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“Did you lose a little patient again?” Father Ahn says, sitting beside his youngest brother on one of the church’s pews.
The Saturday morning air is warmer than usual and his soutane seems to be clinging to his skin more than it should, dampening his mood. It is just early May but it feels like they are already in the middle of summer with the sweltering heat. His garment doesn’t help, of course but this is just one of the hazards of his job he had come to terms with a long time ago. Fortunately, his favourite maknae brought some ice popsicles in different flavours so he brightens up instantly. His fogged-up brain due to the humid weather instantly clears up as soon as the iced candy fills his mouth.
Ahn Jeongwon shakes his head. “Ani,” he answers, licking on his strawberry popsicle. “I just wanted to see you and make a confession while I’m here. It has been awhile since my last one.”
Father Ahn laughs. “Ya inma, we just saw each other last March at the hospital when eomma had her surgery. And as for confession, do you even need it? Tell me, what’s the biggest sin you did recently aside from being a miser to yourself and to your friends just so you can donate all your money to charity? God doesn’t count that as sin, believe me. You’re forgiven. You can buy this poor priest his favourite wine later and you’re good to go,” he says while biting a large chunk off his ice cream and chomping on it like a little kid.
Jeongwon grimaces, both at the ice cream dripping down his eldest brother’s chin and his half-meant joke.
“Aigoo, what a mess,” he offers a pack of tissues he brought along with the ice popsicles. He gives his hyung a funny look. “You know, it’s really a great mystery for me, until now, why a rebellious prankster like you ended up wearing a cassock and preaching to a congregation every Sunday. You’re a nutjob, hyung! You know that? What was God even thinking when He let you served him like this?” He shakes his head, chuckling in amusement.
Father Ahn shrugs. “God moves in mysterious ways, maknae-ya,” he tells his dongsaeng with a straight, pious face. “He’s the same God who used a woman to stop you from making the biggest mistake of following my footsteps,” he grins, eyes twinkling with mirth and mischief. “He didn’t use that on me or on Sungkyun, mind you. Don’t you think God is maybe playing favorites here?” He nudges Jeongwon before he breaks into a chortle, amused by his own joke.
Jeongwon looks at Dong-il with a gentle smile at the mention of Gyeoul. Maybe he is indeed God’s favourite because He gave Gyeoul to him.
“How is she, anyway? Why are you not spending your precious weekends with your girlfriend? This crazy kid, I don’t know what to do with you. Don’t come bawling to me when she finally realizes that being with you is a huge mistake, alright?” Dong-il warns passionately, his spit flying in the air, making Jeongwon shriek in annoyance, both at his hyung’s unwanted body fluids and his unsolicited warning.
“Ya, hyung, jinjja! You watch your words!” He glares at his brother-priest in consternation. “She’s spending her day-off with her mom. Just because we’re not together in one day doesn’t mean I’m neglecting her or she’s neglecting me. Dating isn’t about being together physically all the time, hyung,” he tells his brother, smug written on his face.
Father Ahn bursts out in laughter before he glares at Jeongwon. “This punk. How dare you lecture me with such arrogant tone,” he mumbles in annoyance. “Do you think I don’t know anything about dating?” he huffs. “I’ve dated to my heart’s content before surrendering my life to God, just so you know.” His eyes turn wistful. “You may not remember it because you were just a little kid then but this hyung dated all the pretty girls in college, alright?” he gives Jeongwon’s cheek a light slap. “One even ended up being a runner-up in Miss Korea.”
Jeongwon frowns and continues eating his ice cream, not even wanting to dignify his hyung’s claim with a proper response.
“Tell Gyeoul I’ve been missing the Gwangju yukjeon she brought when we had dinner at Yangpyeong with the family on eomma’s birthday,” Father Ahn continues, ignoring Jeongwon’s frown. “When her mom makes extra again, tell her I’d be more than willing to take some,” he smiles toothily.
Something pricks at Jeongwon’s heart at the mention of Gyeoul and her eomma. The same ache he has been nursing these days after he learned everything about her and her family a few days back.
“Arasseo, I will,” he humors his hyung. “She did ask to send you her regards. And she told me to remind you to inform her that if your parish would be holding a medical mission anytime soon, she’d be happy to volunteer again,” Jeongwon beams, remembering his girlfriend’s request. “She enjoyed the last one we did last year.”
“Aigoo, just tell her to rest on her free time whenever she can. Bring her to nice places and enjoy time with each other,” Father Ahn clucks his tongue. “But if she really wants to, we really need all the help we can get especially from medical specialists like the two of you. We’re planning something this summer, I’ll let you know when the schedule has been set.”
Jeongwon nods, pursing his lips in satisfaction. He continues to eat his ice cream while looking at the altar, his eyes drawn to the life-sized cross at the center.
Suddenly, at the sight of the cross, he is reminded why his feet dragged him here on a humid Saturday morning. He needs to unburden the weight in his heart and he needs answers to the questions in his head.
Father Ahn follows his youngest brother’s gaze and keeps silent for a moment, leaving the latter to his own thoughts.
Four decades of knowing Jeongwon has made him an expert to reading his moods and mind. Not that he needs any special skill to read their maknae’s mind, anyway. Jeongwon is so transparent that it is easy to know that something is troubling him just by the way he talks to Dong-Il.
In the past, when he was beyond pain and consolation after witnessing his little patients suffer in pain or ended up dying, he would ask for Dong-Il to listen to his drunken rants at the chicken restaurant near the police station, bribing him with unlimited servings of chicken drumsticks and fries and bringing a bottle of his favourite wine.
But for the past two years since he abandoned his plans for Italy, Jeongwon had stopped going to him in tears. He would still visit him of course, for confession and advice or just to catch up with him as he does with all the rest of his siblings. But never to rant or complain to God about the unfairness of life again just because he was torn on what to do with his life. Falling in love has clearly changed him, Dong-Il had noticed, for the better. He seemed to finally have filled a void in his heart that challenging God about His decisions on people’s lives had taken a backseat.
Love’s sweetness has taken over Jeongwon’s bitterness about seeing pain in little kids. It has made him more accepting of the truth that he is not God who is expected to cure and heal every disease, to stop death even, for his little patients. He seemed to have realized that he was expected to only do his best as a doctor and nothing more. The rest is up to God.
