The building rose in front of me like a stranger pretending to be familiar, glass and steel stretching into a pale morning sky, too clean, too quiet. I stood there for a moment longer than necessary, tools heavy in my hands, heart heavier in my chest.
Then I knocked.
The door opened to the soft creak of hinges and the smell of polished floors. A woman in a simple uniform stood there, her hair neatly tied back. Beside her was a small boy, no more than five or six, clutching the edge of her dress like an anchor.
"Are you the plumber?" she asked, her voice practical, already moving past me in her mind.
"Yes," I said, nodding. "Good morning."
She stepped aside to let me in, and the boy stared at me with wide, curious eyes, as if I were a visitor from another world.
The maid guided me toward the kitchen, explaining the issue with the sink, something about pressure, something about noise. I listened, nodded, set my bag down.
I was halfway through loosening a pipe when I heard it.
Footsteps.
Not rushed. Not hesitant. Familiar.
And then her voice, soft, steady, unmistakable.
"Is the plumber here?"
My hands froze. The wrench slipped slightly in my grip.
"Yes, ma'am," the maid answered. "He's in the kitchen."
Another voice joined hers, lower, warm, casual in the way people sound when they belong somewhere.
"Is breakfast ready?" the man asked.
"Yes," the maid replied. "I've arranged everything on the dining table."
"Okay."
I lifted my head slowly, like the movement itself might shatter something fragile inside me.
And there she was.
Ha Yoon.
Standing at the entrance of the kitchen, her hair pulled back loosely, her face softer than I remembered and somehow sharper at the same time. Beside her stood Hae Min, one hand resting lightly on the shoulder of the small boy between them.
The world tilted. Not dramatically, just enough to make it impossible to stand straight.
"Seon… woo."
My name broke when it left her mouth. It cracked, splintered, fell between us like something dropped by accident.
"Ha Yoon," I replied, forcing my voice into calmness it didn't deserve.
"Oh....Seon woo," Hae Min said, smiling in a way that was kind and unguarded. "It's been a long time."
I nodded, my throat suddenly too tight for words.
My eyes betrayed me before I could stop them. They drifted past their faces to the wall behind them, where a framed photograph hung.
Their wedding photo.
They stood close, smiling, dressed in white and light and certainty. The kind of certainty I used to believe in. The kind I used to imagine.
I stared at it for a second too long. Then I looked back at them.
The irony was almost cruel enough to laugh at, almost.
"Please," Hae Min said gently, as if sensing the tension I was pretending didn't exist. "Join us for breakfast."
"Thank you," I replied, pasting on a smile that didn't reach my eyes. "But I'm full."
It was a lie. But it was the kind that kept people comfortable.
"This is your uncle," Hae Min said, turning to the boy. "Seon woo."
I walked over and crouched down, lowering myself to the child's height.
"Hey, buddy," I said softly.
He studied me for a moment, then smiled, small, cautious. "Hi. I'm Ye Joon."
"That's a good name," I told him. "Nice to meet you."
Ha Yoon hadn't said a word. She just stood there, hands clasped in front of her, eyes flickering between my face and the floor like she was afraid of what she might see if she looked too long.
I finished my work quickly after that. Too quickly. My hands moved on instinct, muscle memory doing what my heart could not. When I stepped outside into the front yard, the air felt colder, sharper.
I almost made it to the gate.
"Seon woo."
I turned.
She stood a few steps behind me, arms wrapped loosely around herself, as if bracing against something invisible.
"Uh… how have you been?" she asked, unsure, like the question itself might hurt.
"Good," I said.
It was the easiest lie I'd told all day.
There was a pause. A long one.
"So," I added, forcing a small laugh that sounded wrong even to my own ears, "you guys are together?"
She didn't answer right away.
"Should I even care?" I said, still smiling.
And yes, I cared. God, I cared so much it felt like my chest was splitting open. Like something inside me was screaming while my mouth stayed calm.
She looked away.
"Are you happy?" I asked quietly. "With the life you chose?"
She swallowed. Still no answer.
Then she looked at me, really looked at me, and the walls she'd built cracked just enough for the truth to slip through.
"Do you really think I left because I stopped caring?" she said. Her voice trembled, but she didn't look away this time. "That I was looking for excuses to go?"
She paused, breathing uneven. "Even after everything… I don't love you any less."
The words landed like a slow, deliberate wound.
"Then," I asked, even though I already knew the answer, "am I still the number one boy in your eyes?"
Silence.
I nodded, accepting what she couldn't say.
"You're still everything I want, Ha Yoon," I said. "And that's the part I don't know how to survive."
