I pushed off the door and moved further into the room, following in the wake of his steps before I made any conscious decision to do so. I forced myself to be still, and I folded my arms to disguise the way my hands shook.
I finally found my voice, and I used it to say, “Why are you here?”
He turned to face me, and I forced myself to meet his eyes. He looked away under my scrutiny, and I took the time to study his face, looking for something, anything.
“Because I could not stay away.” His voice was pained, and a flare of something ignited in my chest that was almost, but not quite painful.
“But I will go, if you tell me to.” He paused, and the air seemed to still between us as I said nothing to fill it.
He sighed, almost imperceptibly, and moved around me, back towards the door. He turned as he passed, keeping me in his sight, and a small part of me wondered if he was taking in every detail of me, as I was of him, even as I tried not to look for too long. Drawing an image of him in my mind from glimpses,desperate in a way that made me furious at myself. I tightened my arms around my torso.
“I should not have come.” He avoided my eyes as he backed away, and somehow this made the maelstrom in my blood worse, thundering in my veins with an intensity that made my whole body feel like it was vibrating.
He took three wide steps towards the door when I halted him with one word.
“Stop.” I didn’t even need to raise my voice. “Turn around.”
He turned back, only then raising his face, and his expression was ruinous. He didn’t even try to hide it.
I should feel triumphant. But I couldn’t. Broken people don’t triumph over other broken people. We only tried to pick up the pieces of ourselves around each other.
It was too much. I spun around, padding over to the window, pretending to look out at the view of LA. Even at this hour, the city shone with life. Sparks of light illuminating the buildings, delineating the life within. I imagined someone looking out their window and counting the dim light of my window in the same way.
My eyes roved to the side, snagging on the reflection of Jihoon in the glass. He was so silent behind me, he could have been a statue. But then I saw him raise his arm. He wiped a sleeve across his face.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the cool glass.
My breathing eventually slowed enough that I felt capable of turning around.
“Why did you come?” I asked.
“I told you. I couldn’t stay away.”
“Why?” I demanded.
“What do you mean-”
“Why now? Why now after three years?”
Why now, when I’d finally accepted that I would never get closure, never get the answers that had haunted me with the endless possibilities. Why now when I’d finally – finally proven to myself I could exist in the same world, without him.
He hung his head. I waited for him to say something – anything – but only silence answered me. I swallowed hard and nodded.
“Please leave.”
I swallowed the tremble in the words, forcing myself to take deep breaths, willing my heart to stop it’s ceaseless pounding before it broke through my ribs.
“Jagi–”
“Don’t.” Please, don’t, I nearly begged, pressing a hand to my chest, trying to keep myself upright.
His shoulders heaved with an inhale so heavy it could have been more than air he breathed in. He dragged his hands down his face, leaving them there as if he was ashamed of whatever expression he wore.
“Every day,” he said, voice muffled behind his hands, before he dropped them.
“What?” I frowned, momentarily pulled out of my spiral.
And then he did something that pulled the air from my lungs. He dropped to his knees.
