Frowning, Kim Hyeok turned his attention to setting up the tape recorder on his desk. There was no point in thinking about her. His three years with his ex had left him painfully aware that he was unfit for a serious relationship.
Many times in the sixteen months since he'd last seen her, Kim Hyeok had tried to imagine the pain he had unthinkingly put her through. Her love for him must have been like the unrequited love one feels for the dead. That was what he'd been to her—a dead man, a ghost who materialized occasionally in the bedroom of their apartment, tired and preoccupied, a ghost who left her questions hanging unanswered in the darkness, who rarely responded even to her touch.
Hostility became her only means of contact with this man who was not there. She got angry at him with increasing frequency. Sometimes her sarcasm cut too deep, and then he would snap at her, and she would retreat into another room, a slammed door between them.
