A White Christmas fic.
First published December 2020, for poeticname
Chihoon x Eunsung, 2718 words.
As an adult, Eunsung has given up on the idea of herself as a romantic heroine. Things like marriage vows seem meaningless – but still, it’s an expectation for her, isn’t it? If she doesn’t get married, have kids, she’s a failure as a woman and as a daughter. Bad enough that she pursued a career in psychiatry instead of business.
If Eunsung could ever feel again the way she did as a teenager – before her mother’s affair, before Kim Yohan – maybe she could open her heart and say she was healed.
But Eunsung just wants her parents off her back. That’s why she invites Choi Chihoon to dinner.
‘This was a surprise,’ he says to her, after they’re seated.
Eunsung fakes a smile, and she says, ‘Don’t you think it’s good to keep up with your old classmates?’
‘Not particularly,’ he says, and she smiles properly; he probably doesn’t notice the difference. ‘Are you calling up everyone, then,’ he asks, ‘with dinner invitations?’
‘That’ll be the day,’ Eunsung says. She fidgets with her bracelet, deciding how much to say. They’re interrupted by the waiter with their menus first.
She wonders how they appear to him – they make an attractive couple, surely? No matter that her residency is wearying, Eunsung knows how to make an effort. Chihoon looks a little professorial, perhaps, but with that face he can get away with it.
‘Do you get asked out often?’ Eunsung asks him.
‘Sometimes.’ Chihoon’s attention is on the menu. ‘They seem to have made a game of it, at work.’
‘A game?’
‘With the last new hire,’ Chihoon says, ‘they placed bets on how long it would be until I had to turn her down.’ He speaks matter-of-factly.
‘Does no-one warn them?’ Eunsung says, with a raised eyebrow. ‘I suppose I should be flattered that you said yes to me.’
‘They won’t get what they want from me,’ Chihoon says. Eunsung meets his eyes and she nods. She understands that.
Eunsung’s drink arrives, and they order. Holding the wine glass gives her something to do with her hands.
‘I’m afraid my motives may not be so different as all that,’ she says, when the waiter is gone. ‘My mother thinks I should be seeing someone.’
Chihoon takes a moment. ‘Do you care what your mother thinks?’
‘No.’ Eunsung hasn’t valued her mother’s opinion in a long time. ‘Not if she’d keep it to herself, I wouldn’t. It’s not like she’s the only one. Don’t you get it from your family too?’ Men can probably get away with being single for longer, but they have expectations on them too.
‘Ah,’ Chihoon says. ‘There’s some disagreement on the issue.’
‘Disagreement?’
‘They know how I am, of course. My father doesn’t think it should make a difference. My mother says –’ and here he’s clearly quoting – ‘I would be an unjust burden on any woman, and I’m wise to keep to myself.’
Eunsung covers her mouth, then, wanting to laugh – although she doubts Chihoon would be offended if she did. ‘I can see how that might play out,’ she says. Did she ever meet his parents? Even in the days after it all happened, she finds she can’t recall them. ‘Well,’ she says, ‘if we can meet up occasionally, it would help keep my family off my back. You can mention it to yours or not, if you like.’
Chihoon considers her. ‘Why me?’
‘Because,’ Eunsung says. ‘I know you won’t make more of it than what it is.’
Chihoon looks at her a little longer. ‘Alright.’
‘Alright?’ She doesn’t mean to sound as surprised as she does.
‘I don’t object to having dinner with you, Yu Eunsung. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.’
It isn’t exactly a compliment, but coming from Choi Chihoon, she’s pleased anyway.
Dating Chihoon is less of a chore than Eunsung might have imagined. He might not be much for small talk, but Eunsung finds she enjoys the conversations they do have. Chihoon is happy to let her lead, and he doesn’t object if she speaks bluntly. They can discuss current events, or new scientific theories, or the nature of crime as it relates to anything other than what they did as teenagers.
Maybe if they didn’t always meet up in public they could discuss that too.
It’s not that Eunsung wants to talk about it. She usually manages to do quite well not even thinking about it. But then, she hasn’t been seeing any of them this regularly, has she? Since high school ended. It’s only natural that it would bring up old memories. What they did to make themselves safe, when the world around them proved itself unreliable. The school. The cops. Their parents.
One day Eunsung finishes her shift and Haeyoung in reception points out a woman to her – she’s been waiting but Haeyoung isn’t sure Eunsung will want to talk to her. Eunsung doesn’t recognise the woman’s name, but looking over at her, she does seem familiar: a handsome woman in her fifties.
But if Eunsung wanted to get away without speaking to her, the opportunity is lost. Because the woman sees her, and she knows Eunsung’s face.
She did see Chihoon’s parents, Eunsung thinks, in the hospital afterward. Just not that first night.
They walk together to the bus stop. Eunsung suggests coffee, but the woman says she’ll be quick.
‘I was surprised when my son mentioned your name.’
‘Is that so?’ Eunsung herself is surprised that Chihoon mentioned her. Even if she’d invited him to.
