Joo-young left the café and walked alongside her. Whenever they went on a date, he always walked her all the way home before turning back. It wasn't so much a matter of manners as the fact that he wanted to spend that much more time with her. He felt that this night, which remained as a precious memory, had to be preserved exactly as it was. Worried that any change might twist the future, he decided to reenact the twenty-year-old Joo-young he remembered from this night as closely as possible.
“May I hold your hand?”
He took her hand without waiting for permission. Her small hand fit neatly into his grasp. He continued with the next line he remembered.
“When I was little—I mean, before I even started kindergarten—my mom always took me with her when she went to the market. She probably didn't want to leave me home alone. It was a long way over a hill, but the whole time, Mom held my hand tight.”
She listened without saying a word. Her face might have turned a little red, but Joo-young kept walking with his eyes fixed straight ahead, just as the twenty-year-old Joo-young had done.
“But one day, she squeezed my hand really hard.”
Following the script, Joo-young squeezed her hand tightly too. She let out a small, cute whimper.
“When I told her it hurt, Mom said, ‘The harder I squeeze your hand, the more it means I love you.’”
The words he'd said that night came back to him with uncanny ease.
“After that, no matter how hard Mom squeezed my hand, I never said it hurt. Whenever she squeezed my hand and asked, ‘What does this mean?’ I'd grimace because it hurt, but I'd still say, ‘It means love.’”
Before he knew it, they had reached the front of her house, and Joo-young stood facing her with his back to the gate.
“I had a really great time today. Thanks to you.”
“No, I had fun too. Thanks for keeping your promise to go to the amusement park with me.”
“What are you thanking me for? Come on, let's go together again sometime.”
“Yes, let's.”
He knew they wouldn't be able to, but he answered as if they would. She held out her hand as though suggesting a handshake. When Joo-young took it, she even scrunched up her face and squeezed his hand.
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
It didn't hurt. There was no way it could. Instead of squeezing her hand as hard as he could, Joo-young slowly let go.
“If I squeezed your hand as hard as I could, noona, it would probably crumble.”
Having finished the reenactment exactly as he remembered it, Joo-young turned and started walking away. Had he looked back at least once that night? He couldn't remember clearly. But there was no way he could leave without looking back at least once. She was still standing in front of the door. She waved at him. Joo-young stopped and took in the sight as fully as he could.
‘This is the last time we'll see each other... I'm really glad I got to see you again.’
Snow flurries began to fall on the above-ground platform at Yeokgok Station. He had come all the way from the amusement park in Yongin to Yeokgok Station, where her house was, and now he was heading back to his own home in Geumho-dong. He really had gone all out for her, he thought. After that night, no more letters came from her, with a Christmas card as the last one. When they had first started exchanging letters, Joo-young had told her, “If I become a burden, don't reply. Then I won't send you any more letters either.” So Joo-young couldn't write to her anymore. She had already made it clear that he was a burden, and he couldn't bring himself to approach her. He spent roughly 17,520 hours nursing his feelings alone after that. Joo-young's first love, unrequited, came to an end like that. A train pulled into the platform.
On the subway heading to his home in Geumho-dong, Joo-young remained lost in thought. If he went back to the time when he and his wife were dating, would it really be possible to make them break up completely? They had loved each other so passionately back then. No matter what he did, it seemed unlikely that he could make his wife lose all affection for him. The Joo-young in his mid-twenties would be no different. Even if he went back and forced them to break up, once twelve hours passed and things returned to their original state, he was sure he'd fling open his arms and run straight back to his wife. He even considered leaving a note for his early-thirties self, as he had before, but that time there had been witnesses and a notarized agreement as physical evidence. This time, he had nothing. It seemed unlikely that his younger self would trust a single note and break up with his wife. The more he thought about it, the more impossible it seemed to return to the time when he and his wife were dating and make the two lovers break up. He needed another alternative, some kind of clever solution.
The subway was gradually approaching Geumho Station. Thinking about going to his old house in Geumho-dong to see his parents, who were still alive, stirred up a strange emotion in him. His parents, his parents... His kind father, his tough-as-nails mother... As he thought about them, he felt as though a good solution might come to him.