Kim Tae-hyung, who is now 29 years old, went on a trip alone.
travel
Taehyung stared blankly at the taxi license plate as it faded out, clutching his suitcase in one hand. It was mid-August. By then, peak season was over, so the airport was a bit crowded, but not overflowing with people. My brand-new bag, barely a year old, dragged along the floor with my steps. Despite the trip barely taking a company vacation, I felt like I was about to die. This story had only begun three days ago. Taehyung had a girlfriend of five years. Click. The tire stuck in the cracked floor came to a stop, and my gaze naturally wandered into the air.
"Do whatever you want. I don't care if you don't get steamed to death."
"Really? You're not going to change your mind later, are you?"
"Could that be?"
"Hey, Kim Taehyung!"
After bickering over trivial topics, they finally settled on France. The process of selecting the destination was quite haphazard, but it wasn't a completely meaningless destination for the two of them. Yeoju, who graduated from the Department of Western Painting solely out of curiosity, had always dreamed of visiting the Louvre at least once in her life. Taehyung, knowing this, didn't bother to vote against it, but no matter how hot, dry, or freezing cold the place Yeoju chose, he would close his eyes and agree to any place he could walk. It was their fifth anniversary trip together, and Yeoju's first trip abroad. The time they had shared eye contact, lovingly listening to her plan, filling 24 hours with all she wanted to see and do, felt strangely familiar, as if it had never happened. Their pupils, lost in thought, had long since lost their luster.
"It's 10 o'clock..."
There are two passports in his hands. There is only one person. In this paradoxical situation, that one appears on the screen, and he stares at the flickering red letters. Then, for a moment, his vision blurs, and Taehyung has to borrow my sleeve for a moment. Beyond this series of actions, he shows no signs of anything, so others simply pass him by indifferently. But, that's not the case. It's not that I'm indifferent. I really... Hiding his complex, almost tangled mind, Taehyung climbs the stairs he's built solely for others, alone, without a single utterance of regret.
"We're leaving soon."
Because he really wanted to die.
The midsummer Parisian sun felt like it was burning my skin. He rubbed his bare arms, not even applying sunscreen. Although the humidity was less than in Seoul, the constant sting of the UV rays made Taehyung unconsciously close his eyes. Summer was stinging. He checked in at the hotel, roughly running his oily, dull hair back. Perhaps it was a reward for his school days, when he had mastered English, as the conversation flowed smoothly. If Yeoju had been by his side, Taehyung would have been flattered all day by her signature compliments.
"··· ah."
As I walked down the hallway, stepping on the European carpet that clung to my toes, I dropped my wallet. Thud. The leather lump, which had been falling limply, opened its mouth as soon as it hit the floor. A single, small photograph, fit effortlessly. My, my beloved, living and breathing inside. This is where you so desperately wanted to come. I swallowed hard and finally shoved my wallet back into my pocket.
Taehyung didn't blindly believe in love. He wasn't one to deny that relationships had an end. Even before meeting Yeoju, he'd witnessed countless others' paths. Some were so desperately longing to be reunited, but even for such feelings, time proved a powerful healer. Perhaps it was the same. If this breakup had been like that, Taehyung might have learned to numb slowly, day by day, as he always did. But he couldn't. And it wasn't just because Yeoju was special to him.
Because it was so sudden.
If that was the reason, then it was the reason. Yeoju Lee died three months before our planned trip. It's bright... the lights. Taehyung, who had been mumbling something, scanned the ceiling of the dorm with a blank expression. The chandelier dangled precariously, as if it might snap at any moment. The image reflected on the dark television screen sagged. His hands gripped the sheets tightly. He leaned his shoulder against the headboard, and a strange tingling sensation in the back of his neck made him lower his eyelids. He had finally managed to block out his vision, but tears threatened to burst out. He bit his lip to keep the emotions he'd been holding back from flooding back.
"......"
Even though the blood was flowing freely, Taehyung couldn't find a way to stop it.
I couldn't overcome my incompetence.
The day of the accident was damned good. More than good, it was just so-so, ordinary. It was such an ordinary day that Taehyung didn't make any mistakes at work and even earned praise from his boss, who usually tormented him to death. He didn't even smoke after dinner. It was because he hadn't had a single day to feel his heart burn. Actually, it was more because he remembered someone telling him to quit smoking, saying it was bad for his health. A single message on the monitor in the evening, "When are you coming? I miss you," tickled a corner of his heart. He'd squeeze through the crowded subway on his way home from work, open the front door, and there was his one and only lover in the world, and a small kiss instead of a greeting was enough for them to love each other. That was all he needed.
An exceptionally good day. On that day.
Taehyung, who had just finished putting on his bag, reached out to his desk and answered the ringing call. The caller was someone he knew very well: Yeoju's mother. He was a little nervous, but his expression brightened. "Hello?" The other person remained silent, so he assumed there was a problem with the line. A few seconds of silence followed. And then...
"...yes?"
