22. Jin
Monroe won’t look at me when I approach her at the shoreline. She’s parked herself in the wet sand, knees drawn up to her chest as the cool water laps at her small bare feet. I sit down next to her.
The afternoon is clear and breezy with no rain in sight. Gauzy white clouds streak the sky as the breeze blows in from the sea. The taste of salt lingers in the air as it always does.
We listen to the seagulls squawk in the distance while neither of us makes a sound. We simply sit side by side and watch the sea stretch out toward the glimmering blue horizon.
I clear my throat, eyes still on the water. “When I was a very small boy, my grandmother told me something I didn’t understand at the time.”
Though Monroe remains silent, I can sense she’s listening, so I continue.
“She said you can never keep a butterfly as a pet. That they’re too beautiful, too delicate.
That they’re meant to be free. I didn’t get it, so I caught one anyway.
Bright orange wings with darker spots. It fluttered right toward me, and I decided I would keep it.
It looked like fire when it moved. I put it in a jar.
Thought if I kept it fed—if I kept it safe—it would survive. ”
Monroe sniffles, keeping her gaze straight ahead. “Then what happened?”
“The wing broke off after two days. It died,” I answer darkly.
I sigh and stick a hand through my messy, windswept hair, pushing it away from my brow.
“You’re that butterfly, Tokki-ya. I’ve kept you caged.
I’ve kept you cuffed and dragged you through fire and blood like I could control the chaos by holding you close.
But that’s not the life you deserve. That’s captivity.
And you deserve freedom and peace. You deserve a real life. ”
Her long eyelashes flutter and she pulls her knees tighter against her chest. Subtle moves that communicate she’s turning over my words. She’s realizing what needs to happen.
“I know it doesn’t make sense. I’m sending you away and promising this isn’t the end for us.
But I swear to you—I’m going to fix this.
I’m even going to find a way to stop the Baekho Pa from targeting you.
I’ll bury every last bastard who still wants to hurt you,” I say, the muscles in my chest contracting from tension.
“I just need time. It wouldn’t be safe—or fair—to leave you stuck in this house waiting for me to solve these problems. That’s why I’m sending you away. Somewhere you can breathe a little.”
Only more cries from the seagulls and waves from the sea answer me.
The waves fizz and curl in around our feet.
Pieces of driftwood and jagged stones float ashore.
I scoop up a wet stone with grains of sand slicked onto it and run my fingers over the surface, giving Monroe the time she needs to think.
She leans into my side and drops her head to my shoulder, releasing a soft sigh.
“I know,” she murmurs. She turns her left wrist upward, the mark I inked onto her skin visible. “I get why you’re doing it. But I’m scared. So much can go wrong.”
“Yes,” I admit. “But our happiness is worth fighting for, Tokki-ya. I’ll die trying to make that come true. Do you understand how important you are? I’ll do anything to give you what you deserve. I…”
As I glance down at her, the words jam in my throat.
For once, I’m nervous .
I feel it in my stomach. The butterfly I spoke of has mutated into hundreds of smaller ones, fluttering away inside me. My palms warm up and every breath comes out with more difficulty. I inhale deeply, pushing past these sensory blocks.
Only Monroe would have this effect on me.
“I’ve fallen in love with you.”
Monroe snaps up beside me. Her head turns to face me. The expression on her face is startled, eyes wider than usual, brows higher and lips parted like she’s caught mid-breath. Then a shine sparks in her dark coffee-brown gaze and she slowly smiles.
“Me too,” she says. “I mean… I love you too, Jin. I don’t know how it happened, but you’ve made me fall in love with you.”
I slip my arm around her shoulders and pull her closer. “It’ll work out. Soon, we’ll really be together. And you’ll be free.”
We sit like this for a long time, Monroe tucked into my side, our fingers tangled.
Eventually, the horizon swallows the sun and the sky fades from a golden hue to more violet shades.
But we stay where we are, letting the darkness slip over us, aware that it’s what needs to happen for the future we hope for.
“Where else would you want to teach?” I ask Monroe hours later.
She lies beside me on the bed mat, her head resting on a pillow. Her fingers toy with the edge of the linen sheet between us, twisting it as she thinks. The moonlight paints a soft streak across her face, bathing her round features in its silverish hue.
“I’ve always wanted to teach somewhere in Africa. Kenya, maybe. Even Morocco would be interesting. I’ve read about Tangier and it sounds like such a rich and chaotic place… in the best way. It’d be hard, but I think it could be a great experience.”
I hum, the image forming in my mind—Monroe in the sun, the desert wind in her curls. “Is that wanderlust because your father was in the military?”
“I think so. We always moved around when I was little. It made the world feel huge and like some adventure to explore. I even thought about joining myself at one point. My dad was a linguist and part of me wanted to follow in his footsteps.”
“So what changed?”
