Page 121 of The Comeback
I nod and his face breaks open in a huge smile. “Let’s go.”
Thirty-Nine
The next day I go with Hana to the train station. Even though Jihoon offered to fly her, Hana wants to take the KTX train because “it goes over three hundred kilometers an hour!” I hadn’t known she had a thing for trains.
“Try to sit with the baseball team,” I tell her as Yeong hauls out her luggage and she thanks him.
She looks at me. “ATrain to Busanjoke? Predictable.”
I wave her off and get back in the car. A few minutes after I arrive at the condo, Jihoon comes in, Kit trailing behind him. Both men look utterly beat, but Jihoon smiles and envelops me in a hug before resting his cheek on my head. “This was worth surviving the early morning photo shoot,” he says.
“We can stay in if you’re tired.” I pull back to look him over.
Jihoon makes a face. “I’ll fall asleep, and I have plans for us.”
“Have fun.” Kit lolls over the couch in a melodramatic reenactment ofThe Death of Maratand then collapses to the floor. He sounds uncharacteristically friendly, which I attribute to his fatigue.
Jihoon prods Kit’s prone body with a toe. “We’ll be back tonight. Don’t wait for dinner.”
“Be smart, Jihoon-ah,” Kit says, rolling over on his back. “Can you drag me to my room before you go?”
“No.” Jihoon steps over him lightly.
We head off. “What did Kit mean by being smart?” I ask.
“Don’t be seen.”
I stiffen at Kit being Kit after all. Jihoon grabs my hand and holds it. “It’s not you,” he says hurriedly. “I mean, it is you because I’m trying to protect your privacy, but it’s not you personally, if that makes sense.”
“I get it.” I do but I feel uneasy. It’s like he’s ashamed of me. “Where are we going?”
“What shoes are you wearing?”
“That’s your concern. My shoes.”
He sighs. “For walking, Ari, not style. I want to know if you can go for a hike.”
“I’m good.” I don’t need to glance down to check that I’m wearing comfortable flats.
“Perfect. Seoul has many mountains.”
“We’re climbing a mountain?” I’m intrigued, but also, mountains are high.
“We’ll do an easy path,” he says. “Not up to the summit.”
We chat idly about nothing in particular as we drive north out of the city, and now that I’m looking, I can’t believe I haven’t noticed how mountainous it is here. Seoul is so modern that the green that rises all around almost seems to fade into the background.
“Here we are,” Jihoon announces. “Bukhansan Mountain.”
He hands me a face mask that I dutifully don as I weave my hair into a tight braid. Jihoon pulls on a bucket hat and a mask, and there’s no way anyone can recognize him because all you can see is his—admittedly very pretty—eyes. Then he dons sunglasses and those are hidden, too.
The mountain trail is moderately busy, and I soon learn to dodge older women wielding technical hiking sticks like weapons. It reminds me of home, with the autumn leaves glowing red and gold in the sun and a cool bite to the air.
Jihoon takes my hand, and we walk for about ten minutes, each of us wrapped in our own thoughts but enjoying the other’s presence. Occasionally he takes out his phone to jot down a note, and I lean on a rail and let my mind wander. This is the first time in years I haven’t been thinking about work, and it’s a little worrisome. I should be scheming and plotting about how to raise my profile, especially given Brittany’s rising star.
I don’t want to. I feel at rest, my mind calm. Jihoon taps away as he hums, absorbed in the fragments of lyrics and melodies that he wants to capture before they fade. Law was never that. It was a duty, and I’m competitive and egotistical enough to want to be the best, but I never loved it. I was never inspired the way Jihoon is right now.
My hand goes white on the rail. I’m never going to be the best lawyer in the city, at Yesterly and Havings or anywhere else. I don’t want it enough, not anymore. I don’t know if I ever did or if I simply repeated that story to myself until I believed it.
