Now and for the Last Time

1 장

Well . . . this was new.

"Dahyun-ssi?" I said as I knocked softly, yet still with enough intensity to convey proper urgency, on the door. "It's Suzy. Can I help you with anything?"

According to her mom, this was Rule Number One in dealing with this kind of situation: don't project a problem. For instinct, don't ask if anything is wrong unless you are certain something is, and as of right now, I was not. Although a bride locking herself in the waiting room of the church five minutes after the wedding was supposed to begin did not exactly went well.

From the other side of the door,  I heard movement. Then a sniffle. Again, I wish Wooyoung, my mom's partner and the company's appointed bride whisperer, was here instead of me. But he's busy with another crisis involving the groom's mother taking issue with preceding the bride's mom down the aisle, even though everyone knew that was how the etiquette went. Work in the wedding business long enough, however, and you learn that everything has the potential to be a problem, from the happy couple all the way down to napkins. You'll never know.

I cleared my throat. "Dahyun-ssi? Can I bring you some water?"

It wasn't ever the true solution, but a water never hurt: that was another rule of my mom's. Instead of a response, the lock clicked, the door opened. I looked behind me at the stairs, praying I'd see Wooyoung coming, but no, I was still alone. I took a breath, then picked up the water bottle I'd grabbed earlier and stepped inside. Hydration for the win.

Our client Dahyun Kim (soon to be Park), a beautiful girl with a bun, was sitting the floor of the small room, her fluffy white dress bunched around her. It had cost five thousand dollars, a fact I knew because she had told us, repeatedly, during the last ten months of planning this day. I tried not to think about this as I moved quickly, but not too quickly, over to her. ("Never run at a wedding unless someone's life is literally in danger!" I heard my mom say in my head.) I'd just opened the water bottle when I realized she was crying.

"Oh, don't do that." I eased down into what I hoped was a professional knee-bent, taking out a slim pack of tissues from my pocket. "Your makeup looks great. Let's keep it that way, okay?"

Dahyun, one false eyelash already loose - some lies are necessary - just blinked at me, sending tears down her already streaked face. "Can I ask you something?"

No, I thought. Now we were at nine minutes. "Sure," I said out loud.

She took a shuddering breath, the kind that comes when you've been crying awhile, and hard. "Do you . . ." A pause, as another tear spilled, this time taking the loose eyelash with it. "Do you believe that true love can really last forever?"

Now someone was coming up the stairs. From the sound of it - large steps, with a fair amount of huffing and puffing already audible - it wasn't Wooyoung. "True love?"

"Yes." She reached up - No! I thought, too late to stop her - rubbing her hand over her eyes and smearing eyeliner sideways up to her temple. The steps behind us were getting louder; whoever the belonged to would be here soon. Meanwhile, Dahyun was just looking at me, her eyes wide and pleading, as if whatever happened next will happen based on my answer. "Do you?"

I knew she wanted a yes or no, something clear and specific and if this were any other question, I probably could have given it to her. But instead, I just sat there, silent, as I tried to put the image in my head - a boy in a white button-up on a dark beach, laughing, one hand reached out to me - into any kind of words.

"Dahyun Kim!" I heard a voice yelled behind us. A moment later her father, Reverend Jonghyun Kim, appeared. His suit was wrinkled, the shirt loosened, and he had a handkerchief in one hand, which he immediately pressed to his sweaty brow. "What in the world are you doing? People are waiting down there!"