Wonyoung came by again the next day.
Gaeul felt uneasy but she had no valid reason to tell Wonyoung to leave. She could have been fine with this if the younger woman didn’t try to keep talking to her, lingering by the counter as she ordered another black coffee.
But Gaeul remained the same, serving the coffee as always, responding politely but not letting her in. Unmoving, unaffected, emotionally unavailable.
Wonyoung stayed for two hours, said a soft, yet hesitant goodbye then left.
Gaeul didn’t say anything back.
She just went back to work.
It was probably nothing.
//
Wonyoung arrived again the next day.
She wore a lighter looking coat this time. Makeup was just right; her hair was down. She didn’t speak much, just ordered the same thing. Black coffee. Then she brought it to the table by the window, took the book she bought days ago and read it in silence.
Gaeul did her usual thing, cleaning, grinding, pouring, waiting. But not once did she try to stare at the table by the window.
Wonyoung stayed for two hours, said a soft goodbye to Gaeul then left.
Gaeul wasn’t able to say goodbye.
But she went back to work.
It was probably nothing.
//
Wonyoung wore a darker coat that afternoon.
She ordered the same thing.
Coffee. Black.
The same book was in her hands, Gaeul noticed the bookmark that was in the middle. Wonyoung took the coffee, said a soft thank you, then went straight to the table by the window, reading in silence once again.
Wonyoung stayed for another couple of hours, said her goodbye and left.
Gaeul refused to say anything.
She turned around and went back to work.
The weather was unpredictable. Sometimes it rained, sometimes it didn’t. Sometimes it made Gaeul feel more than she should.
It was probably nothing.
Gaeul wasn’t stupid.
It was on Wonyoung’s sixth visit where Gaeul stopped telling herself that it was nothing.
The bell chimed, heels against the wooden floors, quietly approaching the counter. Gaeul didn’t move from her spot, didn’t need to turn around and check.
“Coffee, black?” she asked instead, hand already reaching for a cup.
For a moment, she thought she was talking to a different person, or no one at all. There was a brief pause until—
“Yes, please.”
Gaeul knew she shouldn’t, but she still turned her head to glance at the counter. Wonyoung was standing by the same place by the counter, a sheepish look on her face, but solely looking at her.
That made her sigh, her mind going through several things at once, but she managed to stop it before she gave it a second thought.
Wonyoung was never good at pretending, and it was now obvious to Gaeul that she really was, and she couldn’t hide it anymore.
She turned to the machine again, grabbing the pot and pouring the coffee into the cup.
“You’re not asking me what I want to order anymore,” Wonyoung said after another pause.
Gaeul noticed the tone of her voice as she spoke. Wonyoung was probably trying to see if their conversations could go somewhere else. But Gaeul didn’t know what to do about it. If it were true.
“You ordered the same thing five days in a row,” Gaeul answered bluntly.
Silence.
“Right.”
Gaeul didn’t reply.
“I’ve been coming back here that many times?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She let out a weak laugh. “That’s embarrassing.”
Gaeul shrugged, placing the cup of coffee in front of Wonyoung, retracting her hand immediately. “It's fine.” She turned away. “People come and go. Some are the same, some are new.”
Wonyoung carefully took the cup of coffee, the steam wafting through the space between them. She glanced at her. “Do you remember them?”
For a moment, Gaeul took the risk and looked at Wonyoung, there was something in those brown eyes of hers, something she couldn’t find. A feeling she had before but suddenly felt like it was missing. “Sometimes,” she replied, muttering her response.
“Were you keeping track of my visits then?” Wonyoung asked, still careful and observing.
It didn’t sound like she was teasing or implying anything. It was like Wonyoung wanted to test the waters that separated the both of them.
Gaeul stared at her for a moment, wanting to react, but she chose not to. “I notice patterns.”
There was a split second where she felt her chest getting heavy. Because Wonyoung should know this. But why would she expect anything? It wasn’t a surprise if she forgot that about her. Or everything about her.
Wonyoung responded with a nod, as if she was struggling to figure out what else to say. But the silence between them stretched long enough.
By this time, Wonyoung should have taken her coffee to the table and continued reading her book—if she really was reading. Instead, she remained standing there by the counter, letting the silence consume them. Gaeul should have said something so she could leave. But for some reason, she didn’t. She kept quiet. Not entirely letting herself pull away, not trying to push Wonyoung away.
It was an internal struggle. Because no matter how hurt and guarded she may be, a part of her wanted to know what Wonyoung wanted.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You already did,’ Gaeul answered back immediately. With a sigh, she grabbed the cloth to clean the counter again. She tried to be blunt about it, hoping Wonyoung could finally take a hint. But before she could fully look away, she noticed the tug in Wonyoung’s lips, like she found it funny. But it disappeared the moment it appeared.
Wonyoung bit her lower lip, taking her time. Deciding. Then she sighed. “Why didn’t you reach out?”
That made Gaeul stop wiping the counter.
This was probably the part where she should get mad. To let Wonyoung know that she had no right to ask that question. Or to act as if she wasn’t the reason they were like this now.