As soon as I heard those few words, my head suddenly started pounding. I left the office and caught a taxi. Inside, Taehyung was half-asleep. He didn't even cry. It was as if some part of his emotional system had malfunctioned.
A car accident. They arrived at a hospital near their company. Yeoju would sometimes come to pick Taehyung up herself. He could have come empty-handed, but he always had a tendency to come with something packed in both hands, and every time he saw him, he had a hard time suppressing the laughter that escaped his lips. The day of the accident was no different. In the hospital hallway, Yeoju's mother placed a bakery bag in Taehyung's trembling, bloodless hand. The outside was stained with dark red marks, and the inside was soiled with crumbled pieces of bread. He couldn't take his eyes off the floor. He couldn't dare meet the person in front of him.
The pure white walls. The pulsating smell of medicine. The urgent voices of the medical staff occasionally leaking through the cracks in the door. Every element of that moment seemed to exist to strangle Taehyung's breath. Her mother had said, "Because of you, because of you, Yeoju is like this..." Taehyung remembered his stiff knees giving out and collapsing in the hallway. He hadn't been in his right mind at that moment, and it felt like everything was his fault, just as she had said. No, that was right. The moment he was certain, a terrible chill flowed through his parched lips. His throat scraped fiercely, making a metallic sound.
""Lady......""
To Taehyung, that day felt like a dream, a desperate urge to break free from the reality that surrounded him. Bruises still etched on his knees, which he had clenched tightly. There was still so much he had left to say. The whirring noise of the machines clattered through his mind. The future he had always envisioned had easily crumbled into nothing today, and the journey that remained—the new beginning at the end of that journey—was trampled underfoot before it could even sprout. The lights in the hospital hallway flickered out of sight. The light drifting through the tears welling up in his eyes only spread. He wanted to do anything, but now he couldn't do anything.
A chillingly ordinary day. On that day, Taehyung's world was locked without him even being able to scream in pain.
The next day was Lee Yeo-ju's funeral.
Their first night in Paris was deep. Taehyung's physical condition was in shambles, having diligently completed his planned itinerary. The Champ de Mars park, which they visited in the afternoon, offered a clear view of the Eiffel Tower. Yeoju, who loved photography as much as art, insisted it was the perfect spot for taking photos, and she wandered around the house, her laptop with a search bar open. If Taehyung, who was sitting on the sofa eating a snack, hadn't stopped her, she would have definitely destroyed something. She traded her whining mouth for a single spicy chicken snack.
""I'm so sorry.""
"Eat and talk, Chilchil-ah."
"Yeah, Kim Taehyung."
""huh.""
""you...""
Where are you going these days? This weekend? At that, Taehyung's eyes blinked even more slowly. His pupils trembled ever so slightly. It was a reaction usually reserved for surprise. Eventually, his short-clad legs began to awkwardly bend and straighten on the sofa, enough for even the blunt-faced heroine to notice. Taehyung, who had turned his head slightly, cupped her face with both hands.
""...ah.""
"Oh my."
「"..."」
"Aren't you going to say anything?"
Despite all the sabotage, Taehyung remained silent. It was a secret not even his family, not even anyone in this world, should know. Especially not the puffy-faced Yeoju before him. Seeing that Yeoju wouldn't confess the truth despite his cute threats, he finally gave up, his lips curling into a grimace. Taehyung sighed in relief, watching her retreating figure. How could he possibly explain it...
"...I almost got caught."
I'm preparing for our tomorrow. As I do, I fiddle with the custom-made ring case in my pocket. Thinking back now, it's something I'll probably regret. Would it have been better to give it to him then? Then it wouldn't have been so hard. Now, it feels like it's too late. The proposal, the expression of affection. You, me. Everything. The words "I love you" that I repeated until my mouth hurt, but now they feel inadequate. My daily life, where I loved and loved fiercely, has cracked, and Taehyung can't tell whether he's living for today or dying in regret. The gears that once meshed together have long since gathered dust.
Taehyung rose from his chair and stumbled to the veranda, gazing down at the nightscape of Paris. The enchanting scene, the gentle rustling of summer breezes gently drifting into his ears. For some reason, the suffocating wind made him lean against the railing, his throat constantly groaning. Staring at the wine-colored ring case in his hand, Taehyung briefly considered throwing it away.
Jjalgrak-
My body. I just wanted to fall endlessly into the romance that Yeoju had longed for. Because that was the most fitting ending. Because I... should have died with you.
"...Good night, my lady."
The reason I stopped thinking about it was because Paris was so beautiful.
On the second day, the heroine set foot in the Louvre, the museum she'd longed for. Taehyung, by nature blunt and uninspired, didn't have much of a sense of appreciation for the artwork, but he scanned each one, memorizing them in his head. Among them, a painting seemed familiar. It was the original of a reproduction that the heroine had previously submitted for an assignment: Mount Vesuvius. Upon closer inspection, unlike the original, which had a gloomy feel, hers had vibrant green hues, which Taehyung quite liked. He'd been quite proud of it. Should I have praised it more? As he gazed blankly, the skin under his eyes began to feel numb. Taehyung took a step back and scanned his eyes.