‘I would have thought that someone who knew him back then would have known better. Or is that the attraction, I wonder?’
‘Excuse me?’ Eunsung stops walking, and the woman rounds to face her.
‘You’re a psychiatry resident,’ she says.
‘Yes.’
‘My son isn’t normal.’
Is she trying to warn Eunsung off? Or accusing her of – what, taking an academic interest in Chihoon, rather than a romantic one?
‘What is normal in this world, I wonder?’ Eunsung says. ‘What happened to us wasn’t normal.’
‘You know I’m not talking about that.’
‘Of course not.’
The woman gives her an up-down look, as if Eunsung’s appearance will give her the sum of her.
‘Chihoon won’t give you what you want,’ the woman says. ‘He’s not capable.’
‘We all want different things.’
‘No, we don’t.’ The woman has a dead certainty in her eyes.
And what is Eunsung meant to say to that? It must be frustrating to give birth to a child and find him unable to love you the way you expect. Children have higher expectations on them, Eunsung thinks, than parents do.
‘You should find yourself a different man, Yu Eunsung.’
‘Perhaps.’ Eunsung smiles at her. ‘But I find your son suits me, for now.’ And she wishes her good night with a finality, and she walks away without waiting for a response.
Eunsung finds that she’s shaking. She’s actually angry.
Chihoon’s mother doesn’t follow her. On the way to the bus stop, Eunsung takes out her phone and she texts Chihoon.
Your mother came to see me at work, she writes. In a separate message, she adds, I don’t think she’ll be inviting me to dinner any time soon.
Did you want to have dinner with her?
No, Eunsung writes. I think she’s concerned about my motives. Maybe she thinks I’ll write a paper on you.
I’m not sure that would get past an ethics board, Chihoon replies.
He’s serious, but it makes her smile. She puts her phone away, then, and waits for the bus in a better mood.
If Chihoon’s mother doesn’t want to have dinner, Eunsung’s mother does. Eunsung can only put her off so long before she’s forced to pass an invitation along to Chihoon, and Chihoon, to her surprise, agrees. It’s a higher level of dedication to their fake relationship than Eunsung was expecting.
She hadn’t thought, when she invited Chihoon to dinner, about what the endpoint of this would be. Is dinner with her parents a step too far? Should they stage a break up? But she thinks she’d miss him, then. Should they keep on going? It’s not as if Chihoon would make any worse a husband than she a wife. At least she’d know what she was getting into.
Maybe she never knew what she was getting into.
The most awkward part of dinner is when Eunsung’s mother asks Chihoon what he likes about ‘our Eunsung’. Eunsung’s hands freeze on the cutlery. Maybe they should have rehearsed, she thinks; she should have imagined the kind of intrusive questions her mother might ask. But they hadn’t talked about it at all, when they met for dinner last week. Instead they’d talked about antibiotic resistance, and overprescription in general, and the increasing number of young people being diagnosed with mental conditions …
‘Eunsung is a very straightforward person,’ Chihoon says. ‘We have a lot in common.’
Eunsung stares at him. Her father laughs.
‘She is that,’ her father says.
And Eunsung thinks, is that how he sees me?
It doesn’t make her unhappy.
Her mother, seemingly flummoxed, changes the subject.
Eunsung could be married to Chihoon. She can think of as many rational reasons for it as irrational ones: it’s cheaper for two to live together than separately, for a start. And if Eunsung has to be married to someone, she’d rather it be someone who can stand with her against her own family … or is that an irrational reason?
Maybe she’s fonder of him than she thought.
The restaurant her parents chose is close to her apartment; they walk back, all four of them. Her parents say goodnight.
‘I’ll walk to the station –’ Chihoon starts, but Eunsung’s father laughs.
‘You don’t need to pretend,’ he says. ‘We were young once too.’
Eunsung wants the ground to swallow her whole. Chihoon just looks confused, but he lets Eunsung grab his sleeve and drag him into the lobby, where they’re safe from her parents’ insinuations.
‘Sorry,’ Eunsung says, and she lets go of him. ‘I didn’t think they’d be like that.’
Chihoon touches his hand to his face, and he says, ‘We must be reasonably convincing.’
Eunsung looks at his still slightly taken-aback face, and she laughs.
‘People see what they expect,’ she says.
‘I suppose.’
It might be noticed, if she sends him away too quickly, so she asks him up. At least, that’s the reason she tells herself. Maybe Eunsung isn’t so straightforward as Chihoon thinks. She wants to be, though.
She makes them both tea, and then she sits beside Chihoon on the couch. She folds her hands in her lap.
‘Maybe I shouldn’t have started this,’ she says. ‘The longer it goes on, the more they’ll expect. We’ll have to move in together, and get married, and –’ She doesn’t even want to think have children …
‘That’s alright for me,’ Chihoon says, ‘but what about you?’
‘What?’
‘Would that be alright for you?’
‘I … I’m sorry, did you just say “that’s alright” for you?’
‘Sure,’ Chihoon says. ‘I don’t mind marrying you.’
