Boundless

제 4 장

 

I was gone before Jae even stirred.
Slipped like a ghost from the warmth of his arms into the chill of my self-made solitude.
His apartment had felt like a sanctuary—safe, glowing with quiet kindness.
But I fled it.
Ashamed.
Afraid.
Cowardly.

I didn't take his number.
I didn't leave a note.
I didn't say goodbye.

Days bled together, and still I ached with the hope that fate would deliver him back to me—
not with a grand moment, but a fleeting one,
a glance across the street,
a brush of shoulders in a crowded café.
Just enough to see him before he saw me.

At work, surrounded by tiny hands and innocent laughter, I still thought of him.
I imagined his frown when he found my side empty, my absence folded into the sheets.
It hurt more than I expected—
the thought of my name unspoken on his lips,
of his smile dimmed because of me.

He held me like he'd known me forever.
Like he loved me already.
And yet—I ran.
Because kindness like his felt like a lie I couldn't afford to believe.

I cried knowing that Jae, this soft-spoken man with honeyed words and velvet hands,
wouldn't be the one to rescue me from my loneliness.
Not because he didn't want to.
But because I didn't know how to be saved.

I found myself jealous—
not of the woman he loved,
but of the woman he would love.
The one worthy of him.
The one who stayed.
And so I sank, slowly, back into my hollow, colorless life.

I arrived at the elementary school as usual, a part-time job that now felt like a lifeline.
After my morning on campus, I exchanged tired smiles with my colleagues.
Mrs. Kim was at her desk, flipping through papers, her expression brightening when she saw me.

"Ms. Jackson," she beamed, "you're just in time. The chairman's son is here today—he's with the kindergarteners and Ms. Oh!"

My heart skipped.
"Aren't the kindergartners in music development right now?"

She nodded, hands brushing over the stack of new books on her desk.
"These came from Mr. Min. Music books for the kids. He's so generous, nothing like his father."
She paused, voice lowering, amused.
"And handsome too. Great with the children. I think he and Ms. Oh have wonderful chemistry."
She chuckled softly, like it was gossip over tea.
"You should go say hello. Proper etiquette—you are a kindergarten teacher, after all."

I hesitated.
"Should I?"
"Of course, darling," she smiled, already ushering me down the hall toward the classroom.

The sound of laughter spilled into the hallway, bright and childlike, braided with the soft strumming of a guitar.
Through the narrow window of the door, I caught a glimpse—
a man seated on a stool, surrounded by small, adoring faces.
His back to me, caramel-brown hair tousled in soft waves.

Ms. Oh hovered behind him, leaning in close with a flirty smile and a giggle that grated my nerves.
Mrs. Kim opened the door, and the melody didn't falter.
He kept playing, the children kept singing, and I felt like I'd stumbled into a dream I wasn't invited to witness.

Then the song ended, and tiny palms clapped in delight.
A little voice cried, "Ms. Jackson! Teacher!"
And he turned.

Jae.

He stood, startled—his wide eyes meeting mine like a punch to the chest.
His lips parted, breath catching.
"Athena," he said, soft as a prayer.

Mrs. Kim blinked between us, surprised.
"You've met Mr. Min already?"

I couldn't answer.
Couldn't breathe.
Could only stare into the storm of his gaze—part relief, part betrayal.

"Yes, we have," he said quietly, lips not curled into his usual smile.
His disappointment clung to the air like fog.
Ms. Oh chimed in sweetly, sliding her arm through his.
"Great! Then we should all go to your show tonight!" she beamed.

My chest tightened.
She batted her lashes at me as if staking her claim.

"It's not really a show," Jae said, gently pulling away from her touch.
"Just something I do at local bars, nightclubs... It's nothing special."
His eyes flickered downward.
"You probably wouldn't like it."

He didn't finish the sentence.

"I'll go," I said, cutting him off.
His gaze lifted.
I smiled.
"I'll go," I repeated.

That night, the pub hummed with life.

"Give it up for Jae-Eun!" the MC shouted into the mic, and the crowd erupted in applause.
Jae took the stage with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, adjusting his mic and settling into his stool with practiced grace.

Ms. Oh whooped loudly beside me, and I rolled my eyes so hard I saw stars.

But the moment he began to play, the world went still.

"Beauty queen of only eighteen, she
Had some trouble with herself..."

His voice poured into the room like smoke and silk—
soft, aching, raw.
Every lyric pierced through my armor, one syllable at a time.

"Look for the girl with the broken smile,
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile..."

The room blurred.
My ears pulsed with the sound of my heartbeat.
He wasn't singing for the crowd.
He was singing to me—
and I felt every word wrap around my wounds like gauze soaked in moonlight.

When he finished, applause thundered—but he didn't bow.
He didn't linger.
He jumped off the stage like gravity had lost its hold on him.

And he came straight to me.

He swept a finger under my eye—
tears I hadn't realized had fallen.
Then, without a word, he laced his fingers into mine.

Gasps behind us.
Ms. Oh's breath caught.
I didn't look back.

He leaned in, his voice low and serious.

"We need to talk."

And just like that—
I followed him into the night,
willing to listen,
willing to stay,
willing to stop running.