Looking at Jeongwon today though, his eyes still fixed at the altar, his eyes getting solemn and his shoulders sagging a bit, tells Dong-Il that there is something bothering him. A burden he needs to unload but doesn’t know how.
“Is there something about eomma you are not telling me?” Dong-Il starts to ask.
Jeongwon takes a few seconds before the question registers in his mind. “Huh? Of course not. She is totally fine now. She looks healthier than you. She’s doing what she loves and she is spending her days happily. I told you, do not worry. Jung Rosa-nim is perfectly fine.”
Dong-Il heaves a grateful sigh. “Dahaengida. Mom is all I could think about these days. My prayers are all about her. God must be annoyed hearing them now.”
Jeongwon laughs softly. “I’m sure that God understands, hyung. She’s the only mother we’ve got. Of course, we are always worried about her health.”
“Keurae. The one and only Jung Rosa.”
“Don’t you find it fortunate that we grew up in our family, hyung?” Jeongwon asks, his tone pensive. “I mean, I know we take it for granted, but I think God has favoured us so much when He allowed us to be Jung Rosa and Ahn Byeong Woo’s kids.” He casts his gaze down on his lap, his intertwined hands turning fidgety. “We are truly blessed, right, hyung? Our family isn’t perfect but at least we had a happy childhood. We went to good schools, ate more than three meals a day, had nice clothes and appa and eomma truly loved us even if we were a bunch of noisy kids who played and ate a lot.”
Jeongwon’s eyes and smiles turn wistful at the memory of their childhood. Dong-Il nods, himself recollecting his growing up years. As the eldest of the brood, he knew that having five kids in the family was expensive and more than a handful. But he never saw his parents struggle with it, not only because they were financially well-off but because they were hands-on parents and worked as a team. Their father was a busy doctor and businessman but he could only count on one hand the times he missed an important event in his children’s lives. He was always there on birthdays, sports meets, family day activities, graduations and first communions. And their mother – strong-willed, smart and straightforward Jung Rosa – was always there to make sure her children would learn how to use their privileged status to help others who are in need, lead simple lives and be as normal as any kid is.
Being a chaebol is not a badge you flaunt to get a free-pass to everything, she told them early on. It’s a tool to help others, just look at what your father is doing.
To whom much is given, much will be required. A verse from the book of Luke has been their family motto and something the siblings had memorized since they were young. It’s a verse that Ahn Byeongwoo himself lived out until his last breath. A verse everyone of Rosa’s kids take to heart.
Something that Jeongwon has been seriously living out, as well, after their father’s example, at the hospital.
“But have you ever seen eomma and appa fight?” Jeongwon interrupts his brother’s reverie. “Coz I haven’t. I was the last one to leave the house among us, but I don’t recall any instance I’ve heard or seen them fight. Or were they just so good at hiding it from us?”
Whenever Rosa would get angry at her husband, she would rant about how their marriage was just for convenience and that theirs was not a union borne out of love. She had said these too many times, lashing out her frustrations at the dining table, that her kids grew up knowing this fact about their parents. But contrary to her claim that theirs was a loveless marriage, what their children saw was a union based on mutual respect, friendship and deep trust for each other. If indeed, romantic love was not in the equation, then certainly the presence of affection and friendship more than made up for it and was enough to sustain a marriage that lasted for more than forty years.
Dong-Il chuckles and nods. “Eomma always has a big voice and of course, there’s always a disagreement from time to time. But appa always yields to her, I think. He let her get her way just to shut her up. Her voice must be so irritating to his ears for him to keep being generous like that.”
“And he has always been soft-spoken and gentle to us,” Jeongwon adds, remembering the calmness and quiet grace of his dad. The late Yulje Chairman was not well-loved for nothing. He never showed anger or any unnecessary negative emotion. Even when he disciplined his children, he was stern but he never used foul words. He did not even use the rod on them because his words and his serious eyes were enough to stop the children from misbehaving. Rosa was the one who used the rod, and even then, she only used it in extreme situations like that one time the two older boys sneaked in the middle of the night and drove off with their father’s car without each of them holding a driver’s license yet as they were just in high school.
Their abeoji, together with their eomma, was generous with his affections and compliments, enabling his children to grow confident and happy, assured that they were loved and cared for, making sure they had roots strong enough to allow them to reach for whatever they wanted in life.
This demeanor extended to how Jeongwon’s father dealt with his colleagues and subordinates at the hospital. He was diligent, generous and kind. He ran Yulje Foundation like it was his family. He was never impersonal and always dealt with people with an outstretched hand and a generous heart, ready to serve and help.
Before his son earned the moniker, Ahn Byeongwoo was Yulje’s original Buddha. And Jeongwon could not imagine him being a father that is exactly the opposite.
Like Gyeoul’s appa.
The thought hitches his breath. His hands involuntarily curl into fists and his jaw tightens.
“Tell me, hyung. Why does God allow other kids to be in abusive families? Are we better than those kids? Does it mean that those kids are at fault or more sinful than us? Why do we deserve what we had and why do those kids had to live with what they have?” He suddenly asks, the questions tumbling out of his mouth unbridled. “Even adults cannot take a beating without getting hospitalized, how much more with little kids?” His eyes narrow in growing anger. “Why does God allow this to happen to innocent children? From the hands of their own fathers?”
Dong-Il looks at Jeongwon, his eyes turning curious at his abrupt question and the sudden change in his mood. “Why, do you have a patient who is a victim of child abuse this time? Aigoo. That must be so tough for the kid.”
Jeongwon feels his heart constrict, Gyeoul’s words are haunting him and ringing in his ears once again.
One time I broke my arm while stopping appa from hitting eomma… I was always afraid to go home from school… home felt like hell… when I moved to Seoul, that was the first time I ever slept peacefully at night…
Her soft, detached voice in recounting to him her ordeal at the hands of her own father broke his heart then and is still breaking it, each time he recalls that moment.
