Sun & Moon

THIRTY

In the morning, Doyoung takes a day off work for the first time in what seems like virtually forever. He's not quite sure how he should dress; he wavers at his closet, his fingertips lingering between his best suit and his casual clothes. Reluctantly, he grabs a pair of black pants, a dark turtle neck, and a beige jacket.

When Doyoung heads to his car, he finds that his steps are slow, hesitant even. He can't seem to lift one foot without thinking about it, and each step forward feels like an approach towards a large cliff.

The drive is not incredibly long, yet each minute feels like an eon of standstill. Only an hour later does Doyoung arrive at his destination, but he can't seem to get out of his car. There are lead and mercury flowing in his veins, a heavyweight that Doyoung cannot rid of. His mind feels clouded, but he shakes off feelings of doubt and slowly leaves his car.

His fingers skim the doorbell as if pushing it would lead to an inevitable complication. At last, he presses it, and it is only a few seconds until the door opens.

The woman who opens the door is a face far too familiar to Doyoung. Of course, it would be. It's a face that has been haunting him since his youth. The shock and utter disbelief, however, is not something Doyoung is accustomed to, and it only results in him replying with a sheepish smile: a nervous and childish smile that hasn't graced his face in the longest of times.

"Hi, mom."

. . .

Mrs. Kim is somewhat of an extraordinary woman. She had gotten into the same university as her husband and son but was the first in her family to achieve any sort of higher education. She was looking forward to city life, and the excitement of becoming an independent office-lady was all she could think of. Her husband-to-be was an upperclassman; she wasn't quite sure why she was drawn to his quiet nature, but she felt a sense of calm around him and fell in love, not knowing he was an heir to a prestigious corporate. He, himself, fell for her intelligent and bright personality; she was a refreshing change in the wind. They got married the same year he started working and she graduated. But instead of pursuing her career the way she had dreamt of, Mrs. Kim became a wife and a mother.

To Doyoung, it didn't matter how amazing of a person his mother was. She was the only place he had ever felt warmth and love while growing up in an environment of harsh and freezing reality.

When Doyoung rings her doorbell, nothing could have prepared her for the overwhelming wave of relief and daze.

"Why are you here? I mean, how?" she stutters out. Her world seems to have aligned itself all at once, but the sudden change from the misalignment she has been so used to is too much for her to adapt to. "Come in, come in."

Doyoung walks in slowly, absorbing his surroundings. Her home is just like her, glowing with hospitality and warmth. He sits down at a sofa, staring at an arrangement of flowers on the coffee table since he feels too awkward to look at anything else.

Surely, she arranged those flowers himself.

"I like how you decorated." The words come out easily, but inside, Doyoung feels like he's barely avoiding stepping on glass. Each action carries so much caution and pain; his every instinct tells him to stop before he destroys himself.

Mrs. Kim sits down across from him on the other sofa. "Thank you. It was nice to be able to decorate my home the way I wanted."

Doyoung winces at her words. It is a simple phrase, but it embodies everything that forced her to leave him behind. "How have you been?"

"Well, I've missed you dearly." She gives a sad chuckle before continuing. "I've recently been promoted to the chief financial officer where I'm working. I've made friends, got my own home. But it's been lonely without you."

"I could say the same, you know." Obvious bitterness envelopes his entire voice. "You could have taken me with you." Doyoung finally looks up at his mother, only to find watery eyes watching him.

"You grew up just fine, Doyoung. You didn't need me."

"You're not the one to decide that!" he snaps.

"Your father gave you a better life than I could have ever had."

"What, just because he has more money? Just because he has a bigger house? And now, I'm stuck. I'm going to be just like him." His voice breaks, years of hurt slowly leaking out.

"Oh Doyoung, don't say that." She shakes her head. "You've come to see me. Your father never has. You're already so much different from him. I'm proud of you. And I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you."

Doyoung stares at the floor. "You still love him, don't you?"

"That's just his nature. If I didn't love him for how he is, then what was I with him for?" Mrs. Kim sighs and tries to smile.

The minutes of silence that pass feel like centuries. Doyoung finally breaks the silence. "Why did you leave?"

She sighs again. "It was suffocating, Doyoung. I'm not meant to be a trophy wife. I couldn't just sit there and look pretty while he did work. I wanted to help, but he never had the time for me. I couldn't stay there like that."

"But you left me in that same environment you hated."

Finally, a tear slips down her face. "But he needed you a lot more than I needed you."

Doyoung suddenly stands up, filled with rage and hurt. "And I needed you." He leaves the apartment, regretting ever coming. In his car, he straps on his seatbelt and is about to start the car when he stops and sighs.

He leans his forehead against the steering wheel, waiting for his mind to clear. His breathing is slightly heavy, but his mind feels airy as if he's running out of oxygen. After a few minutes, he breathes in and walks back to the apartment, opening the door and sitting back where he was just a while ago.

"I'm back," he says, trying to sound calm.

Mrs. Kim stares at him for a bit, her eyes filled with tears. Then, remarkably, she starts laughing. "Oh my goodness," she manages out. "I'm sorry for laughing, but you just came back like that." She laughs a bit more and wipes her tears. "I'm sorry, Doyoung. I really am the worst, aren't I," she says through a sad smile.

Doyoung bites his lips and decides to stop thinking. "No, you're not," he finally says. "I wish we could just start over again. From the very beginning," he says slowly. "I wish I had visited sooner."

"You're here now, and I'm incredibly grateful for that. I love you a lot, Doyoung. Your father and I both do. We're just not very good at doing what's right."

"It's okay," Doyoung breathes out. He's not sure if it really is or isn't, but saying it doesn't make him feel too bad, so he says it again. "It's okay. I'm here now."