Just as It Was Then

The last of the moving boxes were loaded onto the truck.

Yeon-jae dropped her gaze as she watched the movers looking around the hollowed-out house. She swallowed a sigh at the phone screen that was still empty.

"Don't look for a house. I'll decide where we're moving."

"......"

"Just bring yourself. And Ji-woo."

Taking Ji-woo back and forth to Seoul to look at houses was no longer feasible. But they couldn't very well move to Seoul without a place to live, either. In the end, Yeon-jae had no choice but to follow Je-heon's lead.

If she was being honest with herself, she had felt a little worn down ever since that day at the emergency room.

Maybe it would be all right to go along with him this time.

They could always look for a place of their own once they were settled there, she told herself, a self-deprecating murmur, and went on finishing up the last of what they would take with them.

"Jeong Ji-woo!"

A high-pitched voice rang in her ear. Ji-woo, who had been fussing beside Yeon-jae packing something into his bag, jerked his head up.

"You're here?"

"Yeah! The house is already empty? The truck's packed full."

"Seo-ha, if you'd dawdled any longer, you would have missed us."

It was Seo-ha. When Yeon-jae took her eyes off the girl, Hye-gyeong waved at her, then came over and held out an electrolyte drink.

"Ji-woo's mom, you've had it rough, haven't you? Drink this."

"Thank you, Seo-ha's mother."

She had been thirsty anyway. Yeon-jae smiled broadly at Hye-gyeong.

"Don't mention it. Ji-woo, you have one too. Seo-ha said you like this, so I bought it."

"Whoa. Choco-Emong! Thank you so much."

Ji-woo jumped to his feet and dusted off his hands, then took the milk Hye-gyeong offered and grinned from ear to ear.

"Jeong Ji-woo, are you a baby? Chocolate stuff like that is for babies."

Seo-ha, who had been watching him, said this with her eyes narrowed in a prim little glare.

"Why? This is delicious. What are you drinking, Seo-ha?"

"Mine's coffee-flavored."

"Eww. You're not supposed to drink coffee!"

"It's fine 'cause I'm tall."

Seo-ha planted both hands on her hips, looking thoroughly triumphant. She was taller than most girls her age. Ji-woo stared at her with an incredulous look, then turned to Yeon-jae. His eyes seemed to say, Mom, is she allowed to do that? She's still a baby!

"Seo-ha, even if it's milk, it's better to wait until you're a little older to drink coffee."

Yeon-jae had been watching the two children. She approached and spoke carefully.

"Ji-woo's mom, leave her be. My daughter's stubborn as an ox. You can't get through to her."

Hye-gyeong, who had been watching the whole exchange, waved both hands through the air, adding that they had already had a whole round of this at the convenience store and she had thrown up her hands in surrender.

"Well. Once kids start talking, all sorts of things happen."

"I know. I wonder who she takes after."

Yeon-jae sometimes felt bewildered herself. As their ability to express themselves grew more certain and their vocabulary richer, the children developed their own distinct thoughts and opinions.

"Who she takes after? She takes after Seo-ha's dad! Mom always calls her Jang Deok-gyu Junior."

"That's right, that's right. You Jang folks — the two of you are identical."

"Hmph."

Arms crossed, the girl spun her back on Hye-gyeong and went over to Ji-woo. The two of them seemed to whisper something, then burst into giggles. Before long they were sitting together, chatting away like the oldest of friends.

They were so close — what would happen once Ji-woo moved away?

"Seo-ha likes him so much. Hearing you're moving, I feel sad myself."

"I know. Ji-woo was really sad about it too."

"Was he? Seo-ha will be happy if you tell her that."

Yeon-jae smiled faintly at Hye-gyeong. There were a few friends Ji-woo was close with at kindergarten, but lately none he saw as often as Seo-ha. Until he fell asleep after coming home, the things Ji-woo chattered about were the piano and Seo-ha.

"Ji-woo's mom. Keep in touch even after you go to Seoul. We'll come visit sometimes."

"I'll come down with Ji-woo now and then too. Thank you so much, Seo-ha's mother."

As they were exchanging farewells, one of the movers approached Yeon-jae.

"Ma'am, we need to get going now. What's the address of the Seoul house you're moving to?"

