Tame – Chapter 2

“Should we… break up?”

It was a snowy winter day when Heeul broke up with Kwonil.

Silence pressed down on the lukewarm air. Kwonil, gripping the steering wheel and waiting for the light to change, stopped the cassette player that was playing music.

“…That’s rather sudden.”

“…….”

“Why?”

He asked calmly.

Heeul, gazing at the snow falling on the night streets, replied.

“I don’t think I’m a suitable partner for you.”

The silence that had settled moments before grew denser. Heeul ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek and shifted her gaze, her eyes landing on the car phone next to the gearshift.

She pulled out a black cell phone from her bag and carefully placed it just below the car phone, the brick-like device easily worth 20 to 30 million won.

“Take this too.”

“…But I gave it to you. Why don’t you keep it?”

“No, it’s okay.”

Heeul shook her head firmly.

Kwonil’s eyes, which had been fixed straight ahead even when she’d told him she wanted to break up, finally lowered. His smooth, low voice brushed against her ear.

“Are my gifts a burden to you?”

“…….”

“Is that why you’re pushing me away?”

A faint ripple passed through Heeul’s eyes.

Pushing him away… Was that really how it felt? So trivial a way to describe it.

With a bitter expression, Heeul lowered her head and shook it.

“I’m not doing this on purpose. I’m serious.”

“Why?”

He asked again, as if genuinely perplexed. Heeul tried to sound as nonchalant as possible as she offered the most insignificant reason first.

“I’m planning to continue studying for the bar exam.”

“Which one?”

“CPA.”

“Ah, the CPA exam?”

“Yes.”

“I can wait for you.”

Heeul’s eyes flickered.

“It’s an exam that takes over four years of preparation to even have a chance of passing. If I focus on studying, I won’t be able to give you much attention.”

“You could pass it in a year if you put your mind to it.”

“Doesn’t your family pressure you to get married?”

“Are you considering my age too?”

“…….”

Heeul’s lips pressed together tightly.

Just then, the light changed. Kwonil stepped on the accelerator, and the Grandeur smoothly crossed the intersection.

“Have I done something wrong?”

As his gentle voice reached her ears, memories of her time with Kwonil flashed before her like a movie. Heeul avoided his gaze, suppressing a growing unease.

Truthfully, Kwonil hadn’t done anything significantly wrong. He was as kind as his voice. He was romantic, occasionally buying her flowers. He’d even bought her a vocabulary book she was hesitant to purchase, saying she shouldn’t be stingy with money when it came to her studies.

It was Kwonil, her junior in college, who had first suggested they date. From an outsider’s perspective, it would seem like Heeul was the one who would regret the breakup more.

However, about a month into their relationship, Heeul began to feel a distinct sense of unease.

Heeul only had a pager. As it wasn’t a device for real-time communication, she had to use a payphone to contact him.

“It’s inconvenient.”

He’d bought her the latest cell phone, saying it was a hassle.

“…This is too expensive.”

“How are you supposed to live in this world without even this?”

It wasn’t a reproachful tone. It was closer to genuine curiosity, an innocent addendum, as if he couldn’t understand why she questioned his gift.

“If you’re not going to take it, I’ll just throw it away. Give it to me.”

When it came to giving her gifts, he was utterly relentless.

Seeing this side of him, Heeul recalled the shame she had briefly forgotten. He would likely never experience the humiliation of having her name posted on the class notice board for unpaid tuition, or the lack of money for textbooks, let alone a cell phone.

That was around the time the embers of her inferiority complex ignited.

She was torn between wanting Kwonil to understand her difficult circumstances and wanting him to remain eternally oblivious.

Unfortunately, Kwonil’s actions, a product of his affluent upbringing, didn’t stop there.

“I put down a deposit. Want to go get your license?”

“What?”

“I put a deposit down on a car.”

“…And? Did you get a new one?”

“It’s yours.”

“…….”

From this point on, she had a feeling that something was very… off.

A car, sure, it would be nice. Driving meant she wouldn’t have to squeeze into crowded public transportation.

But a car that cost half the price of a small apartment in the countryside wasn’t appropriate for a struggling college student’s relationship. Frankly, it would shock anyone, even someone of average means.

“I don’t even have a license.”

“Then get one.”

“Is that something anyone can just get? Why did you decide this on your own-.”

“…….”

“…Um, no. Sorry. I’ll try.”

Though momentarily flustered by her sharp words, Heeul couldn’t shake the feeling that Kwonil was strange.

Had he always lived such a self-centered life?

If so, what could she possibly offer him? What more could she do… No, could she even exist as ‘Lee Heeul’ by his side?

The suspicion that he was more than just a rich man with well-off parents. The burden that accumulated as she compared their situations. The unsettling feeling she got every time she saw him push for what he wanted.

The doubts, which a lover should never harbor, festered for a year, ultimately leading to this breakup.

The yellowish glow of a streetlight slanted through the car window. That’s when Kwonil muttered,

“…Strange.”

“…….”