And the sound of her wailing while she hugged him tightly in the GS medical office is imprinted in his memory and heart forever. It was the first time that he saw Gyeoul broke down like that and at first, he didn’t even know what to do. His Gyeoul, his precious, brave and strong-willed Gyeoul weeping in his arms, her whole body shaking with all the burden she has been carrying for God knows how long and all he could do was hug her back tightly. He didn’t even know back then what she was going through but just the sight of her vulnerable, sobbing, without words coming from her lips except her loud, angry and sad cries shook him to his core. It was not a sight he wanted to see on her ever again, if he can help it.
So when he finally knew everything, he was beyond appalled and angry at the unfairness of it all. Gyeoul doesn’t’ bear physical bruises of her abusive past but in her eyes, he saw the emotional scars and trauma of her ordeal.
He would be lying if he says that he didn’t have an inkling that Gyeoul might have had been dealing with domestic violence issues at home. He first had this suspicion last year when she went after the abusive husband of one of Ikjun’s patients and got assaulted. That incident made him recall how she bravely chased after an abusive dad of his little patients across the hospital, putting herself in danger, and barefooted at that.
Her reactions in both instances were too strong and unusual enough to make him nurse the thought that she must have been witness to domestic violence at some point in her life but he never allowed himself to think that she might be a victim of it herself. Just the thought of it made him wince and angry so he brushed that hunch away.
But after her revelation, he no longer had any reason to hide from that suspicion. It is her reality. She suffered from it. And she is still bearing the brunt of such abuse even now that she is an adult. In the past two days, Gyeoul’s story is all that filled his thoughts.
How must she have suffered a lot, as a kid witnessing her father beat his mother, then her and Gaeul.
Jeongwon thought about how she said that going home from school was such a dreaded thing for her and that broke his heart even more. He recalled how she said moving to Seoul meant being able to sleep peacefully for the first time and Jeongwon felt so undeserving that he never came to know the difficulties she was talking about.
It was so unfair, he said to God. Why do people like Gyeoul and Gaeul had to go through a difficult childhood while there are people like him who grew up in stable and loving homes where the only beating he ever got was his eomma smacking him because he forgot to water her plants while she was away for a few days.
“Who is He to inflict pain on hapless innocent kids?” Jeongwon asks again, his voice edgier than before. “These kids don’t deserve such abuse, hyung. And they don’t get to choose the family they will be born into. What makes God decide that we deserve eomma and appa while others deserve scumbags as fathers?”
Dong-Il looks at the altar for a long time, pondering on what to answer. Trust his youngest brother to ask faith-challenging questions on a lazy Saturday morning. But he sees the veiled anger and pain in his brother’s eyes and he knows Jeongwon is serious with his questions. Clearly, his empathetic nature is getting the better of him again and Dong-Il knows that brushing off his questions while they are in church would be like blaspheming God. God is waiting for him to defend Him against Jeongwon. He knows he should do his best. And more importantly, Jeongwon needs to have that peace in his heart before he leaves this church. As a priest, it is his duty not to lead one of his flocks astray. As a brother, it’s the least thing hyung can do to his gentle and reliable dongsaeng.
“Suffering is not from God, Jeongwon-ah. People make bad decisions. People make other people suffer without consulting God and sadly, innocent children are collateral damage. I’m sure of that,” Father Ahn starts to say.
Then he sighs. “But yes, He allows it. For reasons we may only understand later or maybe never understand at all. His ways are not our ways, his thoughts are always higher than ours. That’s what the bible says. And as a servant of God, I whole-heartedly believe that. All we have to do is to trust Him.”
Jeongwon looks at his hyung with muted anger in his eyes. “A little girl doesn’t deserve to be afraid of her own home. She doesn’t deserve to have her bones broken at the hands of the very person she trusts to keep her safe. What great purpose in the universe does that painful reality serve?”
Dong-Il has to wince at the information. “I don’t know either. And you’re right, no kid deserves such ordeal. But I am sure that the fact that little girl lives and found her way into your care is a testament that God sees her. Maybe that’s even why you ended up being her doctor. God knows that Ahn Jeongwon is the kindest, gentlest and most soft-hearted pediatric surgeon in this country so He leads the bravest and most special kids to your care. He trusts that you will take care of them like they are your own kids.”
Father Ahn pauses, purses his lips and gives his dongsaeng a gentle side-glance. He has always been proud of their maknae. He is pure-hearted and Dong-Il is very much aware that he is one of the best in his field. But what really sets Jeongwon apart from his peers is his gentle soul and big generous heart.
“I don’t want to dare to guess the purpose behind that little girl’s suffering, Jeongwon-ah. I am not God. But one thing I know is that He is using you to help that little girl. Out of all the hospitals in Korea, she ended up in Yulje. And out of all the doctors, she ended up under your care. She was abused by her dad, you say? That tells me why you became her doctor. You are the total opposite of her father. You are a gentle, caring man who heals and makes her laugh. You can show her that not all adults can hurt him like her father did. The other doctors are good enough to cure her wounds. But you, Jeongwon, have something more special for her. You can heal her.”
Jeongwon’s eyes turn misty at his brother’s words. Dong-Il doesn’t even know they are talking about Gyeoul but his words seem to sum up the reason they met. Could his brother be right? Is this the reason he and Gyeoul ended up meeting and falling for each other? Because God knew her history of pain and her struggles? She had lived a long, dark winter. Did God orchestrate for them to meet so Jeongwon can show her that someone can love her like he wants to – gently, surely, unconditionally? Does God really have a bigger purpose for Gyeoul’s painful childhood? Is he really part of His beautiful redemption for her?
The thought warms his heart. Yes, if that is true, he is more than willing to devote his whole life making Gyeoul forget her painful past and help her heal. He, Ahn Jeongwon, would make it his life’s mission to erase all the bitterness in her heart and fill it up with the sweet taste of his love and devotion.
Dong-Il exhales slowly but deeply. “When you show her compassion and love, she will never forget it, Jeongwon-ah, as little as she is. People might forget your name but they will never forget how you make them feel. That’s true even with little ones. And that’s already a big help.” He bobs his head up and down for emphasis. “Aigoo, but I hope the father pays for his sins in jail. Poor little girl. I will make sure to pray for her every night. Is she okay now? What is her name?”
