.1
Jeong-hyeok gazed at Eun-sol’s face for a long time.
Her light brown irises, rounded eyebrows, and lips that looked even prettier when pursed—it all resembled that woman perfectly.
He had always known it, but now he felt it even more strongly.
“…Why are you staring at me like that?”
Under his unwavering gaze, Eun-sol touched her face, checking to see if something was on it.
“Because you’re beautiful. So beautiful that it hurts my eyes… and it makes me angry.”
“Pfft. What’s this? Looks like you’re really feverish.”
Eun-sol smiled coyly.
“But what were you saying earlier?”
“I asked if you were okay. I was going to leave you alone since you seemed to be sleeping, but your breathing didn’t sound right.”
“…I’m not okay. I’m in pain.”
Eun-sol’s eyes widened.
“How much pain are you in?”
“Enough that it wouldn’t be strange if I died right now… just that much… it hurts.”
Eun-sol’s expression turned blank, as if she had just received a terminal diagnosis.
His heart throbbed.
He liked that expression. It felt as though her entire world was filled with him. As if, if he crumbled, she would crumble too. It made him feel like they were perfectly connected as one.
“I’m in pain too… I’m human, after all…”
His throat tightened and burned, as if he had said something he shouldn’t have. Yes, this was natural. He was human, so it was only natural to feel pain.
Eun-sol’s eyes reddened even more.
“Ha, why are you about to cry? Now I can’t even joke around…”
His throat felt cold and sore. Thinking that this warm gaze might one day turn cold and indifferent…
“See? That’s what happens when you don’t sleep properly and overwork yourself. You’re not a robot—how do you expect to keep going? Even robots, ha, need time to recharge!”
With every pause she took to catch her breath, her sincerity came through. It reached the cracks in his loosened heart, digging deeper and deeper until it filled him completely.
These days, everything feels full. And because of that, he was happy—and terrified.
A full moon waning is the fate of the sky.
When he closed his eyes, he was haunted by old memories, and even when he managed to fall asleep, he would wake up at dawn. The sudden waves of anxiety left him feeling suffocated and breathless. The more happiness he felt, the more pain he endured.
“…Then recharge me.”
“Then I’ll call Dr. Kim. If you take your medicine and get some proper rest…”
He grabbed Eun-sol’s arm as she reached for her phone.
“You know that’s not my way of doing things.”
He wrapped his arms around her and spun her around. Eun-sol ended up beneath him.
“Jeong-hyeok… today, really…”
Eun-sol’s gaze was tender, as if soothing a sulking child. He feared that gaze might disappear, and it pained him.
“Jeong-hyeok…”
Instead of responding, he tangled his damp breaths with hers. Their lips met, burning fervently.
He rolled up his shirt and grasped her chest. The hardened tips of her flesh crumbled under his fingertips.
“Aah.”
Like a starving child, he grabbed and grabbed again. Yet, his hunger remained unsatisfied.
* * *
The early monsoon had passed, and a heatwave descended upon the Korean Peninsula.
“What’s so special about Hapjeong-dong, Sis? It’s been forever since you’ve climbed over the fence of your townhouse.”
Hae-seong grumbled. As he mentioned, it had indeed been a long time since Eun-sol had gone out.
Since that date in Songdo, Jeong-hyeok no longer tried to control her outings like he used to.
But Eun-sol didn’t want to disturb the current peace.
No, perhaps this so-called peace was just an illusion, a blindfolded delusion. In truth, her heart often trembled with sudden bouts of unease.
That’s why she avoided going out even more. She had an inexplicable anxiety that something would surely happen if she stepped outside.
However, it had already been a month since Chu Seo-jin’s appearance. Summer was in full swing, and her marital relationship had grown even stronger.
So, there was no reason to keep avoiding going out forever.
“What’s wrong with Hapjeong-dong?”
“I come here almost every day.”
“Well, it’s my first time here. At least since my memory loss. And going far away scares me.”
“What’s there to be scared of? It’s been a while since Jeong-hyeok left for a long overseas business trip. This is the perfect time to get out of Seoul.”