She laughed softly, broken. "I ruined every version of myself trying to become calm. Trying to be okay." Her voice dropped. "But you… you shattered every wall I built the moment you came back into my life."
My hand trembled violently. I shoved it into my jacket pocket before she could see.
"And I will always love you," I said, my voice barely steady. "As long as I live."
Then I turned away.
Because if I looked back, I wouldn't leave.
And if I didn't leave, I would break.
She closed her bedroom door and collapsed against it, sliding down until she was sitting on the floor, breath shaking, hands covering her mouth as the sobs finally escaped.
On the other side of the door, Hae Min stood still.
"Was I ever really married?" he asked quietly, to no one in particular.
Flash back: high school years
Seon-woo didn't know when he started recording everything.
At first, it was accidental. A button pressed too early. A camera left on too long. But somewhere between ordinary days and unforgettable ones, he began to understand something instinctively,
Some moments didn't announce themselves as important.
They just passed quietly, and if you didn't hold onto them, they were gone.
So he held on.
February
The video began shakily, the dark of a movie theater filling the frame.
"February," Seon-woo whispered, like he was afraid the moment might hear him. "Our first movie together."
The camera tilted slightly, catching Ha Yoon's face lit by the screen. Her eyes were wide, reflecting flickering light, her lips parted in concentration. She leaned closer to him without realizing it, their arms brushing.
"You're not even watching," she murmured, glancing at him.
"I am," he lied, quickly shifting the camera away.
She smiled anyway, soft and unaware that this smile would someday live longer than the night itself.
March 3rd
The bus rattled loudly, rain streaking the windows. The video showed Ha Yoon asleep against his shoulder, her breathing slow, peaceful.
"March 3rd," he whispered. "She fell asleep on me."
He barely moved, afraid even breathing might wake her.
"My arm's numb," he added quietly, smiling to himself. "But I don't mind."
Her hair brushed his cheek every time the bus turned. He didn't dare touch her, not because he didn't want to, but because the closeness felt sacred and he doesn't want to wakes her up.
March 17th
The camera turned on too early, capturing laughter before the words.
"Stop filming me!" Ha Yoon protested, mouth full of food.
"My mom cooked for us," Seon-woo said proudly. "She made your favorite."
"She didn't even know it was my favorite," Ha Yoon said, grinning. "But somehow she did."
"You ate three bowls," he teased.
"And I'd eat three more," she shot back, reaching for another bite.
The video ended with Seon-woo laughing, real, unguarded laughter, the kind he only ever made around her.
March 23rd
Wind roared into the microphone.
"March 23rd," he said, breathless. "The beach."
The camera caught Ha Yoon running barefoot across the sand, shoes abandoned, laughter loud enough to compete with the waves.
"Seon-woo! Look!" she yelled, turning in circles. "It's so big!"
She ran straight into the water without hesitation, shrieking when it reached her ankles.
"You're crazy!" he called after her.
She turned back, eyes bright. "Then come be crazy with me!"
The camera dropped as he ran toward her, their laughter swallowed by the sea.
April
This time, the camera faced him.
He looked nervous, hair slightly messy, uniform collar crooked.
"April," he whispered. "I'm in a relationship with Ha Yoon." That was the first time he said it out loud.
He didn't know it would also be the last time it felt simple.
He paused, swallowing.
"I don't know how long it will last," he added honestly. "But I know how it feels. And I don't want to forget this version of us."
The camera shifted, catching Ha Yoon beside him, leaning into his shoulder.
"What are you saying?" she asked suspiciously.
"Nothing," he smiled. "Just… keeping a memory."
July
The frame showed a notebook filled with careful sketches.
"July," he said softly. "I'm designing rings."
His pencil hovered, unsure, then continued.
"For the future," he added quickly, almost embarrassed. "If we ever get there."
Off-camera, Ha Yoon laughed. "You're ridiculous."
But her voice softened when she added, "Don't erase that one. I like it."
His smile lingered long after the video ended.
September 13th
The camera shook as he climbed the rooftop stairs, cake balanced carefully in his hands.
"September 13th," he whispered, breath uneven. "Her birthday."
The door opened.
Ha Yoon stood there, confused, then stunned, then crying before he could even say her name.
"You remembered," she sobbed.
"I always will," he said quietly.
She laughed and cried at the same time, hugging him so tightly the cake nearly tipped.
The video ended with her whispering into his shoulder, "Thank you for loving me like this."
Seon-woo never stopped recording after that.
Even when things began to change.
Even when the future grew uncertain.
Because somewhere deep inside him, he knew, one day, these would be all he had left.