Jeongwon shakes his head. “You know I can’t disclose patient’s information, hyung. It’s confidential. I shouldn’t even be discussing this with you.”
Dong-Il nods in his most patronizing voice. “Of course. But it’s not because you are a conscientious doctor who doesn’t spill patient’s information. You’re just not drunk enough to mention your patient’s names even without me asking,” he says, smacking Jeongwon at the back of his head.
“Oww!” Jeongwon yelps. “Ya hyung, are you even allowed to smack someone inside a church, in that cassock? Jinjja!” He whines, massaging his nape.
“I’m just a hyung smacking his younger brother. What’s wrong with that?” Dong-Il deadpans, standing up. “Kaja, bring me to a nice place for lunch. Our cook is on leave today.”
_______________________________
“Did you enjoy dessert?” Jeongwon asks, grabbing Gyeoul’s hand deftly while they walk out of the patbingsoo restaurant.
Gyeoul nods happily, her dimples denting her lovely face. Her eyes behind her familiar glasses are twinkling at Jeongwon as she presses herself closer to him, her face lifting towards his. “Thank you so much for the dinner, too. That galbitang was the best beef soup I have had recently.”
He crinkles his eyes, happy to hear she enjoyed their weekly dinner. Gyeoul has been keeping their agreement to have dinner together at least once a week. She is still focused on her mom and Jeongwon is not competing for attention at all but she knows that spending time with her boyfriend is more a treat for herself than it is for him. Just having him close, watching her as she gobbles down whatever food they share, listening to her stories about patients and her struggles with difficult surgeries while he makes sure her cup of water is always full, is all what she needs to function properly the rest of the week.
“And the dessert is the icing on top,” she beams, lacing her fingers with his as they continue walking the uphill road to one of Jeongwon’s favourite spots in Seoul. “Did I tell you that me and Gaeul loved patbingsoo when we were kids? We have this little shop near our school that sells the best patbingsoo in all of Gwangju and during summer, whenever appa was home on weekends, we always go there just to hide from him. We would spend the whole afternoon there until the sajangnim closed up the store in the evening.” Her voice dips low, suddenly nostalgic, and Jeongwon turns his head to her. He squeezes her hand tight and his eyes turn softer.
He didn’t know that little backstory of course but when he asked Gyeoul earlier after dinner if she wanted to go to a cake shop for some desserts, the patbingsu shop next door caught her attention and she asked if they could go there instead.
“Maybe that’s why even if I don’t really love sweets that much, I came to love this dessert,” she meets his gaze with a little smile. “It has become my comfort food.”
Jeongwon lifts up their joined hands to kiss the back of her hand sweetly. “But you love eating choco pies, too,” he reminds her.
Gyeoul laughs, recalling a memory. “How did you know? Is that why you gave me those choco pies when we had a conference with Prof. Yang and his team before?” She looks at him teasingly.
He readily nods. “Eo. Because I saw you chomping down four choco pies in a row in the first fifteen minutes of the meeting. I figured it was your favourite.”
Gyeoul giggles. “Aniyo. They are not actually my favourite snacks but they are just the ones available to eat quickly most of the time. I can stash them in my pockets to bring with me anytime and they are easy to eat and can be quite very filling too if I eat the right amount. They can last me through a round or two or even a two-hour surgery.”
Jeongwon looks at her with unmistakable fondness. Her honesty and her logic never fail to amaze him. Speaking to her is like talking to his little patients – no filter at all, just unadulterated honesty. She always offers fresh perspectives on things. She calls a spade a spade, doesn’t sugar coat things and she doesn’t have any prejudice. She doesn’t take things personally and in their relationship, she knows how to handle him. He maybe a lot older but he learns a lot from her, especially on being honest to his own self at all times.
She was right when she told him that she cannot lie. She really can’t. Gyeoul taught him that honesty is the first step to finding peace in himself. Ever since they met, she has always stayed true to what she feels. He has seen that each time. Looking back, even when he scolded her in the ER for her poor bedside manners in talking to a guardian, she remained true to herself and to what she believed in. She accepted correction and apologized for her mistake but she chose to stick to her guns that what she said were all facts. She might not have soften the blow for the guardian and might have been callous in asking whether the right first aid was administered but she was right when she told him that she did not tell any lie.
She always tells the truth. This is why when she chose to withhold telling him her story and sharing her burdens to her, he never once doubted or resented her. He knew she was just taking her time and she had her reasons. Even if he knew that her repeated “I’m alright, everything’s okay” wasn’t really the whole truth, he knew she wasn’t entirely lying either. She was trying to make everything okay on her own. She was fixing things like the responsible daughter and noona she has always been. He might not have known the exact problem then but he knew that she was working hard to bear it not because she didn’t trust him but because she just didn’t want to burden him.
That is just so Gyeoul. He might not have agreed with her on that part but he understood where she was coming from. She worked so hard in running away from her domestically abusive past. She worked her way up and become a doctor. She was living the life she wanted, away from the hell she ran away from. What she went through was not something to be ashamed of but it was certainly not something to be proud of either. So much so that sharing it to him would have been such a scary idea. If he were in her shoes, he would have felt the same.
This is why he was so proud of her when she finally opened up to him. Hearing her sob in his arms was heart-breaking but he was grateful that she finally found the courage to be vulnerable to him in that way.
Hearing about her ordeal and what she went through growing up was very upsetting and broke his heart in ways she would never know but he was grateful that she finally found the courage to share that part of her with him.
Gyeoul has a pure heart and he doesn’t even know why she decided to give it to him but he is grateful for it every day. She is a gift he always thank God for in his daily prayers.
“Oh, I can see the cathedral from here, gyosunim,” Gyeoul nudges him as they walk closer to the church.
“Hmm,” he hums in assent and checks his watch. The cathedral closes until nine in the evening on Sundays like today. They still have one hour left.
Jeongwon doesn’t usually go to hear mass in this church as this is a bit far from his place. But a long-time family friend and his eldest brother’s mentor is the bishop in this cathedral so from time to time when has time, he makes time to visit.
Last March, this was the same church he planned to propose to Gyeoul. But since that plan didn’t push through, he decided to invite Gyeoul again tonight for a different purpose.
