Although the palace was only about half an hour or so away, we took the long way around; one that offered us a view of the pond for a while, still. For the first few minutes we chatted for a bit. It was chit-chat, really, although I found that even talking about mundane things with Chi felt interesting. I told him about what I'd been up to while he was gone (which was nothing much, basically), and how the planting had been going. Chi was a good listener; he asked lots of questions, and his eyes sparkled with genuine enthusiasm as I spoke about how well the wheat was doing.
"I knew that bringing you here was a good thing," he said. Normally, I would brush off any praise that came my way; it was mostly polite compliments, anyway. But coming from Chi, it meant more, and the sound of proud satisfaction in his voice lifted my heart.
Despite keeping a steady conversation, I knew that we were both intentionally keeping it focused on me. Slowly, I eased my way into the question I dreaded asking. "So, how was your trip?"
Chi chuckled, though not as easily as before. "You already asked me that."
"I suppose I did." I bit my lip. "Actually, I didn't. I asked you if you had a good trip. You said 'yes,' but I'm honestly not too sure if you did."
Chi turned his head from me, training his gaze on the ground as he walked. I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. He looked the same as before—obviously, he couldn't have magically changed over a few weeks—but I still noticed some differences. He was tall and slim, as usual, but he looked like he had lost a little weight, and his cheekbones were a bit sharper. He was maybe a little more tanned as well, likely a product of many days of traveling. It looked good on him, but what struck me the most, was the expression on his downturned face. Chi carried kindness with him always; it was what I loved most about him. I could still see his kindness in his face now, but I saw something else too—something that reminded me of inner conflict.
I was debating apologizing, when he spoke again. "You're right."
"I'm…"
"You're right," he repeated. He stopped walking and turned to face me. Only now, I wasn't sure if I could face him, if I could follow through with what I had tempted by speaking out. "Ha-Na." Chi gently took my shoulders, turning me towards him. He bent down to look directly in my eyes. Only then, did I see the dark circles under his eyes. And the pink rims above them.
"Chi…" without really thinking, I reached up and touched his cheek. A single tear escaped from each of his amber eyes, and I wiped one away with my thumb.
Chi covered my hand with his, holding it to his cheek. "Do you…" He swallowed. "Do you know why I left?"
I nodded. "Yes. I mean, I think so. Chung-Hee told me…" I took a breath before finishing. "That it had something to do with you getting married soon." Chi's fingers tightened over mine, and for a second, I thought that I might let my own tears fall.
"She's right." His lower lip trembled, but he continued, his voice husky with sadness. "How can I ask you to forgive me?"
"Chi," I began. This was going to be hard. Looking at him, literally holding on to him, I couldn't imagine ever letting go. But holding on would just be painful for both of us. "We knew you were getting married. This doesn't surprise me. I won't pretend that it doesn't…make me sad. But this was never meant to be."
"But I—"
"You" I caressed Chi's cheek with my thumb. "have nothing to be forgiven for."
"I should have called for you sooner. I should have gone out and found you, myself. I didn't think that my aunt would insist…that she would require…"
"Your aunt would never have accepted me, no matter when or if you had looked for me earlier." It was a hard truth to admit, but it I needed to say it. It was the truth, and it was something to convince myself that there was nothing either of us could have done to prevent Chi's impending marriage. Well, that was, his impending marriage to someone other than me.
Chi shook his head, but I could see in his eyes that he knew I was right. "Ha-Na, if I could do anything to avoid this—"
"You couldn't." I felt a few stray tears fall. "You can't."
"I know." He lifted his free hand, gently brushing my tears from my cheeks with his thumb. "But if I could, I promise you, I would."
More tears replaced the ones he wiped away. A flood of emotions hit me. How long had I, without even knowing it, longed for someone to tell me what he said to me now? Not just anyone, but him. Only now that he said it, I knew it would never come true. That all we'd ever have were a few precious memories and a deep sorrow that nothing, and no one, could ever fill.
"I know you would," I finally replied.
Chi folded me into a hug. Despite the height difference, I was still tall enough that his chin could brush the top of my hair. "I really did miss you," I mumbled into his robes.
Chi gave a light chuckle that rustled my hair. "You don't know how I've missed you, Ha-Na." Something about that quieted me. I realized that even though he said it—and I believed in his sincerity—I somehow couldn't quite believe that his words were really meant for me. "I missed your curiosity, and how you love to learn." He moved one hand from my back to my head, holding it to him. "I missed seeing your expression when you're out in the fields. I missed your smile and your laughter. Even though they don't come so easily, they're beautiful when they do finally come. I'd missed those things for a long time."
More silent tears flooded my cheeks. It was clear that he knew me—the real me—and meant every word that he said. But he also, in this strange, dual version of the world that I was living in, meant them for Ha-Na, the girl he'd known from long before. His first love. He cared for me, I had no doubt, but I could never be his first love. And now, I would also never get to be his last.
It was the reminder I needed to force myself from the safe, happy dream of a place I'd found, and confront the stark reality. "You probably need to get back." My voice was barely a whisper. "They'll want to know where you went."
Chi was silent for a few, long moments. Finally, he dropped a delicate kiss, warm with both friendship and sadness, on the top of my head, before he loosened his embrace. He held me back, his gaze so sorrowful that I almost wanted to bury my head in his chest again.
Except I knew that I couldn't.
At last, he nodded. "You're right." A mixture of regret and longing tinged his voice.
"I'll walk with you." I entwined my fingers with his. "As far, and as long, as you want me to."