Yeon-jae pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and lit up the screen. A single message had appeared. It must have arrived while she was greeting Hye-gyeong and Seo-ha.

"Just a moment. I'll tell you now."

Yeon-jae opened the message with impatient fingers. And then, as the brief line of text appeared on the screen, the corners of her mouth slowly fell. Her pupils trembled violently as she stared at the phone.

At the maddeningly familiar address, Yeon-jae's hands began to shake.

It was Je-heon's residence — the one where the two of them had lived together.

The heavily guarded security gate opened surprisingly easily for the truck carrying Yeon-jae and Ji-woo. As if Je-heon had given word in advance.

I almost wish they'd blocked us and we'd had to turn back.

The moving truck entered the underground parking garage and, before long, came to a stop. Yeon-jae got out and scanned her surroundings. Cars of every kind were parked there. Even Yeon-jae, who knew nothing about cars, recognized some of the supercars among them, and she swallowed.

"Mom, are we going to live here?"

The child's voice curling around her ear broke her reverie.

"Hmm? Uh, well....... For now?"

"Really? This looks like an apartment. It's so huge and everything's all sparkly!"

The child's voice was flushed with excitement as he stood with both palms pressed against the entrance door. Ji-woo's eyes shimmered at the gleaming marble floor visible beyond the glass.

"Ahjussi really is rich."

Watching the awestruck child, Yeon-jae turned to look at the truck. A small truck that did not belong among the gleaming luxury cars parked all around. Their belongings had always been modest, so they hadn't even needed a large moving truck — they had called a one-ton truck. Even what they had, they had discarded and sorted down to just a few things.

Inside the truck sat a used single-door refrigerator, a microwave, a fan. And a few boxes of clothes. Things that looked shabby and utterly out of place in a residence this luxurious.

Yeon-jae opened the apartment entrance as the movers approached. There was no need to check the passcode. Even after five years, it was still vivid in her memory.

"The forty-seventh floor is the top floor. Baby's mom must've made a lot of money. This place is crazy expensive."

The elevator heading to the forty-seventh floor — the highest penthouse floor — climbed endlessly. And when it finally stopped, Yeon-jae stepped out and walked with familiar ease. Then she opened the front door. He had said he would leave it unlocked, and it really was open.

As Yeon-jae and Ji-woo stepped inside, the lights came on one after another.

"Whoa. Mom, the lights came on by themselves. Did you see?"

Yeon-jae smiled awkwardly. Unlike Ji-woo, for whom everything was simply wondrous, Yeon-jae felt as if a dull lump of lead were pressing down on her chest, leaving her breathless.

"Where should we unpack?"

"Don't unpack. Could you just stack everything here in the pantry?"

"Huh? The stuff?"

The movers looked at her in puzzlement, then glanced around and quickly nodded. It was a house so perfectly furnished that Yeon-jae did not even need to unpack what she had brought.

"Ahh. So it's a fully optioned place. My, look at that view. You can see the whole Han River. So we just put everything in the pantry, right?"

"Yes."

The workers quickly stacked the belongings inside the pantry, said their goodbyes, and left.

"Whoa! It's so huge!"

Ji-woo, who had taken off his shoes and gone in, ran toward the living room with an excited face. Yeon-jae had been about to tell him not to run, but the words died in her throat.

Walking down the long hallway past the inner door, a sense of unease gradually crept over her. Surely it was not still the same as when she had lived here with him. It couldn't be, she muttered, even as her heart pounded unsteadily in her chest.

And then, at last, when they rounded the corner and entered the living room, Ji-woo — who had stopped there first — pointed somewhere with his index finger.

"Mommmm. Look at that!"

Yeon-jae's eyes, following the child's small finger, widened beyond any hope of stopping them.

"It's a piano! And it's super big and expensive!"

At the end of her gaze stood a piano. In the center of the living room, before a wall of glass that held the Han River in its frame, sat a jet-black grand piano.

And as the rest of the interior gradually filled her vision, she squeezed her eyes shut. Behind her closed lids, Yeon-jae's lashes trembled helplessly.

Incredibly — impossibly — the residence was exactly as it had been when Yeon-jae and Je-heon had lived there together.