“I thought things would be fine if I was by your side…”

What’s wrong with you?

He didn’t say it aloud, but she heard it anyway.

Heeul’s spirit deflated at his self-centered remark, which bordered on arrogance. She momentarily wore an uncomfortable expression, unsure if he was ignorant or simply naive, but quickly masked it. He probably didn’t mean anything malicious by it, she reasoned.

She tried to soothe the seemingly confused Kwonil.

“I understand you’re surprised. It’s not common to find someone who does so much for a younger partner. I know that. And it’s not like you did anything terribly wrong to me.”

Heeul swallowed and smoothed her hair with her fingers.

“So, just think of it this way.”

“Think of it how?”

“We were two puzzle pieces that didn’t fit.”

“…….”

“If you really must blame someone, blame me. The end of our relationship is entirely my fault. It’s because my life is so difficult and I’m a flawed person who feels inferior about everything.”

“Heeul.”

“…It’s true to some extent.”

The dark emotions she had suppressed throughout their relationship began to rise like smoke. Heeul crossed her arms and deliberately fixed her gaze on the window.

“One of the reasons I’m breaking up with you is because I don’t want to see myself as inadequate anymore.”

She interpreted Kwonil’s words in her own way and was disappointed.

She’d worried that he didn’t understand her situation, and she’d resented the unfairness of the world. Sometimes she’d study hard, determined to become someone worthy of being by his side, but then she’d sigh, wondering what the point was if they weren’t going to get married anyway.

For a year, Heeul had been consumed by her insecurities, constantly measuring the unbridgeable gap between herself and Kwonil, from their backgrounds to their lifestyles.

Being with him no longer brought her joy. It had become burdensome. She was sick of constantly comparing herself to him.

“So, I thought I should distance myself from you before I go completely crazy.”

“…….”

“I’m truly sorry.”

Heeul apologized and continued.

“Find someone better than me. Someone with plenty of money and time, someone who can give love to others and has room in their heart. Someone who can fully accept the love you give.”

“Is that impossible for you?”

“Yes.”

Heeul calmly affirmed.

“Hardship is more familiar to me than love.”

She probably wouldn’t be able to fully accept love from anyone, not just Kwonil. She had long since grown accustomed to the thorns of a difficult path rather than the gentle caress of an easy one.

Just then, a vertically placed, dark purple sign caught Heeul’s eye.

Ilshin Hall, the dormitory of Daehan University, was just around the corner.

They entered the curved road leading to the back gate of the dormitory. It was a narrow, slightly sloped road where students and other pedestrians frequently passed, requiring careful driving. …But Kwonil didn’t slow down.

Heeul blinked, her eyes darting around as the scenery rapidly changed. She’d been gathering her belongings, assuming he would drop her off at the dormitory after the breakup, but Kwonil drove relentlessly deeper into the side streets.

As they reached an alley shrouded in darkness, Heeul, sensing danger, quickly grabbed the handle above the passenger window. Her head snapped forward.

Screech!

The car came to a sudden, jarring stop.

Heeul’s heart pounded in her chest. If she hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt, she would have surely hit her forehead on the glove compartment.

The palm of her hand, which had been gripping the handle, was slightly red. She frowned at the stinging pain, and a quiet voice reached her ears.

“Ah, sorry.”

“…What?”

“I was… lost in thought.”

Even after nearly causing an accident, Kwonil continued speaking calmly.

“And then a bird suddenly flew out of the alley.”

Heeul stared blankly ahead, wondering if there had actually been a bird. But there wasn’t even a single feather in sight.

“It’s a good thing I didn’t hit it, right?”

“Y-yes.”

She stammered.

Kwonil tapped the steering wheel rhythmically with his fingers, then turned to face Heeul. His light-colored eyes, unusual for a Korean, pierced her.

“Heeul.”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure you won’t regret this?”

“…Yes.”

Heeul answered softly but firmly.

He simply stared at her for a long time without responding.

Just as she had the fleeting thought that she might be sucked into his irises, Kwonil nodded slowly.

“…I see.”

He didn’t beg her to reconsider, weeping and wailing. He didn’t curse her, saying someone as messed up as her would never find love. Only his drooping eyebrows betrayed his slight disappointment.

Kwonil unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the passenger door. He waved at Heeul as she clutched her bag to her chest.

“Goodbye, Heeul.”

“…….”

“See you later.”

Kwonil’s farewell was calm, almost light.

Heeul lowered her eyes and silently got out of the car. She bowed her head and turned away from his car, a gust of snowy wind sweeping over her. She shoved her hands in her pockets, hunching her shoulders as she passed a flickering streetlight.

The sound of the car’s tires faded into the snow.

She hurried through the back gate of the dormitory, quickly showing her student ID to the resident advisor before slipping inside.

At that moment, Kwonil’s parting words echoed in her mind.

“See you later.”

See you… later.

Did he mean they would maintain a normal senior-junior relationship at school? Or…

Heeul rubbed the back of her neck and slowly turned around.

The Grandeur was gone.