“I called Mom so many times…… Why wasn’t she picking up?”
I forced down the lump of emotion threatening to rise and barely managed to continue.
“I was worried — I thought something had happened to you.”
“You called? I didn’t know.”
Mom replied breezily, only then checking her phone, and a hollow laugh escaped me on its own. Then, from behind her, a familiar face appeared unexpectedly.
A face with noticeably more wrinkles than the last time I’d seen it. But still undeniably handsome — and at the same time, looking very much like me. A middle-aged man. I lowered my head when our eyes met.
“……Hello.”
“It’s Yun-su. It’s been a while.”
He was my biological father. After divorcing Mom, he’d quickly remarried someone else and even had a daughter, so we barely had any contact.
Because of that, I naturally found myself looking between the two of them with puzzled eyes. I’d thought Mom and Dad had stopped keeping in touch after the divorce — I never imagined the two of them would be meeting up.
“But Yun-su, what brings you here? You didn’t even show your face at Ji-hyeon’s art exhibition — said you were too busy.”
“……What?”
“Your father was hurt by that. Ji-hyeon is your little sister too — why are you being so cold toward her?”
Ji-hyeon was the name of the daughter my father had with the woman he remarried. I’d only learned her name not that long ago, that’s how little contact we had — there was no way I would’ve gone to her exhibition out of nowhere.
It also didn’t make sense to me that Mom was mentioning her so warmly, as if she were her own daughter. I couldn’t help but think of how Mom used to always start with resentment toward that girl and her mother and end by pouring out her rage at Dad.
But it wasn’t something to bring up in front of Dad, so I quietly changed the subject.
“……Today is Mom’s birthday, so we agreed to have a meal together. That’s why I came.”
“Oh, was that today?”
Mom looked momentarily flustered, as if she’d completely forgotten about our plans to eat together, and then glanced over at Dad to gauge his reaction.
She wrongs me and then looks to Dad for his reaction — why? A flash of heat rose in my chest, but instead of saying anything, I swallowed the lump climbing up my throat. Whatever I said right now would only come across as picking a fight.
I let out a quiet sigh and absently checked the time. The reservation time had long since passed. I asked, still holding onto a faint hope.
“Have you had dinner yet?”
“Oh honestly, look at the time. Of course I have.”
Mom said that, then smiled brightly. She went on proudly about how Dad had taken her to a lovely restaurant for her birthday. I listened in silence and only nodded.
I see.
“But what are all those bags?”
At Mom’s words, I finally stood the shopping bags up and straightened out the mess they’d made, sprawled across the living room floor. Evidence of how I’d come rushing in, afraid something had happened to her.
“It’s your birthday, so I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”
I held out the shopping bags — the ones containing the wallet, scarf, necklace, and other items I’d picked out with Cha Jae-woo’s help. The carefully chosen bouquet of flowers was included as well.
“How pretty.”
But Mom didn’t even glance at the gifts I’d brought. Far from opening them right away, she didn’t even look their way. She gave the bouquet only a cursory glance before setting it on the dining table.
“Thank you, son.”
Maybe because Dad was there — she said the words, but the only thing in her eyes was a cold that could freeze you to the bone.
The moment I met those eyes, my breath caught in my throat.
“You came all this way — should I get you some fruit?”
Her voice was warm, at complete odds with her glacial gaze. But I knew. That warmth wasn’t for me — it was for Dad to hear. So I shook my head.
“No, it’s fine. It’s getting late anyway, I’ll head out.”
“Okay? Then do that. Thank you for the gifts — let’s see each other again soon.”
“Be careful on the way home. Don’t forget to take care of yourself even when you’re busy.”
“Yes. I will.”
I left the house, Dad’s parting words behind me — whether they were sincere or just something to say, I couldn’t tell.
I had no memory of how I drove home. It was a miracle I hadn’t gotten into an accident.
That was how spent I was. It wasn’t until I arrived home that I noticed the missed calls on my phone.
Cha Jae-woo.
Thirty missed calls from his name.
Instead of calling back, I punched in the door code and walked inside. Cha Jae-woo, who had been sitting on the living room sofa, shot to his feet and walked over quickly.
“Hey, I heard you never made it to the restaurant.”
“Jae-woo.”
He was the one who had contacted an acquaintance to secure a weekend reservation at a restaurant notoriously difficult to get into.
I knew I owed him an explanation. My head understood that clearly — but right now, for some reason, I was just too exhausted.
I’d been rushing around since morning without eating a proper meal, and knowing that all of it had been for nothing left me feeling both absurd and utterly defeated.
