AAE -- Twists of Fate

Part 1 -- Chapter 28

by LoveCR2

edited by All-About-AAE

 

 

Headlights sweep over the white wrought-iron fence as the dark gray BMW approaches Gwi-Sung and Sun-Mi's home. Hyung-Chul slows the car to a gradual stop, cuts the engine, and turns to look at his passenger.

 

Young-Mi is asleep in the seat, slumped to one side, eyes closed, her head resting against the leather headrest. Her breathing is deep and slow. He reaches over and lightly grips her shoulder, gently shaking her.

 

"Young-Mi?" he calls softly. "We're here."

 

She doesn't stir.

 

He smiles slightly. "So much for being able to hold your liquor," he chides mildly.

 

With a quiet sigh, Hyung-Chul gets out of the car. His footsteps echo in the quiet as he walks to the gate. He pushes it back with a creak of hinges and steps through. Crossing the concrete parking pavers, he climbs the rough limestone steps leading up to the front porch.

 

 

Inside the dark car, Young-Mi's eyes snap open.

 

She lifts her head to watch Hyung-Chul search the hanging ceramic pot on the porch for the key she told him was hidden there. He unlocks the door and disappears inside the house. Seconds later, the downstairs lights come on, then a dim glow upstairs from the stairway sconces. He reappears, leaving the door ajar, and heads back toward the car. Young-Mi quickly returns to her slack posture and closes her eyes.

 

 

Hyung-Chul opens the passenger door. He reaches across her lap for her Fendi bag and hangs it over his shoulder. Carefully wedging one arm behind her back and the other under her knees, he easily lifts her out of the car. Young-Mi rests completely limp in his arms, her head lolling against his chest.

 

He shoves the car door shut and carries her into the house. A kick with his foot closes the front door. Pausing in the narrow vestibule, he glances down at the slippers by the inner door, but steps past without exchanging his shoes. Inside, he heads for the stairway up to Sun-Mi's bedroom suite.

 

At the top of the steps, he halts to catch his breath and orient himself. To his right, a door opens into a tiled bathroom. To his left, a sitting area is large enough for a loveseat and chair arranged around a small glass-topped table. Beyond that is the open door to the bedroom, illuminated by pale silver light from a ceiling skylight.

 

He goes left and walks through the doorway, bumping the light switch with his arm.

 

Table lamps on the painted wood bed stands come on, flooding the room with a golden glow. On the wall above the painted white headboard, a large framed photograph of Sun-Mi at the news desk looks directly at him with a vibrant, confident smile.

 

Moving to the bed, Hyung-Chul gently lowers Young-Mi onto the mattress. He steps back. Her coral Chanel suit is luminous against the muted gray and white striped sheet. She lies still, arms at her sides, the only movement her chest rising and falling slightly with each breath. His gaze, caught by her sleek black stilettos, slides along her stockinged legs up to the skirt bunched around her thighs, lingering on the exposed elastic lace bands of the sheer nylon holdups.

 

He tears his eyes away, shifting his thoughts to Sun-Mi.

 

Curious about her things, he surveys the bedroom for the first time. The room is decorated with small framed paintings of flowers on the walls. Dried flower arrangements and Sun-Mi's collection of music box dolls sit on the furnishings.

 

Past the bed, against the wall on his left, a small combined television and VCR sits atop a low dresser matching the color of the bed frame. At the foot of the bed, a built-in wardrobe stands next to the door he entered.

 

Hyung-Chul slips Young-Mi's bag off his shoulder and places it on the closest bed stand. He walks to the wardrobe and opens the doors. Inside, he recognizes many of the clothes arranged on the hanging rods. Closing the doors, he turns to the other half of the room, separated by stub walls on either side.

 

Two large curtained windows occupy one corner, with a full-length mirror mounted on the wall between them. In the other corner are Sun-Mi's writing desk and a tall bookshelf holding an assortment of books and empty flower vases. He pulls out a novel and opens it in the middle. In the margins he sees notations written in her hand. A side table next to the desk holds jewelry boxes and a stack of books. He lifts the cover of one box and sees the four-leaf clover brooch he had given to her for good luck on her MBS entry exams.

 

He returns to the bed and sits, facing her feet. Lifting one foot, he grasps the heel cup and long, pencil-thin spike to pull off the pointed-toe pump, then removes the other. He sets the shoes together on the hardwood floor. A duvet is folded at the foot of the bed. He rises and, stepping back, pulls the duvet over Young-Mi, tucking the end around her neck.

 

Straightening, his eyes move up to the nearly life-sized photograph on the wall.

 

"Sun-Mi," he whispers. "I want to believe that you're still alive, somewhere. That you don't love Kim Woo-Jin more than me, and that someday you'll come back, so that we can finally be together. But it's been hard -- really hard -- to hold onto that hope. And now, I feel my heart wavering."

 

He stops and wipes away the tears welling in his eyes before they fall.

 

"Honestly, I never thought it could happen. That I would ever look at anyone but you, and feel stirrings inside. But every day, you're becoming fainter to me."

 

He glances down at Young-Mi, then up again at the photograph.

 

"I'll always love you, Sun-Mi. And I hope you can forgive me, if someday I love someone else more."

 

Turning away from the photograph, Hyung-Chul stands over Young-Mi. Staring down at her, his eyes are drawn to her glossed, slightly parted lips and the long dark lashes brushing her cheeks. Leaning closer, he gently moves a lock of hair from her forehead.

 

"Good night, Young-Mi," he murmurs. "Sweet dreams."

 

He walks to the bedroom doorway, extinguishes the lights, and closes the door. His footsteps tread softly down the stairs. The front door clicks.

 

 

Young-Mi sits up, throwing the duvet aside as she gets out of bed. She hurries to the window, her stockinged feet padding on the hardwood, and looks out through the sheer curtains. Below, Hyung-Chul crosses the yard, moving slowly. At the gate, he stops and looks up at the bedroom window. Hidden by the sheers, she watches him.

 

He takes two steps back toward the house, but reconsiders and gets into his car. The engine rumbles to life, and the headlights come on. The BMW backs out, then drives away.

 

She turns to the mirror, smoothing her wrinkled skirt and blazer as she studies her reflection in the dim light. Stepping back to the bed, she folds her arms as she faces Sun-Mi's photograph.

 

"So, Jin Sun-Mi, what do you have to say now? I have your anchor chair, your public acclaim -- I own your dream. And now, I've taken your bed. You heard Hyung-Chul -- soon I'll have his heart, too."

 

A twisted smile cuts across her lips. "Before I'm finished, I'll take away everything you ever had. And there's nothing you can do to stop me."