Chapter 24.2

Chapter 24.2

“Just pretend I’m not here, or think of me as a stranger,” she had told Min-gyu, but he insisted on coming along anyway. Though he stayed close by, she was too drained to argue further. She entered the café alone. Her boss, surprised to see her at that hour, listened attentively as Yeon-ha explained the situation. She told her boss about her ankle surgery a few months ago and how she thought she had recovered enough to take on the job, but it turned out otherwise.

“I’m so sorry.”

She bowed her head, but her boss waved it off. “No need to apologize. You can’t help being sick.”

“It’s a shame, though. You seemed like you’d be a diligent worker.”

Still, her boss was kind enough to thank her for being honest and even said she would love to see her again if the opportunity arose. Yeon-ha thought she was a really good person. Not everyone would have been so understanding. She had expected not to be paid, but to her surprise, her boss immediately transferred her pay for the three days she worked. After expressing her gratitude, Yeon-ha left the café. She noticed a weekend part-timer glancing at her from behind the counter as she left.

All the way home, Yeon-ha said nothing to the man walking silently beside her, matching her pace. She felt both grateful and upset at Min-gyu, who had stayed by her side without a word. She hated how she kept showing him her most vulnerable, pitiful self, and it pained her deeply.

Maybe it was because the tension finally released, but that night her fever worsened. Min-gyu stayed by her side, tending to her as she tossed and turned. He carefully massaged her swollen ankle and calf throughout the night. Usually, she would have told him to stop at some point, but the pain was too unbearable whenever he let go, so she stayed quiet.

He had work tomorrow, too. She felt guilty that he couldn’t even sleep because of her.

“Sorry…”

That was all she could mutter in her feverish daze, over and over. His response, if there was any, was lost to the overwhelming heat that clouded her mind.

***

Time slipped by quietly. Min-gyu had taken time off work to care for Yeon-ha until her fever subsided, but he had returned to work just the day before.

On a sunny afternoon, Yeon-ha stepped outside into the yard for the first time in a while. She dragged a round chair to a corner and sat, basking in the warm spring air. Her eyes lingered on the yellow flowers blooming in one part of the yard. She couldn’t recall seeing them bloom so fully before. Her face, noticeably thinner than before, showed signs of exhaustion.

“This is ridiculous.”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips as she took in her surroundings. She looked like she was recovering from some illness, which wasn’t far from the truth. She couldn’t help but think of how recently she’d been sick more than ever before, just as Min-gyu had pointed out.

“Pathetic.”

She startled herself by speaking aloud and then absentmindedly began fiddling with her phone. Just yesterday, she had a long overdue conversation with a middle school friend, one of the few she had been close to even through high school before moving away. Though a few other friends had tried to reach out, she hadn’t been able to keep up with most of them, and the conversations had naturally faded away.

During the call, as expected, talk of college came up.

“I always thought you’d get into XX University. But you’re still amazing—your grades were always top-notch.”

Her friend’s bright voice made Yeon-ha smile. She knew there was no malice in the comment, even though it stung a bit. Yeon-ha had explained vaguely that she was on a break due to some “circumstances,” adding that she’d hurt her ankle, downplaying the situation.

Through the conversation, she learned how her other classmates were doing—many had gotten into prestigious universities, some choosing fields that perfectly suited their talents. Everyone seemed to be doing well.

When asked about her grandmother, though, Yeon-ha found herself evading the question and quickly ended the call, using her part-time job as an excuse. She couldn’t bring herself to say that her grandmother had passed away.

Yeon-ha sighed heavily as she put her phone down.

A warm spring breeze, now feeling almost stifling, gently rustled her unkempt hair. She sat in the peaceful, tranquil yard, staring blankly at the corner, her eyes unfocused.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when a sudden, intense impulse swept over her. She jumped up and went back inside to her room. In one corner of her immaculately clean room, she pulled out a white envelope from the depths of her bag, which she hadn’t touched in months.

It was the rent money Min-gyu had returned to her in cash several months ago. She hadn’t bothered to deposit it into her bank account and had simply left it there.

She stared at the crisp stacks of 50,000-won bills for a moment, then slowly took one and placed it in her wallet. After blinking a few times, she added another, then another, until a sudden rush of emotion overtook her. Without thinking, she grabbed a fistful of the bills and stuffed them into her wallet before standing up.

“Better to have too much than not enough.”

She quickly prepared to leave, glancing at herself in the mirror by the closet. She was wearing a calf-length short-sleeved dress, the kind she usually wore around the house, along with a mask and a cap. The sunny day outside contrasted sharply with her outfit, but she wanted to cover herself as much as possible. Without hesitation, she hurried out the front door, her steps quick and purposeful.