Not Just A Memory | Ko Kyung-jun

Twelve.

“With you, I’ve never once thought, ‘It’s fine if it ends.’ Don’t let it end. I don’t want it to end. Never, absolutely never.” 

As I poured out my feelings, she hugged me gently. 

I flinched slightly, loosening the kiss to see her face clearly. 

“Kyung-jun… Do you know what I wished for?” 

“…If it’s a wish about me, I’ll listen.” 

She held me close, breathing quickly, and whispered in my ear, 

“Stay with me tonight.” 

“We’re both adults now, right?” 

“…Yeah. That’s right.” 

Her voice, her touch—everything echoed in my mind. 

“Hold me tight. If you can, never let go.” 

As if it were a signal, I pushed her down onto the bed. 

.

“…I fell asleep.” 

My first day back at work. 

I dragged myself onto the train, my body aching, joints cracking. 

The night before my three-day break, Kyung-jun found me and we went home together. Seeing Kyung cry for the first time caught me off guard, so I pulled him into my room. 

Even though we were exes, neither of us could let go. I let myself drown in that sweet flow, then spent the next day in utter laziness. 

But after being spoiled enough to make up for seven years of loneliness, my mind and body had fully recovered. 

My heart felt at ease, filled with comfort. It was bliss. 

Since Kyung-jun only had two days off, he went back to Busan. Because he looked so reluctant, I impulsively promised to meet again during the next break. 

But the way Kyung-jun looked at that moment was so cute that I didn’t regret it at all. 

“…Oh right, I think I still have some notes to finish…” 

At the office, just as I expected, my coworkers’ eyes were all on me, sending chills down my spine. 

“…Sorry for leaving early last time—” 

“Hey, hey, spill it! What happened between you and that handsome guy?” 

From the older employees to the younger ones, everyone crowded around me with eager eyes. Just as I thought, 'I’m not good at this', Geum-sul looked at me cheerfully. 

“You look great. Did you enjoy your three-day break?” 

“It was alright.” 

“Your neck, though.” 

“Huh?” 

I panicked and covered my neck with both hands. Geum-sul laughed so hard, he nearly dropped his coffee cup. 

“Way too obvious…” 

“Geum-sul!!” 

Kyung-jun!!! Did you have to leave marks like this!? 

Avoiding their questions as much as possible, by noon, I got a message. 

“Ah…” 

It was from Ko Kyung-jun’s father. 

I opened KakaoTalk—he informed me that it had been nearly seven years since my father disappeared. The court would soon issue a missing person declaration, effectively recognizing him as deceased.