The lock to the door clicked shut the moment Hye-jin made it inside the house. Weight dug against her chest and stomach as she balanced herself on one foot at a time to kick off the worn shoes off them. She stepped into the ante, dreading the amount of work bound to greet her the moment she turned on the lights.
So, she didn't. Instead, she stalked in the dark, taking memorized and measured steps towards the kitchen counter. She passed the living room, where an empty couch sulked. There had been a time when that couch had been a place of happy memories, moments where she laughed as much as she could. Moments she thought would never end.
But the curtains have closed and opened. This time, a brand new scene awaited them. And it was lost on her how fast the transition went and how it flew below her nose only to rip the rug from under her feet. On the niches nailed straight into the wall, a lone vase standing on some sort of a destined pedestal caught her attention. Like all the days she glanced at it, no flowers bloomed over its lip.
Hye-jin shuffled to the kitchen counter as if someone chased her. Her arms couldn't wait to be free of the weight of the paper bags still smelling like the putrid air of the grocery. She pushed the bags deeper into the counter, the dark succeeding in keeping her company. With a sigh, she stuck her hand inside the nearest bag, the one containing the soaps and other non-edible substances. The bottle of dishwashing liquid hadn't even left the bag when the sound of distinct crying reached her ears.
Alertness seized her heart. The grocery bags were forgotten as she rushed from the kitchen towards the only bedroom in the house. She threw the door open to find a woman with messier hair than her staring at a wailing infant who was already pulsing red in the face.
"Okaa-san!" she screamed, jolting the older woman back from whatever reverie she was in. Hye-jin slid over to the infant and held him close, muttering words of comfort under her breath. "I told you to watch over him!"
Her own son. Leaving her daughter-in-law to play a role she couldn't—how cruel could this world be to Hye-jin? "Rin would kill us both!"
"My boy wouldn't hurt anyone," Okaa-san said, her gaze melting into a dreamy look. Oh, dear. Not this again. "He would never hurt anyone."
Hye-jin winced as the infant's wails drowned out the rest of her mother-in-law's incoherent mumblings. She shouldn't have left them on their own. But what about the groceries? Someone has to go, and Rin wouldn't be home until well after midnight. They need to have something for dinner, too.
She rocked the infant, shushing him. Come on, little one. What's wrong with you?
It's a good thing she learned how to take care of children when she helped around with her cousins. If she could just get him to shut up quickly. Dinner wasn't going to cook itself. "Okaa-san, what would you want for dinner?" she asked, peering at the older woman from her pointy elbows. Her mother-in-law hasn't risen from her kneeling position. "I'm thinking of doing jjajangmyeon and gimbap today. Is that alright? We can do dishes from home tomorrow. I'll look for shrimp in the morning market tomorrow."
As usual, she was met with an unfocused gaze. Hye-jin rocked the baby and checked around for anything that seemed out of place. His diaper was still good. Another hour, perhaps. Sweat? The air conditioner was set to room temperature as far as she could remember. She backtracked out of the bedroom and glanced at the clock in the living room. 6:30. Time for the little one's dinner. She might have been later. That's because she needed to step out for groceries.
Hye-jin trudged to the kitchen counter, bearing the baby in one arm. She yanked the door to one of the cupboards to reveal the baby formula. Using her free hand, she set to prepare the bottle. When she was done, she stuck it into his mouth and watched him suckle away, his beady eyes staring up at her. He should have been staring up at his mother, not Hye-jin.
When the baby had finished the bottle, Hye-jin proceeded to make him burp. She glanced at the clock once more. 6:40. Her mother-in-law would be asking for food at around seven-thirty. She should hurry. She could at least roll the gimbap while the noodles were boiling.
At 6:50, the baby was snoozing in her arms. A small sigh of relief flitted off her lips. Slowly, she moved to set him down in the crib. When he had already settled for a few minutes without budging, Hye-jin whizzed out of the bedroom, giving her mother-in-law a quick bow to acknowledge her.
Then, she was flying all over the kitchen. With an apron barely tied around her waist, she drew food containers from the fridge containing the chopped ingredients for jjajangmyeon. She had praised herself for preparing in advance this morning, but all of that hard work went down the drain considering she was still running around and being late.
The minutes bled into an hour. Hye-jin's hands never stopped for a second. By the time her mother-in-law stumbled out of the bedroom, she was already laying a steaming pile of food on the dining table. As usual, a small bowl of kimchi waited along with the empty plates.
Dinner couldn't pass slower. Soon, her mother-in-law pushed her half-eaten food away before standing up and retreating back to the bedroom. Hye-jin pursed her lips. Had her mother-in-law even liked the food? Rin assured her his mother would eat anything and be grateful for it, but the way she behaved when her son wasn't home told Hye-jin otherwise.
She pushed the strands of dark hair off her forehead. Her hand came away wet. Ugh. She leaned over the table, watching the direction her mother-in-law had disappeared to. She waited for her to creep out of the room, having changed her mind in consuming her food. Nothing of the sort happened.
Her gaze dug against the half-eaten meal. It'd be a waste if she threw it in the trash. Money was hard enough to come by as it was. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she wasted food.
So, with her heart heavy, she slid the plate towards her spot on the table, snatched a fresh pair of chopsticks, and took a bite. And another. And another. As usual, she couldn't taste what she's eating anymore. After dinner, she would have to wash the dishes, take a bath, and do a quick tidying. Then, she'd wait for Rin to come home before allowing herself to pass out too.
Then, it's a brand new day once more.
She finished eating and cleared the table. The pile in the sink increased. Then, she glanced at her hands, already beginning to quake since the last few months. The dishes weren't going to wash themselves. What if she had just cooked? A few minutes of rest by eating dinner was enough. With a clenched jaw, she stuck her hand into the cold water and began the chore.
The clock read 9:30 by the time Hye-jin ran out of things to do. She dropped into the dining table, staring at the bright laptop welcome screen blinking back at her. It's time to work on her pitch, but after everything that happened, she wasn't sure if she was still in the mood to do so.
She shook her head. This was the only time she could steal for herself. It's best to make the most out of it. Her fingers poised over the keyboard and were supposed to type some more words into her pending proposal. That's when infant wails tore through the bedroom's walls.
Something snapped in Hye-jin's mind. Whether it was her hope that tomorrow would at least be better for her or just the bare threads of sanity she's hanging on to, she didn't know. With a drawn sigh, she stalked towards the bedroom and attended to a child that wasn't hers. Once more.
Was this all there was to life? Just the linear flow of things from morning to evening. Always tired. Always wondering if tomorrow's going to be kinder than this. Always reaching out for the future that she wished for.
This sucked.
If only she could forget all of this and start over somewhere. She would be happy. Maybe. It's not like it's going to happen any time soon. She didn't even know what to look forward to anymore. What's there to be excited about when she couldn't remember the things that made her happy before?
Being stuck—it's a horrible feeling to have. So if the Hye-jin in the future manages to make a better life for herself, please never go back to this dark, dark time. Forget the past. Live for the future. She owed herself that at the very least.
If she was given a chance to be someone else, she'd never choose to be Joon Hye-jin. Not now.
Not ever.