TLT 113

The atmosphere was no different from usual.

We ordered our usual dishes and talked about work. The only difference was that Ian ordered wine. He liked alcohol, but come to think of it, I could count on one hand the number of times I’d drunk with him.

Before long, a delicious-looking steak was placed in front of me. A soft melody filled the space, as if they had invited a violinist today. Last time it was a piano.

Ian was still calm. He picked up his knife and skillfully cut the steak. I had the funny thought that his elegant gestures might be similar to those of a British aristocrat.

I guess I was wrong. I was sure the atmosphere was unusual earlier.

“The exhibition we saw last time, they’ve put up new works, do you want to go see them?”

“It was definitely good.”

The place he mentioned was an exhibition held in a small gallery. I found out about it through Ian’s introduction, and I would go to see it from time to time when I wasn’t busy with work. I enjoyed sharing my impressions with him more than going alone, so I often went with him.

Ian put down his fork and slowly drank his wine. His eyes were completely focused on me. He seemed to be waiting for my answer. But when I didn’t say anything, he put down his glass and said,

“How about this Saturday?”

He always suggested things to me first. This exhibition too. Until now, I hadn’t felt the need to refuse, and most of them were quite interesting suggestions, so I always accepted. Is that why? He didn’t seem to have considered the possibility of me refusing.

Actually, it was the same this time.

There was no reason to refuse to see the exhibition. It wasn’t what you’d call a date. We often spent the whole day together when we met, but there was no guarantee that it would be the same this time.

I pretended to think about it and gave him an ambiguous answer.

“I’ll check my schedule. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“…Okay.”

Ian let out a long groan, as if dissatisfied with my lukewarm answer. His slightly raised eyebrows told me he was uncomfortable. I could refuse, you know. He was only a year older than me, but he seemed young at times like this.

Of course, I usually relied on him more.

I deliberately picked up my glass and slowly took a sip of wine. It was bittersweet and well-balanced. The taste was pretty good for the price.

“This place has good wine too. I should drink it again sometime.”

“With whom?”

There were a lot of people asking about my every move today. Yi-tae and Ian. What do these two have in common? It was as if they were jealous.

I stared blankly at him. I was very puzzled because he was not the kind of person who would be curious about this. I knew that feelings could change at any time. Was I blindly believing his resolute answer?

Why didn’t I suspect it? Even though the evidence was so clear. Wanting to be together, wanting to spend time together, wanting to go to new places. I’ve already experienced it, haven’t I? It was natural to want to be with someone you like.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Then come with me again.”

Don’t you really like me?

His face was always like this. He didn’t blush or avoid eye contact like Yi-tae. His attitude was friendly, but it was within the range of what was possible for a friend. But wasn’t it enough to be misunderstood now?

This is just my imagination. Absolutely not.

Those tense, unfamiliar eyes couldn’t be lying.

“…Ian.”

“Can I say something first?”

So I tried to get to the bottom of it even more thoroughly. I didn’t like things being ambiguous. If his feelings had changed since then, and if he had even a glimmer of hope for me, it was right to answer him. You could call it arrogance.

I thought it was right to cut it off. If I couldn’t reciprocate his feelings.

“Uh, feel free to say it.”

That’s why we met. I couldn’t ignore that subtle feeling, so I agreed. We were pretty much done with our meal, and the restaurant was quiet enough, so the atmosphere was perfect for talking. I’d have to hear what he had to say to know if my prediction was correct.

Ian’s long eyelashes fluttered.

“Don’t you want to keep living in Seattle?”

“It’s not bad.”

“I’m American.”

He suddenly brought up something obvious. It was such an unexpected statement that I could only blink my eyes without saying anything. What is it? Is this the foundation for saying, “Actually, I’m a racist”? That would be hard to accept.

Uh… I answered vaguely. Ian stared at me silently. As far as I could tell, he didn’t seem to know what he was talking about either. Well, if you’re a racist, you need to be prepared to reveal it. Of course, I don’t think I’d be able to accept it.

He opened his mouth again.

“Washington State allows same-sex marriage.”

“……”

“If you marry an American, you can get a green card.”

