Paper Toads and a Hundred Roses | Lee Sung Kyung & Nam Joo Hyuk

2. No, You Can't Do That

I shake my head. "No," I whisper pleadingly.

    "No?"

    "You can't do that," I insist, the tears finally flowing freely as I let go of all my pent up emotions from a year ago.

    "Sung Kyung—" he moves closer and tries to touch my arm but I recoil.

    "You're not allowed to do that," I say with pained finality, looking up at him, letting him see how much he has damaged me. "You're not allowed to be like this, Joo Hyuk," I sob, my face contorting because of the pain that comes along with treating him like this. But as I have said, I could never afford the luxury of having options. "Not when all you did was abandon me—"

    "I didn't abandon you," he looks at me seriously, his eyes glossed over. I know that he didn't need all of this drama. He's always hated it; always told me to promise not to make our lives like the dramas that we film. But why should I blame myself when it was entirely his fault? "I chose what I think was best for you—both of you."

    "Bullshit," I spat and right at that moment, I feel nothing but anger for what he put me through. "You know damn well that's what all of them say. You chose what was best for you and no one else," My knees are weak and I thank the heavens that we're sitting down. The tears halted but I feel them coming in again as my heart pumps faster, my blood boils to a higher degree. "I'm done with all of this, Nam," I divert my eyes to the car's ceiling, convincing myself that maybe it was better when he wasn't there at all. "You're so contradicting, telling me—promising me all the things that you couldn't do."

    "Please, I don't want to fight with you," he says, "not right now," his voice breaks in the process as he crouches to move closer to me and kneel in front of me. "I'm sorry," he chokes out as my eyes show nothing but utter surprise at the way that I have the mighty Nam Joo Hyuk begging for something that I couldn't give him. "I'm sorry," he looks up at me, holding both of my hands in a tight grip as a tear rolls down his left cheek. "I'm sorry," he repeats as silent sobs escape his throat. He leans his forehead on top of our clasped hands but I'm completely immobile. My mind is blank but I've come to a decision.

    "I can't do this anymore," I whisper, looking straight ahead.

    "I'm not asking you to come back to me,"

    "And I'm not telling you that I will if you ever thought about really doing so," I look him in the eye—one last time, committing to memory every curve and hue and imperfection. This is the last time and I will deprive myself of anything more. "Leave me be,"

    And that's all it took for him to recognize in the depths of my eyes that I didn't want him anymore; that I'm done; that I'm not gonna take anything no matter how much the gravity is of what he could offer. Maybe this is where we're meant to head towards—closure.

    Even if I'm just pretending that I didn't love him anymore.

    The first thing that I asked my manager to do was to bring me home. The drive to my house was nothing but lingering questions and jumbled thoughts being forced on stone. Ji Soo didn't go back with me and I understand why. I'm not insensitive to the fact that I'm hurting his best friend worse than he did to me. Second chances are messier than the first ones. I've been living my entire life trying to avoid it. No matter how much I try to tell myself that what I did was something I would regret, I couldn't simply turn back and hurt my pride like I did the first time.

    As soon as I opened my front door, silence surrounded me as I sigh. It still feels strange to come home to nothing—to a void of memories and the reminder of empty whispers and sweet little nothings. The house is big but it appears bigger because as of the moment, I'm the only one in it. And to an extent, my life feels the same. It's too big to the point where I can no longer conquer it on my own. I stare at the cream walls and entryways with pillars bathed in gold lining. I stare at the marble stairs and the aesthetic paintings. Everything seemed old world—extravagant and yet I realize that everything in this house isn't my decision. I didn't pick the colors or the furniture or how big it should be. Does my life always need to be controlled by someone even if I don't want them to?

    I remove my shoes and leave them by the rack next to the front door. The chandelier in the dining room is lit so I thought that maybe my manager called the help and told them that I'll be arriving. It feels nice to walk around bare footed. It allowed me some sort of minuscule freedom. I walk towards the fridge and take out a pitcher of water. I take a glass from the cupboard and pour some in. I turn and lean on the marble counter, pinching the bridge of my nose and thinking the day through. It's become a hobby of mine—thinking.

    And it's starting to become something bad for me.

    I thought about how far the problem has come and I can't help but feel that it will become worse in just a matter of a few more mistakes committed. I take a sip of water, letting the cool liquid slide down my throat, bringing my worries with it. I place the glass down and look at my feet, all its creases and smallest of dents.

    The doorbell drove me away from my reverie just as my housekeeper came from the back door, looking surprised to see me there already. "Miss," her face brightens and I can't help but let myself have the same expression. "You didn't call for me."

    I just smile. "I'll get the door," I smile at her. "I think I know who it might be." And for the first time today, my spirits are soaring a bit higher. I can't deny that I'm excited because I haven't been here for a few days. For a moment, I forgot about my issues and pushed them aside. I can't think of anything else but how I've missed his voice and how much comfort he brings without having to say anything at all. My smile grows wider, covering the true feelings that are building a home deep within me. I walk excitedly towards the door and open it wide to see Kim Go Eun, holding a small hand in her left one. She has a bag slung over her right shoulder as she smiles wide at me. She comes forward to hug me and I'm so thankful for her.

"Sung Kyung," she says, smiling so bright. I can't tell her anything right now. I can't ruin her mood. "How has Busan been?"

    "Keeps getting better," I say before looking down at the little boy next to her, smiling up at me with all his teeth showing like how I've taught him. "Lee Joon Seo,"

    The two-year old reaches his arms out to me, "Mom!"