The cathedral’s interiors are brightly lit and the looming image of the Pieta greets them as they entered the premises. The last evening mass has ended half an hour ago so the pews are now deserted except for a few ladies up front, near the altar, praying.
He leads Gyeoul to one of the pews at the back. He immediately kneels down to pray while Gyeoul settles silently on her seat. She has accompanied Jeongwon a lot of times to church already that even if she is not really religious, she has grown accustomed to his faith. She even knows his rituals already like what he is doing now. Upon entering a church, Jeongwon always kneels down to pray and while she is not expected to do the same, she has silently adapted to the routine to pray too and talk to God, in her seat.
This is one of the things she admires in Jeongwon, his unyielding faith to a higher being. His life revolves around espousing and living out the tenets of his faith. She knows much of Christianity and the Catholic faith to know that Jeongwon’s life is a manifestation of what the bible describes to be a “good Samaritan”. His is a life that tries to give back the blessings he receives, in every opportunity. He doesn’t tell her about all the things he does for the good of others but she hears it from other people and from the way his colleagues, patients and their guardians speak so high of him. He truly lives up to his name as the Buddha of Yulje, the saintly doctor to everyone who meets him.
But in her eyes, he will always be that warm spring day she didn’t know she had been waiting for so long, until that moment they met in the GS medical office two years ago. He is warm, gentle and always loving. Sure they had a rough start and it took a while before he really warmed up to her but she really never resented him for acting cold to her at first. He had explained right after her confession that it was just him coming to terms with his attraction to her and he was torn between pursuing his priesthood dreams or staying at the hospital. He had told her that she was the variable he didn’t know would happen to him that changed the course of his life plans.
“You happened, you were my game changer,” he had candidly answered one time when she asked him what changed his mind. “When you asked me to stay beside you instead of God’s, it felt like He was literally nudging me that there it was, right in front of me, the biggest reason to stay and to accept why priesthood is not His will for me. My patients needed me. Eomma needed me to stay. And above all, my biggest reason, you, was asking me to stay. How could I even say no that?”
Aniyo, gyosunim. It’s you who changed my life, Gyeoul says inwardly, recalling that memory while she looks at Jeongwon’s bowed head in prayer. And I will always thank God every day for you. She turns her gaze forward, to the wooden cross towering ahead in the middle of the altar. For years, in the midst of her suffering and challenges, she has always doubted the existence of God. If He existed, then where was He when she and Gaeul were growing up in fear? What God allows little children to be hurt by their own fathers or for wives to suffer at the hands of their own husbands?
It was only when she met Jeongwon that made her believe in God again. God was real enough to Jeongwon that he even considered throwing his medical career away just to go and serve Him. And as she started getting to know him better and eventually date him, she became convinced that truly, God really does exist because He is such a great influence on Jeongwon’s life. And eventually, she came to admit that meeting Jeongwon and having him love her and date her is nothing short of a miracle that only God can orchestrate. Yes, He really does exist.
But if Lee Ikjun and Minha eonnie are to be believed, I beat you God,” she smiles inwardly while her eyes are fixed upward, at the intricate ceiling of the cathedral. She berates herself for thinking nonsense things like this inside God’s house but she smiles some more. It feels good to think that she really has Ahn Jeongwon by her side now. It still feels surreal, especially in the last few weeks. She doesn’t know if she could have survived the family emergency the way she did without the thought that Jeongwon is by her side. Even if he was clueless about what was happening, just having him check on her through calls and texts and their occasional dinners was enough to give her the strength she needed to carry on another day.
After several minutes, Jeongwon wraps up his prayer and makes the sign of the cross. He turns to her as soon as he opens his eyes, as if checking to see if she is still there. She smiles and stretches out her hand to pull him up to sit beside him.
“There’s a nice garden behind that side door,” Jeongwon whispers to her ear, pointing to the glass door a few feet away. “Let’s go check it out.”
She lets him take her hand and lead her outside.
A little gazebo sits in the middle of the garden surrounded by well-trimmed bushes and a row of flowers in both sides. Jeongwon, holding her hand, walks them to the gazebo to sit.
Gyeoul roams her eyes at the well-lit garden and turns to Jeongwon, “This is where we should have met last time, right? When I had that emergency call from Gwangju?” She knows this is not the usual church he goes to on Sundays because he has never brought her here to hear mass or even just to visit which he often does on weekends. Neither is it his older brother’s parish because she has been there a few times as well.
A flicker of regret passes thru his face and he clamps his lips into a little smile to quickly cover it up. “Yes, the bishop is a long-time family friend and this is one of my favourite churches because it has lovely interiors and this nice garden,” his smile widens. “Don’t you think so?”
She hums her agreement and nods.
“But it’s quite far, as you see, so I rarely come here except when I really want to, or when there’s a special occasion.”
She nods again, clueless of the meaning of his words. Jeongwon reaches for her hand and laced their fingers, bringing them on his lap.
She looks at their intertwined hands and smiles. She always loves it when he holds her hand because when he does so, she feels so secured and cherished. His hands are big and veiny and always warm, never cold, even in winter. And he always holds her hand firmly but gently. His grip is always sure and his thumb caresses and hand squeezes tell her that he is not holding her hand mindlessly. He is always aware, always present for her. And that never fails to warm Gyeoul’s heart.
Jeongwon, true to his promise to her, always shows her affection every day, every chance he gets, and one of her most favourite is when he reaches for her hand just when she least expects it, in the car, while walking, eating or even when they are in the elevator in the hospital or inside his office, at the risk of being caught by anyone.
The gentle touch of his hands always reminds her that she truly found herself a man who is the total opposite of her father and she can never be more grateful for it. Jeongwon represents all the good in a man that she had never known from her abeoji. He was the light to her darkness, the spring to her long winter, the warm fire to her shivering cold.
Her thoughts get interrupted by a soft squeeze of her hand and his thumb grazing hers slowly and repeatedly. She turns her face to him to catch his eyes.
“Gyeoul-ah,” he exhales her name reverently, like a prayer, and the sound instantaneously makes her heart skip a beat. More than a year of dating and his effect on her hasn’t waned a bit but rather it only intensified as time passes by.