Jeong-hyeok had taken the presidential jet for a business trip to a country called “Akai.” It was a national mission involving politicians and business leaders.
“I like Seoul the best. Look, there are so many people, and it’s so lively.”
Eun-sol took a deep breath, as if the air here was somehow special.
“Is that so? But after coming out for the first time in a while, the best thing you can think of eating is ramen? Do you know how many famous restaurants there are in Hapjeong-dong?”
Despite his endless complaints, Hae-seong took her to a newly opened fusion ramen shop.
The ramen shop was in a remote location and was as small as a storage room. Everything inside—from the tables to the utensil holders—was brand new, suggesting it had just opened. Orders were placed via a kiosk system.
“Hae-seong. How did you even find a place like this?”
“I told you, I know this place better than my own bedroom. But even here, there’s no tomato curry ramen like the one you’re looking for. Still, they might have something similar.”
“Thanks for being thoughtful.”
Eun-sol smiled warmly. At some point, Hae-seong had started to feel like a younger brother to her.
“Did the tomato curry ramen shop completely close down?”
“Seems like it. I’m not usually the type to obsess over food, but even though I don’t remember much, I keep thinking about that taste. A former coworker I ran into by chance told me I used to be a regular there.”
Eun-sol smacked her lips. Lately, her stomach had been feeling unsettled, and she kept craving that tangy and spicy flavor.
“Why did the shop close down?”
“That, I have no idea.”
Just then, the kitchen curtain opened, and a young female owner stepped out.
“Hello? Excuse me for overhearing your conversation from the kitchen, but you must’ve been a regular at the tomato curry ramen shop behind Taepyeong Department Store.”
“Oh, yes… I was, but…”
Eun-sol looked puzzled.
“Actually, I learned the recipe from the owner of that shop and opened this place. In short, I’m their apprentice.”
It was an unexpected situation.
“Anyway, I don’t know the tomato curry ramen recipe because they didn’t pass that one down to me. But I can give the owner a call. If they’re okay with it, I’ll get the recipe and make it for you.”
“Huh? Oh, no. There’s no need to go that far…”
The overly kind owner seemed to be using this as an excuse to get her hands on the tomato curry ramen recipe.
* * *
Twenty minutes later.
Eun-sol found herself in a residential neighborhood, 15 minutes away from Hapjeong-dong by car. She was dumbfounded by how things had escalated to this point.
“That recipe is one I wouldn’t sell for any amount of money. So I thought I’d just make it myself and invited you over.”
The former owner of the now-closed fusion ramen shop, Ms. Kim, was a woman in her mid-50s who welcomed Eun-sol warmly.
“Oh, but this feels like such an inconvenience. I’ll just say hello and be on my way.”
The numerous medicine packets on the table caught her attention. It seemed Ms. Kim wasn’t in good health.
“Oh, no, don’t worry about it. I actually wanted to see you, Eun-sol.”
“You even know my name?”
“Of course! I mean, how bad was the car accident for you to forget everything like this? You’re not hurt anywhere else, are you?”
Ms. Kim asked with concern,
“Yes. Other than not remembering things, my body is fine.”
“Oh, thank goodness for that.”
For Eun-sol, who had lost her memory, Ms. Kim began to recount their connection.
“You weren’t just a regular customer, you know. You were also my savior. At first, my shop was completely empty. But thanks to you writing such good reviews about it every time, business really picked up.”
“Me?”
“Yes. And as we talked more, I found out you’re the daughter of Seol-hwa.”
Eun-sol was even more surprised.
“You know my mom?”
“Yes. We used to live in the same neighborhood when we were young.”
It felt like winning the lottery. At a time when she couldn’t even recall memories with her mother, she had met someone from her mother’s hometown.
“Were you two close?”
“Not super close. Seol-hwa had her own best friend. But it was such a small neighborhood that we knew everything about each other.”
Her heart fluttered. Perhaps she could hear old stories about her mother.
“Can I visit often from now on?”
“Of course, of course. I’ve been so lonely since I closed the shop. Oh, but they say even Mount Geumgang comes after a meal, so let me serve you some ramen first.”
Novalee
The past always finds a way to leak into the present and future.