Eunsung stares at him in open shock. And then she laughs. She laughs, and has trouble stopping.
‘Why is that funny?’ Chihoon asks.
‘Because,’ Eunsung says,’ generally when you agree to marry someone you’re meant to be a bit more enthusiastic than “I don’t mind”.’
‘I’m not sure what you were expecting,’ Chihoon says. ‘I did ask if it would be alright for you.’
‘I don’t know,’ Eunsung says. It’s not as if she’s been in a serious relationship as an adult; she doesn’t know what conjugal happiness would look like. ‘What about children?’
‘That’s up to you,’ Chihoon says. ‘You’re the one who’d have to carry them.’
‘And do the child-raising?’ Eunsung asks, with a lift of her eyebrow.
‘There’s two of us,’ Chihoon says. ‘But I don’t imagine you spent so many years at med school to become a stay-at-home mother.’
‘No,’ Eunsung says. ‘I didn’t. You’re right. I don’t think our lives allow for children.’
It feels so strange, to be discussing this out loud. But at the same time it’s a relief. If Chihoon is on the same page as her – if she won’t have pressure from his side – that makes people’s expectations easier to manage.
‘I would have thought you’d be concerned about my condition anyway,’ Chihoon says. He looks at her a little oddly.
‘I’ve met terrible parents,’ Eunsung says. ‘I don’t think you could be that bad.’
‘I meant whether it’s heritable.’
She frowns. ‘It’s not a genetic condition.’
‘Nevertheless.’
‘I’m not concerned about that,’ she says. ‘I’m talking about marrying you, aren’t I? Besides. People who are concerned with what they might get shouldn’t have children.’
‘I think it’s normal to want children to be healthy,’ Chihoon says.
‘You can want it,’ Eunsung says. ‘That doesn’t mean you’ll get it. You have to be able to parent them anyway.’
It’s Chihoon’s turn to raise his eyebrows. Maybe that came out too vehement.
‘I don’t think I want to be a mother,’ Eunsung says. ‘Ever.’
‘Then don’t,’ Chihoon says. ‘I said, it’s up to you.’
‘It’s not like everything has to be decided at once,’ she says. But the fact she’s talking about it … maybe she has decided to marry him.
Yu Eunsung, marrying Choi Chihoon.
She wonders, suddenly, what Park Mooyul would say if he could hear the conversation they were having. He’d be aghast, wouldn’t he? Maybe she should go all out, then.
‘What about sex?’ she asks.
‘What about it?’
‘Will you have sex with me?’ Eunsung looks at him sidelong, but of course he doesn’t get flustered or excited.
‘If you want me to,’ he says, with a tilt of his head.
‘Do you even like sex?’
‘Sure,’ Chihoon says. ‘But it’s not exactly imperative. I know how to masturbate.’
Eunsung can only hold his gaze a moment before she starts laughing.
‘Alright then,’ she says.
‘You’re very easily amused tonight.’
‘It’s been an odd night,’ she says. She wasn’t expecting, when she told Chihoon he was invited to dinner with her parents, that this was how things would end up. ‘You’re very accommodating.’
‘I don’t think that’s true.’
‘Sure it is. You came to dinner with my parents. You say you’ll marry me if I want. Have kids if I want.’ She mouths the word sex but doesn’t say it. ‘Don’t tell me this is the domestic life you’ve always dreamed of.’
‘I haven’t.’
‘So why’s everything okay,’ she says, ‘if it’s me?’
He doesn’t answer right away. ‘Because you’re not asking too much.’
‘Choi Chihoon, you told me they place bets on you turning down girls for dates at work.’
‘That’s because I don’t know them. They don’t know me. Why should I go on dates with them?’
‘Well, generally that’s how people get to know each other better … but I take your point.’ Those girls probably barely register to Chihoon. Eunsung is already, inevitably, there. Their lives are already inextricable. From when she lured Kim Yohan to the roof. From when they each decided to stay behind that Christmas.
‘When I finish my residency,’ Eunsung says, ‘if this whole thing hasn’t fallen apart, let’s set a date then.’
‘Alright,’ Chihoon says.
And then, because Eunsung is already pushing her luck, she adds, ‘We don’t have to wait that long to have sex though.’
‘How long do we have to wait for that?’
She would think she were being teased, if he were anyone else.
‘We don’t,’ she says. And that’s not teasing either.
When she was a girl, Eunsung had thought she wanted to be cherished – to be precious to someone, and receive value in their eyes.
Her parents put pay to her illusions about love, though – parental and romantic both.
The strongest bond Eunsung has had, will ever have, is that between her and the seven who went through what she went through; the six of them who keep each other’s secret. It’s not love – more like shared experience and mutually assured destruction – but it’s what she has.
This thing she’s building with Chihoon isn’t love either – it’s a pragmatic response to what society expects them to be. But even so, Eunsung can’t say she doesn’t enjoy her time with Chihoon.
And whether she’s cherished or not, it’s good to have a partner.