“Hmm?” she manages to mumble, squeezing his hand back.
“Did you ever wonder when I first started liking you?” Jeongwon asks, his eyes twinkle along with his smile.
She furrows her brows, obviously taken aback by his question. Her lips form a pensive pout. “Of course I did, gyosunim,” she catches his gaze. “But, kapjagi waeyo? Why are you suddenly asking me this?”
He chuckles, expecting her question. “Keunyang. I just remembered that I haven’t come clean to you yet about how and when I started liking you. And I’m curious why you haven’t asked me about it, too,” he pouts at her. “Aren’t you really curious?”
Gyeoul giggles at his question.
“Hey, what’s funny?” he nudges her, mocking a sulky tone.
She shakes and bows her head. “You just remind me of Lee Ikjun gyosunim. He also asked me the same question before.”
Jeongwon’s frown deepens. “Jinjja? That prick really can’t stop being nosy, huh?” he shakes his head. “What did he exactly ask you?”
“Since when did I start liking you,” she immediately responds, her fingers fiddling with his.
“And what did you say?”
“The truth, of course,” she answers, looking at him. “I liked you the first time I met you. Waeyo? Should I have told him a white lie?” she asks innocently, sending him to laugh softly.
Jeongwon already knew this adorable fact about how her attraction to him began. It was like love at first sight… she had told him before but hearing it again and knowing that Ikjun knew about this fact about Gyeoul before he even did suddenly sparks an annoyance in him, not against his best friend, but against himself.
Suddenly, he is again reminded how much time he had wasted battling against his attraction to her for so long that it made her suffer unnecessarily. If he only acknowledged the feelings quicker, he would have been with her sooner. But then again, he knows that as frustrating as it was, him being in denial of his feelings initially was necessary for him to realize what truly mattered to him. He was an emotional mess when they met. He was like a drift wood thrown aimlessly into the river, swept by the strong currents, not knowing what to do or where to go. He was facing a mid-life crisis and a growing void in his heart was starting too hard to ignore. He wanted his own personal happiness but nothing else he did was doing it for him. He thought being a doctor was his purpose in life but even that was starting to hurt and it became painful & tiring each time a little patient dies under his watch.
Until…
“Well, just so you know, I believe I first started to like you, not romantically maybe, but as a person, when I saw you picking off maggots from that homeless patient’s leg,” Jeongwon reveals, surprising Gyeoul. “I’ve never seen a woman do that with almost bare hands and with a nonchalant face,” his eyes are glazed with awe, remembering that day. “I mean, you were not even squeamish. How did you do that?”
Gyeoul blushes a little at his words, lifting her left hand to massage her nape. “I don’t know. I am just not afraid of insects, I guess?” she says, matter-of-factly. “Keundae, did you really start liking me because of maggots?” Her innocent eyes stare at him curiously.
Jeongwon laughs, throwing his head back. “Yes,” he nods. “I started seeing you in a new light after that. Seeing you attend to that patient without showing disgust or without making him feel that the smell from his rotten leg bothered you or his condition repulsed you told me that you don’t have any prejudice against anyone. That’s the right attitude of a medical worker. That made me realize that I was wrong in thinking that you are tactless and callous. You bear no malice against anyone. Sure, you needed to improve on your bedside manners and it wouldn’t hurt if you learned to be more sympathetic which you eventually did but I think I misjudged you right away when I said to Ikjun that you and I didn’t fit,” he bows his head contritely, remembering his harsh words. “Mianhe.”
She furrows her brows, surprised at the information. “You said that? But Lee Ikjun gyosunim didn’t tell me anything about it,” she pouts.
“And that’s a relief,” Jeongwon lets out a sigh. “You didn’t need to know that.”
“But you’re telling me now, anyway,” she points out, a hint of teasing in her voice. “It’s alright, gyosunim. I know I’m not the most likeable of people and I rarely make good first impressions, not with my blank face and reserved demeanor,” she says, in her usual self-effacing way. “I’m used to it. And I don’t really hold it against anyone.”
“Don’t say that,” Jeongwon is quick to rebut her statement. “A lot of people at work admire you for your work ethics and your skills. All of your superiors speak so highly of you,” he catches her eyes lovingly. “Me included.”
“But you said you liked me because I was brave enough to pick maggots off a man’s leg. Not exactly because of my skills or work ethics.”
His face erupts into a smile. “Yes,” he nods, looking adorably at her. “Yes, I did.” He tucks her fringes behind an ear.
“Even after I disappointed you with the way I talked to a guardian just a few weeks earlier?” she asks, curious. She vividly remembers how his eyes were like lasers cutting her down and how the veins in his neck were just about ready to pop while scolding her.
His eyes dim with remorse knowing what incident she is referring to. “I thought I needed to correct you right there and then. There was a proper way to do and say things to a guardian. And you needed to know that,” his hold on her hand tightens and he exhales a regretful sigh. “Did I come off too strong? Did I scare you?”
She hesitates to respond, but Jeongwon already knows her answer in the way her eyes avoid his gaze and how she bites on her bottom lip. “I knew I deserved the scolding and I did learn something from you that day,” she starts, her voice soft. “But I think I was just scared that I disappointed you for good. I saw it in your eyes then and the way you were cold and aloof to me after that, I knew my hunch was right. I really left a bad impression on you with that one incident. Of all the professors, there was no one else I wanted to like me more than you. And it had to be you who I successfully pissed off with my lacking skills.”
“I’m sorry, Gyeoul-ah,” Jeongwon says, his head bowed in regret and guilt. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”
She gives him a gentle, reassuring smile. “Kwenchanayo, gyosunim. That’s all in the past,” she looks at him with an understanding gaze. “At least now I know you started liking me shortly after that,” she beams at him.
Jeongwon returns her sparkling smile with a grateful one. Trust Jang Gyeoul to be cool about everything. Even when her feelings were visibly hurt. She really doesn’t hold grudges against anyone or make records of wrongs done against her. Unlike you, the supposed to be Buddha of Yulje, a little voice inside him mocks.