“Sorry, I’m going to sleep. Let’s talk tomorrow.”
So I gave his shoulder a light pat, then collapsed onto the bed. I didn’t have the energy to so much as lift a finger — I closed my eyes quietly and fell asleep like a blown fuse.
* * *
From the day she divorced Dad, Mom began to change — like a plant slowly withering.
The eyes that had always been bright and full of life went dull, and the skin that had once been white and dewy dried out like tree bark.
I made a vow to myself — that even if I couldn’t make Mom smile, I at least wouldn’t make her cry.
So even on the day rain poured without warning like a downpour, I ran home alone with my school bag held over my head.
The other kids had moms or dads who would come with umbrellas, but I had no one — so doing it myself was simply a given.
That remained true as time passed and I became a high schooler, and still after I met Cha Jae-woo. On rainy days, there was no adult in my life who would come to pick me up with an umbrella.
But Cha Jae-woo was different.
Cha Jae-woo’s parents were always busy, so they couldn’t come in person with an umbrella. But in their place, they always sent the driver to make sure Cha Jae-woo got to and from school safely.
There was no adult in Cha Jae-woo’s life to shield him with an umbrella on a sudden rainy day — but he had parents who worried about him getting wet. I was so envious of that.
More than the fear of getting soaked in the rain, the fact that there was not a single adult in this world looking out for me felt wretchedly sad and lonely.
That day too, I stood staring blankly up at the sky as the rain turned to a downpour, wondering how I was going to get home.
It would’ve been nice if the weather forecast had been more accurate, but the sudden, unpredictable deluge today made things even harder.
I really need to just start keeping an umbrella in my bag at all times, rain or shine.
“What are you doing — aren’t you leaving?”
“……I should.”
It must have been the first rainy day after Cha Jae-woo and I had agreed to start hanging out together. I’d naturally assumed he’d be going home in the driver’s car again that day.
I hadn’t paid attention before, so I hadn’t noticed — but Cha Jae-woo was someone at our school who drew about as much attention as Kwon Tae-gyeong. Between the driver who came to pick him up on rainy days and his pretty face and tall frame, it would’ve been stranger if he didn’t stand out.
Though Cha Jae-woo himself didn’t seem to welcome that kind of attention.
“Your driver comes to pick you up, right? I’m so jealous.”
I don’t even have an umbrella. I swallowed the words I couldn’t bring myself to say out loud. I didn’t want to come across as begging him to give me a ride.
Looking back now, I wonder why asking can’t you give me a lift too was such a big deal — but a high schooler’s pride has a way of breaking and shattering over exactly those kinds of small things.
More than anything, back then, I didn’t want to willingly expose what was essentially one of my deficiencies in front of a friend I’d only just grown close to.
“Have a safe trip — see you tomorrow.”
“Hey.”
So I was about to sling my bag over my head and start running when Cha Jae-woo grabbed my wrist.
“What kind of nonsense. The driver’s not coming. I told him not to a while ago.”
Cha Jae-woo furrowed his brow with a look full of displeasure, then opened the umbrella he was holding. He raised it upward as if to say, get under here.
When I just stood there silently staring, Cha Jae-woo ran a hand through his own hair.
“……You’re the one who said we should hang out together.”
I didn’t quite understand what he meant, and blinked for a moment. So he chose to walk instead of taking the car — because of me?
My gaze drifted unthinkingly out past the edge of the umbrella. Thunder was rumbling and the rain was pouring down, and I couldn’t make sense of what Cha Jae-woo had said about telling the driver not to come.
Even so, I ventured a question, just in case.
“Are you sure that’s okay? It’s raining so hard.”
“And if it’s not okay, then what. I still need to get introduced to Kwon Tae-gyeong.”
Cha Jae-woo said it in a grumbling sort of way. Then, as if he’d run out of patience, he grabbed me and pulled me under the umbrella.
The umbrella Cha Jae-woo had brought was too small for two people.
“Damn, we’re completely soaked.”
He grumbled but tilted the umbrella toward my side. When I noticed and turned to look at him, I got an earful — stop looking around and watch where you’re going.
I swallowed my laughter and kept walking.
The relentless downpour had already soaked my shoulder and bag beyond saving. My sneakers were waterlogged too, which meant my socks had probably gotten completely drenched.
It should have felt gross and annoying — yet I kept smiling without meaning to.
Because it felt like, on a rainy day, I finally had someone who would hold an umbrella over me too. And that made me so, so happy.
Looking back, I think that was one of the moments I fell in love with Cha Jae-woo.