What kind of bizarre three-stage logic is this?

Ian uttered three sentences that didn’t logically connect and then shut his mouth. His cheeks were flushed, unlike his usual self. It took me a long time to understand.

So, if I marry him, an American, I can get a green card and live in Seattle. Is that what he wants to say? So, he’s asking me to marry him?

My mouth gradually opened. I couldn’t close it. I wasn’t sure if I understood him correctly. There was no way he could have come to such a radical conclusion. It didn’t make sense.

Words that I hadn’t even finished processing came out first.

“Do you… love me?”

You don’t think about marriage unless it’s beyond just ‘liking’ someone. I was so dazed that I asked like an idiot. Ian was embarrassed, but he didn’t avoid my eyes and looked straight at me.

He answered clearly without being vague.

“Yes, I love you.”

“No, wait a minute. You said you didn’t like me back then.”

“That was just a simple crush back then.”

This was a word game. He was the one who confessed, but I felt like I was the one who was completely caught off guard. Putting aside the uncool confession, I didn’t even know what to point out first.

My throat was dry. It was nice to see him being confident in his love, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t flustered. Of all things, the water had run out, so I quickly gulped down the wine. The sweet aftertaste lingered unpleasantly on my tongue.

It took me a long time to sort out my thoughts. In the meantime, Ian spoke first.

“Gyeoul. I want to marry you.”

“……”

“I’ll be really useful in your life. I’m sure of it.”

No matter how I thought about it, it wasn’t a confession. He’s asking me to marry him because he’ll be useful. I’ve definitely heard that Ian has a lot of dating experience, but what is this uncool proposal? No, all the procedures and processes have been omitted in the first place.

I swallowed a sigh and called him.

“Ian.”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve never confessed to anyone before, have you?”

He nodded obediently.

He pretended to be relaxed, but he wasn’t. I began to understand his recent actions. He must have felt a sense of crisis after I started hanging out with Yi-tae.

The violin melody slowly came to an end. Today’s short performance was over. I could hear the cheers of the people applauding him. It seemed like today’s conversation would be long.

∗ ∗ ∗

I put the pre-cut tofu in last and simmered it over low heat. It would be done in just five more minutes. The savory smell of the soybean paste stew spread throughout the apartment. It was already well past 10 p.m., but Gyeoul hadn’t come home yet.

I was sure I saw him leaving with Ian earlier…

I repeatedly opened and closed the pot lid. I washed the knife and checked to see if the stir-fried pork was cooked well. I went to the living room and looked at the front door and came back, but nothing had changed. Only two more minutes had passed.

Ian liked Gyeoul. It was an intuition.

He seemed to be an indispensable person in Gyeoul’s life. At least as far as Seattle was concerned. I heard that Gyeoul bought that messy painting that he had turned upside down at an exhibition he went to with Ian.

It must have progressed a lot already.

…Should I even be here? Am I blocking Gyeoul’s love? But that guy wasn’t it. A better person should be with Gyeoul. I wanted him to date someone who was relaxed, kind, and upright enough for Gyeoul to rely on.

So this is ugly jealousy… That’s right. I was jealous of him even though I wasn’t qualified.

Ian, who I had been watching for a while, was outstanding in his work and kind enough to Gyeoul. He also seemed to be sincere enough for his love to show.

Ah.

My index finger accidentally touched the pot, and the tip of my finger turned red. It must have been burned, judging by how it was slowly swelling up. I turned on the cold water and put my finger under it. Water droplets fell like rain. It was hot, but it didn’t hurt.

I turned off the gas stove with my other hand. The bubbling sound disappeared without a trace.

I grabbed the cell phone in my pocket and put it down. I was dying to ask him when he was coming home. It was already past the time he should have been home. Gyeoul liked being at home. He even said that he was more tired these days.

I turned off the water because it seemed to have cooled down a bit. There was still some heat left, but I couldn’t feel the pain.

I sat in a chair and stared blankly. What if Ian confessed? What do I do? There’s nothing I can do. No, it’s right for me to disappear…

Then I heard the door lock open. The button was pressed with very slow movements.