Chapter 64.2

Chapter 64.2

Inside the file were a list of newspaper and magazine companies neatly written and printed by Ryan using a word processor, the original text of the press release, and several photos.

André, after skimming through the documents, pointed to one of the photos.

[Proceed with the press release as is, and use this photo.]

[Yes, I understand!]

As Ryan received the file and reached out to gather the photos scattered on the desk, André stopped him.

[Wait.]

Ryan, frozen with his hand outstretched, swallowed hard and looked up. Then, André picked up one of the photos from the floor. He then gave a short nod.

[Now go].

Ryan gathered the other photos, except for the one André was holding, swept them into the file, and hurriedly left the Vice Chairman’s office.

‘André de Lafayette collecting a photo.’

He felt a sense of incongruity, though he couldn’t explain why.

He chuckled and shrugged.

‘André de Lafayette must be human after all. He probably wanted to keep a good picture of him as a memento.’

—

It was hard to believe that almost two months had already passed since the new year began.

Standing in the cold weather, where it was sleeting—like snow and rain mixed together—wearing a miniskirt and handing out flyers, her frozen legs stung against her pants every time she walked.

When Miran arrived home, she habitually opened the mailbox, took out the accumulated mail, and climbed the stairs.

Then, she grabbed the railing and collapsed on the stairs.

“…It’s here! It’s finally here!”

It was a reply that came four and a half months after André had left.

Miran grabbed the railing and pulled herself up. Her legs were trembling.

“Surely, this isn’t a dream, is it?”

She resisted the urge to open it right there and then, went up to the second floor, and opened the front door. Then, she sat down on the stone floor of the entrance and opened the envelope.

Inside, there was only one photo.

With trembling hands, Miran took out the photo and sobbed, holding it to her chest. She had been gradually letting go of her unrequited love, little by little, every day. But as soon as she saw his photo, memories of André flooded back to her in a jumble.

The way he handed her candy in front of the electric pole in the rooftop room, the expression on his face as he turned away after kicking Jung Byungjin, the look in his eyes as he pressed down on her and entered, the way he smiled while cooking.

It was so hard, she wanted to forget André.

But love isn’t something you can cut out with a pair of scissors.

What could she do? She loved him.

Now, she couldn’t give up because of the small spark of hope that André had given her.

“Even though I, hic, asked him to just send one photo instead of a reply, sniff, did he really have to send just one photo…”

Wiping away tears with the back of her hand, Miran cried and laughed. Then, as soon as she flipped the photo over, she started hiccuping.

“Hic! There’s something written on it.”

Miran patted her chest and read the message written in Korean.

[You don’t need to return the money in the envelope.

Nor the shirt and cufflinks.

I’m busy. That’s why I can’t reply.

Take care and stay healthy.

André]

It was a message so dry it was almost brittle, like it would crumble and scatter in the wind.

“I knew it, hic, but really… he’s so cold, so cold. Not even one word saying he misses me, hic.”

Miran pouted her lips and gently traced his name with her fingertips.

“André…”

So his name wasn’t ‘Andle’ but ‘André.’ She felt a flush of embarrassment. She had been sending letters with his name misspelled all this time, it was fortunate that the letters were delivered to him at all.

Miran carefully held the photo by the edges, being cautious not to leave fingerprints, and flipped it over.

André was sitting on a sofa in a navy striped suit, gazing at her with arrogant eyes. Behind the luxurious leather sofa hung a painting of a horse, and he was holding brown gloves in his hand.

It looked like a classic and luxurious menswear advertisement that you might see in a fashion magazine. On the other hand, André also felt unfamiliar. She felt a little uneasy, as if he were someone living in a high place she couldn’t reach.

While looking at the photo, her hiccups had stopped without her noticing.

“Wait for me, André… I’ll come see you soon.”

Muttering under her breath, Miran dusted herself off and stood up from the cold porch floor.