Yes, between the two of them, if there is someone who is a much better person, Jeongwon thinks it is Gyeoul, not him. If only more people know about her quiet strength, her one-track mind, her diligence, her perseverance, her resilience and above all, how brave she has always been in rising up from her difficult and painful childhood to become the respected and skilled doctor that she is now.
She suffered so much and went through a lot but she overcame all of that on her own, in silence, without anyone knowing about her pain.
While he… what suffering did he even endure? He comes from a well-off background, grew up healthy and not lacking anything. His family, although not perfect, is very loving. Whatever difficulties or challenges he faced, they were all personal ones that seem trite compared to what Gyeoul went through.
Just like what he said to his brother a week ago, he feels guilty and undeserving to have led a life of privilege when people like Gyeoul, with no fault of their own, had to go through a lot in life.
The pain in his chest remembering her difficult past stabs at him instantly and he grasps her hand, squeezing them lovingly before saying, “And I’m sorry that you had to go through so much growing up,” he starts, finally finding the words he wants to say tonight to her.
Gyeoul turns still at his words. He lifts up his gaze to find hers and she feels a prick in her heart to see sadness reflected in his eyes.
When she told him everything about her childhood and family situation, one of the things she was grateful to see in Jeongwon was the look of understanding and empathy. She was expecting pity and shock, maybe even trepidation, like how Gaeul’s fiancée must have felt, but she saw none of these in Jeongwon’s eyes. He made no big deal out of it and he did not even pry for more details. True to his promise, he did not nag, or even gave his two cents, when she bared to him the ugly part of who she is. He did not recoil in repulsion nor did he give her any reason to doubt that he would stay despite knowing everything.
Her Jeongwon, like the man she falls in love with every day, remained steadfast and calm. He was unfazed by her revelation, only showing a concerned and worried face about her mom’s condition and what Gaeul and she went through, but aside from that, he kept a calm and gentle front.
So seeing sadness in his eyes like this, while he gazes at her lovingly, like she is the most precious thing he has ever laid eyes on, is both taking her breath away and stirring something warm in her she can’t quite identify. Can she perhaps fall in love with him deeper than before? Can she love one man in many ways she soon won’t know where to keep them inside her without spilling them out for the whole world to know?
“Don’t get me wrong, Gyeoul-ah,” Jeongwon tells her softly, his eyes gliding across her face so gently she can almost feel them caressing her skin. “I’m not saying this because I pity you and your situation. No, as a matter of fact, I am just simply awed by your strength," he says, his eyes starting to glisten. “Since I learned about what you went through, there has been no moment whenever I look at you that I did not feel this bursting pride inside of me, thanking you and the heavens that you endured everything and grew up so well.”
He cups her face with one hand, leaning his forehead towards hers. “You grew up so well that when I finally met you, there was nothing left for me to do but just stare at you in awe and pray that God would let me have you.”
Her chin starts to quiver at his words. No one has ever told these words to her before. Not even her mother. For so long, she focused on a goal – to get away from the hell that was their home in Gwangju and live a life away from her father. So she studied hard and worked herself to the bone. Never ever stopping, even to smell the proverbial flowers. She did not have time to do that. All she wanted was a safe place for her and Gaeul, a place where they can sleep without fear, without the noise of glasses shattering, of loud drunken voices or bones cracking in the dead of the night. That was all she wanted for years. And when she finally became a licensed doctor, she wanted nothing more than to maintain that peace, at least, even in her own life and her brother’s life.
So she worked and studied harder. She did not even have many friends, let alone close ones. Building relationships was not one of her priorities. For her, as long as she doesn’t break any laws and gets along with people at work and is not harming anyone, that is enough. She does not make so much effort in getting close or interacting with people because in her line of work, eating and sleeping are higher up in her list of priorities than socializing with anyone.
Besides, she isn’t comfortable in revealing about herself too much, especially her family background, to just anyone, so she didn’t mind being alone. This was why joining online fan clubs is much easier to her because there she can be anonymous and no one would really care.
Minha eonnie was just tenaciously friendly enough to get close to her, bless her heart, breaking into her stoic façade and not minding her upfront and unfiltered ways, that for the first time in her life she was able to have a close friend.
But even with Minha, sharing her wounds still didn’t come easy, so she kept it to herself. Besides, there was no need to share them, she thought. She was not burdened by it anymore. She was far away from Gwangju. Her past could no longer keep up with her.
Or so she thought.
Her mother’s hospitalization shattered all that false security she carefully built around herself. Her father’s abuse was and still is a painful reality she must contend with. And just like before, she bears the burden by herself. Not wanting to involve other people. She doesn’t want to burden others and most of all, she doesn’t want their pity. So, like always, she did not cry out for help.
Even if Jeongwon and Minha were there, stretching out their hands to help. She stood her ground and kept them at arms’ length, stubbornly convincing herself that she could face everything once again, even the looming monstrous ghost of her abeoji’s abuse. She ran away from it once, she could do it again, she said.
But falling in love and loving someone like she loves Jeongwon has made her vulnerable to the one person she can’t close her heart to. One look at him waiting at the GS office after she had a very emotional conversation with her mother was all it took for her walls to come tumbling down.
She could no longer feign being strong, at least not in front of him. For once in her life, she knew she could allow herself to be weak because he could be strong for her, for both of them. Her pent-up emotions long buried behind a wall of self-reliance and self-imposed independence started to seep through the cracks and before she knew it, she could no longer stop herself from letting all of them out. She was wailing, ugly sobbing, in Jeongwon’s arms and his gentle but firm presence was all she needed to let herself go.
With Jeongwon, she finally knew that her vulnerabilities are not things she should be ashamed of but something he is willing to listen to and help to address if she wanted him to.
With him, opening up her bruised, worn-out and tattered heart is easy because she knows he will handle it with the utmost loving care. That is a given. That is just how Jeongwon is.
And now, here he is telling her the very words she has longed for someone to tell her –
“You’ve suffered and endured so much and you did a great job. Thank you for holding on until now. It must have been hard doing it alone. What you went through I could never imagine going through that without being broken,” Jeongwon continues speaking, his hands on her cheeks as warm as his heart. “But you, you did it. You went through a very tough childhood without having your wings broken,” a tear slips down on his cheek. And then another.