"ah..."
...Why again. So petty, so stupid, so foolish. Taehyung blamed himself. He whipped himself endlessly. He couldn't hold on any longer. Yeoju Lee said that the most hated person in the world was a person who was always feeling down. She told him to just let what's already happened go by. Not to try to hold on to it. Taehyung tried every trick he could to appear cool in front of her, but in the end, he couldn't let go of his true nature. Kim Taehyung was a very miserable guy. He couldn't easily forget anything that set him off. Later, it always lingered as a bitter taste, and he was the type of person whose heart would race at the slightest slip of the tongue. That's why this trip was doomed from the start.
"What the hell am I supposed to do..."
I'd come here to shake off the things I'd been holding onto, but wherever I went, trauma came flooding back, engulfing my entire body. The worst of the worst. I thought I'd forgotten a little, but it was all an illusion. Kim Taehyung sat down in a corner of the art gallery. Everyone around him was staring, but he didn't have the presence of mind to care about what others thought. He buried his face in his knees. It felt like if he looked up at any moment, the female lead would be there. She'd approach him with a mischievous smile, ask if he was okay, and hold his hands tightly to help him up. Then, without a hint of resistance, Taehyung would immediately fall into her arms and burst into tears.
I really don't feel okay at all. I miss you. I just... shouldn't I have gone with you then?
After Yeoju's incident, Taehyung lived a life of despondency. Even the acquaintances who occasionally visited, worried, would repeatedly turn back, facing the locked front door. After quitting the company he'd worked so hard to build, and the day by day, he was sinking into depression, the trigger for his decision to travel was the calendar taped to his room wall. A red pen mark circled August 17th. Yeoju had been excitedly planning his upcoming trip for months, even though there was still plenty of time left. So he went. There's nothing more meaningless than following the footsteps of someone who's gone, yet Taehyung volunteered to do it. He couldn't think of any other way. Yeoju's absence had made him that way.
The Parisian night had become distant. Taehyung took out the notebook where Yeoju had written down her detailed itinerary and bought the wine listed at the end. He wasn't a big fan of alcohol, so he didn't know much about the types or flavors, but he bought it anyway. He dragged his tired body into the room and placed the wine on the round table in the center. When he uncorked it, a spicy aroma wafted out. Taehyung placed the ring case next to it. The straight case, which had opened for the first time, revealed a newly diamond-set ring, shining brightly. The light in the center was so dazzling that Taehyung almost forgot he was traveling alone. He turned his head to the window. The faint moonlight seeped in, creeping across the floor.
"...Lee Yeo-ju, you did it."
They thought we'd never really fit together. Even before marriage, we'd bicker over such trivial things, so what would happen after we got married? It was true. Yeo-ju was outgoing, while Tae-hyung was calm, if not listless. It was exhausting and exhausting for him to keep up with her plans for weekend dates. Their tastes and preferences were all different, and it was safe to say they were all different. Despite that, they dated for five years. They liked each other no matter what. Kim Tae-hyung liked Lee Yeo-ju. He knew we'd be terribly incompatible after marriage, but he always said, "I just have to accommodate you."
"We're really going to get along, heroine."
"Even if it doesn't fit, I'll... I'll like it all."
"Let's go to the amusement park we talked about before, the cafe you mentioned, the movie theater in front of my house. Anywhere we want to go. Let's go."
His hand trembled as he took the ring out of its case. The diamond hung on the tip of his gently trembling knuckles. I'm such a... unattractive person, but I didn't want to propose like that either. I had a pretty ring and a beautiful night view laid out for me. Taehyung slowly grasped the ring. He tried hard, but he couldn't hold it back anymore. His cheeks were soaking wet without a second thought. Taehyung had simulated countless situations in Paris, France, to keep himself from crying, but the results were miserable failures. The tear ducts he'd thought were dry suddenly burst open.
"My lady. I...-"
I stood up, turning my back on the table. I walked toward the window. Pushing back the curtains, he gazed at the ring resting on my hand.
"I really wanted to say this."
"I really... am not good at speaking, so I can't say anything really touching."
"...."
"Still. I really wanted to say this."
Tonight, the ring that should have been worn by you, whom I love so much. This ring without a destination. This yearning confession. This vague love.
"love you."
He broke down in tears. I, I love you so much. There hasn't been a single day in five years where I haven't loved you. I've always been like that, really. He leans weakly against the railing and collapses. Taehyung still isn't immune to breakups, no matter how many times he's been through them. That's why he's always hesitated to meet you at every moment of his life, but this time was different. He wants to see you. He wants to touch you. No, just say something. I wish I could say just one more word. He waited more earnestly than ever for that meeting. If there's just one chance, at your end, to tell you I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you. I'll gladly endure it. No matter how excruciating the pain.
Taehyung lifted his head from where he'd been buried. He met Yeoju's gaze, who wasn't there. It was to tie the knot of this trip.
"So, heroine."
"therefore..."
Among the things I couldn't say until now,
"Will you marry me?"
The biggest words.