Gaeul refused to look at her this time. “You’re a busy person,” she lied. “Why would I bother you?”
Silence.
No one dared to push.
But Wonyoung tried again. “I… I would have still replied.”
Gaeul scoffed, but quiet enough for only her to hear. “Would you really?”
Silence again.
She lifted her gaze, watching carefully as Wonyoung struggled to give an answer immediately.
Nothing.
Her chest ached in a familiar way that she wished she could forget.
“That’s why,” she muttered, turning her back this time, approaching the coffee area, grabbing the empty cups, cleaning whatever could be cleaned. She just needed to get her hands moving or else she would start thinking deeply.
When she came back to the counter, Wonyoung was still there, and she paused, seeing as the younger woman was about to say something.
“Have you…” Wonyoung’s voice trailed, unsure. “Have you thought about it? Messaging me?”
Of course she did.
She wanted to do a lot of things just to get answers.
There were a lot of moments when emotions almost took the best of her, but she managed to lasso her heart in before it made her do something stupid.
Wonyoung’s actions were clear answers for Gaeul.
Being left alone.
Not given any answers, wanting to know why.
Crying herself to sleep because—
“Yes,” she suddenly said, the word slipping through her lips before she was able to take it back.
The pain in her chest returned. The memories of the past were now barreling in, demanding for the walls to be taken down, damaging it bit by bit. The cracks were there, growing, spreading throughout; the pounding was relentless. Gaeul was only one woman, and she used everything in her to keep the walls standing.
That was her mistake. She said too much.
Gaeul shook her head. “But it wasn’t necessary,” she quickly added, trying to recover. Her expression hardened. “Since we all moved on.”
“Have you?”
The question made her think. It made her mind quiet. Everything was still, it was quiet, calm. But the ache was there, gradual, throbbing, real.
For a moment, Gaeul wasn’t sure how to answer that question. Teetering between not wanting to or because she really didn’t know how to answer it.
These were the parts of her life that she had to remind herself that there were emotions she felt, emotions that felt wasted. Tears fell when she tried her best to stop them. Where her chest ached at moments she wished it didn’t, that the pain was so intense that she thought she was going to die.
But it made sense to her that she reminded herself about these things. Because then it helped her remember that she sorted these feelings out years ago.
This wasn’t supposed to happen again.
Wonyoung shouldn’t be doing this.
Not again.
“Yes,” she said, finally. Firm and certain. She took a step back, creating more distance between them despite the counter in the middle. Her expression hardened again. “I have things to do. If you’re staying, the tables are free.”
At that moment, Gaeul built the wall back up. High enough. Reinforced. Sturdier. No chances for cracks. Not enough for the banging to break or crack it again. She made sure that nothing else could penetrate it. She needed to make sure she wasn’t going to slip like that again. She didn’t want Wonyoung to think there was another chance for whatever this was.
Wonyoung was a customer.
Just a customer.
Wonyoung looked at her for a moment, something flickering behind those eyes. Gaeul refused to see past them. Wonyoung looked away first, nodding. “Right,” she answered quietly, taking the coffee from the counter and stepping back as well. “Thank you.”
Once Wonyoung walked towards the exit instead of the table, Gaeul felt herself relax for a moment. But she still held her breath.
The bell chimed once more. The door closed. Wonyoung’s figure was getting farther and farther until Gaeul’s vision wasn’t focused anymore.
She grabbed her pen, then the papers that she left ignored. She forced herself to focus on the words, for her mind to drift off whenever she wanted.
But words were just words, and Wonyoung’s words refused to fade away. A feeling that reminded her that these were things she sorted away, carefully, precisely and definitive—suddenly, they were dragged out of the grave and left out in the open for her to feel once more.
The car door closed with a soft slam.
Wonyoung sat in silence, the kind that consumed her and made everything louder than she wanted it to. She didn’t turn the car on yet. She just sat there, looking at a distance, hands gripping the steering wheel, and recalling each thing that happened in that situation.
Wonyoung realized that she didn’t want to leave.
She kept looking for more reasons to come back, and to stay. Going through the shelves to absentmindedly look for a book, taking her time finishing the coffee, pretending that she was reading when she realized she didn’t know what she got from the shelves.
That day.
She knew staying wasn’t the right idea.
Gaeul still gave her the chance to stay, sit by the window, and finish her coffee. She didn’t want to leave either, she wanted to spend a little more time there. But there was something in Gaeul’s expression that made Wonyoung believe that she had to leave.
She moved on.
But she thought about it.
Wonyoung wasn’t sure what to do with this. A feeling that was rushing to resurface, but she couldn’t grasp something she never understood in the first place. How was she going to deal with this without making any more mistakes?
Her mind was all over the place. But one thing was consistent.
The bookshop.
Between the shelves.
Through the pages of the books.
The coffee.
Gaeul.
Something inside of her feels certain.
It wasn’t confusion, nor hesitation. Something that felt steady. Definite.
Even if she moved on, Gaeul thought about it.
That should mean something and Wonyoung wasn’t going to turn away from this. Not anymore.
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