He smiles through his tears, embarrassed. “And that for me and the people who love you, is more than enough reason to love you more. You’ve flown far away from all that pain, Jang Gyeoul seonsaeng.” His eyes sparkle with pride and adoration. “And I’m very proud of you. I just thought I’d let you know that tonight.”
Seeing his tears, Gyeoul finally lets her own tears run fresh down her cheeks as well. “Gyosunim,” she starts to say, above a whisper. She wipes off his damp cheeks with her bare fingers. “Why are you crying? Uljimaseyo. My heart hurts seeing you cry.”
Jeongwon chuckles despite his tears, shaking his head. “Is that why you’re crying too?” He asks, his eyes scanning her teary face tenderly. He gently wipes off her tears with his thumb.
“Ne,” Gyeoul promptly nods. She plants a soft peck on his cheek. “I don’t want to see you hurt and crying. Stop these tears now, eo?” She asks cutely, as tears again trickle down Jeongwon’s cheeks.
He tightens his lips and nods. “I’m just sad and hurt when I think of how lonely and scared you must have been back then and there was no one to protect you,” he softly exhales, his teary eyes locking gaze with her own.
“It was,” she affirms, her fingers again brushing away his tears. “But that is all in the past now. Right now, I already have you beside me. And Gaeul is now an adult. He can protect himself, me and eomma now. Unlike before, I no longer have to carry the burden alone, by myself, gyosunim,” she says, her voice cracking. “And I am very thankful for that. I’m thankful for you, most of all.”
Jeongwon gathers her in a tight hug, placing her head on his chest. “And thank you for trusting me, Gyeoul. I know it wasn’t easy to talk about it, but you did, with me.”
She wraps her arms tighter around his back. “It’s me who is more thankful for being patient with me, gyosunim. For patiently waiting for me until I was ready, kamsahamnida. You are my source of strength, you know that, right?” She asks, leaning back a little to look at his face.
Jeongwon’s heart swells and his eyes crinkle with pleasure. “Really?” he asks in disbelief. “But uri Gyeoulie is the strongest person I know. How could I even be her source of strength when she’s stronger than me?” He caresses her head affectionately.
Gyeoul shakes her head, playing along. “Ahn Jeongwon-ssi is my secret power,” she grins at him with the sweet face of a child, reminding him of his little patients when they want to be cheeky with him and his heart bursts with so much love for her all the more.
“Jinjjaru?” He rubs her back tenderly, his heart bursting not only because of her words but also with the way she just addressed him. Gyeoul has not yet stopped calling him gyosunim even outside the hospital but in the past year that they have been together, she has started calling him Ahn Jeongwon-ssi in their intimate moments or when she is most vulnerable, with her guards down.
And tonight, in this cathedral, with her in his arms, it seems like he has earned magic points that made her call him Ahn Jeongwon-ssi again. It has been a while since the last one.
Rubbing both her arms, he looks at her intently, his eyes glazed with all the affection and love he feels for her. “Gyeoul-ah, remember our promises to each other before?”
She nods, her eyes widening in recollection. “Ne. You promised to express your affection at least once a day. Whether it’s big or small, I promised to tell you if anything happens to me.”
Jeongwon nods. “And I’m happy that you have been keeping your promise to me all this time as I’ve tried to keep mine as well,” he cups her face once again. “But right now, I want to promise you one more thing.”
She blinks successively at him, suddenly curious. “What is it?”
He looks at her sheepishly but his eyes are resolute. He has thought about this so many times and he knows he is willing to do this for her, no matter the odds. “I promise to always be here for you, Gyeoul. I promise to protect you and cherish you the way you deserve to be protected and cherished. I may not be able to erase all the hurt you felt or give back to you all the years you lost, feeling all scared and unhappy, but as long as you’ll have me and as long as you want me to, I will try my best to make you smile and to never be afraid again of anything because you are not alone anymore. I am here now. I am and will always be by your side.”
His tears glisten once again with the intensity of his promises, the silent vows he prays to be given the chance to say out loud to her in front of a priest and their family and friends, someday. But that can wait. His proposal can wait a little bit more until her mom is settled and her mind and heart is at ease again.
Right now, all he needs is for her to hear these things from him, in this sacred church, with God listening to his every heartbeat.
Gyeoul looks at him with unabashed affection, her eyes once again brimming with tears, her lips curving into that soft and contented smile he loves so much, and nods. “I promise to run into your arms each time I am exhausted and sad, gyosunim. Or even when I am happy and when I just want to feel your comforting presence,” she makes a promise of her own. “I promise not to hide my burdens from you ever again. As you said, every little or big thing that happens to me, I should tell you about it. And I will.”
“Jalhaesso,” Jeongwon beams at her, kissing her forehead briefly, satisfied at her answer. “But whatever happened to Ahn Jeongwon-ssi,” he asks, lips turning into a small pout. “I swear I heard you calling me that just a while ago. Why are you back to calling me gyosunim again?” He narrows his eyes on her. “We’re out of the hospital and it’s Sunday.”
Gyeoul’s eyes widen, feigning innocence. “What? Did I? When? I don’t think I did,” she insists. “Why would I even do that? We’re in a public place, gyosunim. In a house of worship even,” she emphasizes. “I won’t dare.” She immediately stands up, pulling him up with her. “Look at the time, they’re closing the premises any minute now, I think,” she points to her watch.
Then, slowly, she grabs his right hand with her left and deftly slides her fingers into his once again, interlocking them. “Shall we get going, Ahn Jeongwon-ssi?” she says, her tone coy, her eyes sparkling and her soft, dimpled smile, the one he knows she only reserves for her, blinding him instantaneously.
Jeongwon chuckles, he is too happy and his heart is too full to even rebut her teasing with one of his own. So he simply nods, tightening his grip on her hand. He let her lead him out of the cathedral’s premises.
He has finally told her his vows tonight. And she also told him her own. Jeongwon grins giddily and happily at Gyeoul. She scrunches her nose and flashes her dimples at him, smiling back.
Inside his jacket’s inner pocket, the little green box which he always brings with him in their dates, lays quietly and snugly, bearing witness to their exchange of sweet vows.
For now, that is enough.