“Eli…”
As she murmurs his name, the knot of jealousy twists inside my chest. It’s immediately followed by guilt as I remind myself there’s no need to compete with a ghost. Elijah Turner is part of Monroe’s past. She loved him and they had a relationship that meant a lot to her.
These are things I have to accept. Parts of her that are important to know and understand.
“You knew him from a young age?” I ask.
“We started dating in high school. I thought it was so romantic because my parents met in high school too. But we were really young and I didn’t want to do long distance.
He didn’t either. So we picked the same college and dated on and off for years.
After graduation, we waited until we were settled into our careers and then got engaged. That was before…”
“The accident,” I finish for her.
She nods, quaking out a breath. “It’ll always hurt losing Eli the way I did.
But I’m making peace with it. My mom was right that it’s time I start living for myself again.
I thought I was doing that when I first moved to Korea, but I was still caught up in the past. I wasn’t putting myself out there like I promised myself I would. ”
“You’re a brave woman.” I reach down between us and link our fingers. Hers are much shorter and slimmer than mine, but fit well in between. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
She scoffs. “Sure.”
“Most people wouldn’t be bold enough to move to another country by themselves. Let alone after that kind of heartbreak. But you did it all by yourself,” I say, then pause for the smirk tugging at my lips. “Besides, you fight like hell when attacked.”
Her scoff turns into a bright laugh. “I’m sorry I kneed you in the balls.”
“And almost blinded me with that air freshener.”
“And threw a vase at your head.”
“And tried to stab me with a kitchen knife.”
“Twice,” she adds, giggling. “But can you blame me?! You were there to kill me!”
“Exactly my point, Tokki-ya,” I taunt, squeezing her hand.
“You fought fiercely. Even when that other hitman showed up—you gave him a run for his money. That’s admirable for a little rabbit like you.
It’s good that you’re willing to do whatever it takes to win those fights.
You’re disadvantaged, so you need to pull out all the moves you can to survive. ”
She tilts her chin proudly, meeting my gaze in the dark. “I took women’s self-defense in college.”
“I could tell. That knee to the groin move was textbook.”
Our laughter fades into a quiet lull. I lean in and press her soft lips against mine. After only two nights, we’ve grown used to lying in the dark with only the moonlight and a single candle flickering in the corner.
Monroe snuggles closer and murmurs, “Did you ever serve?”
“Mandatory service. Two years after I turned eighteen. Right around the time I inherited this house.”
“And you still came back to the Baekho Pa?”
“I’d already pledged my life away. From the time I was thirteen, fourteen years old.
The military was a brief detour. I did question if there could be another path for me,” I explain, laying back and staring up at the ceiling.
“But there wasn’t. My family was long gone.
I had no real options. I could never live a normal life after the things I had already done. ”
Monroe hums, resting her head on my chest. Her fingers trace slow patterns across my tattooed ribs. I figure I might as well tell her the other things on my mind.
“The other night… I lied to you.”
“About what?”
“I said I had no memories of this home. That wasn’t true. I was very young, but I remember some things. Most of those things… are violent. My family was murdered in this house.”
My name spills from her lips as a breathless gasp.
I swallow hard. “I was just a boy. Maybe three or four. My father hid me in the wardrobe and begged me to be quiet. Then he stood tall and faced them. Some gangster and his crew. I’m still not even sure what they wanted. But they didn’t leave until they took their revenge. My family’s lives.
“I was helpless. I watched through the crack in the wardrobe door. They had hatchets and cut my family to pieces before my eyes. Blood soaked the floors by the time they were done. Then… it was just silence. I was eventually found and then sent off to the orphanage.”
Her body tenses against mine, eyes glistening with tears even in the dark. I wrap an arm around her and keep her pinned close.
“I didn’t tell you this to upset you. I told you because I trust you, Tokki-ya. More than anyone. And I want you to know me. All of me. Including the bad parts. Things no one else knows.”
She sniffs, then buries her face against my chest. “Thank you for telling me. My heart aches for what you went through… but I’m honored you trust me.”
We fall silent again and listen to the waves crash outside. I close my eyes, Monroe’s breath warm against my skin, and for the first time in years, I slip off to sleep with no heavy burden weighing me down.
It’s a level of peace that would’ve been impossible without the woman in my arms.
Gijang Station is barely more than a lone weathered platform tucked into the hills. Wild grass and pine trees flank the tracks. The place smells of dust and metal with touches of cigarette smoke. From above, the sun hangs high in the sky, another clear summer day.
Monroe hasn’t let go of me since we arrived.
Her bag sits by her feet. The duffel I’d put together for her with everything she’ll need. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the seashell I gave her the other night.
“I’m keeping it with me,” she says, brushing her thumb across its delicate ridges. “Every day we’re apart, it stays in my pocket. Proof this happened. That we’re together.”
I nod, the knot in my throat thick.
“I’ve arranged everything,” I tell her. “You’ll connect at the main Busan Station.
Then take a flight this evening into Taiwan.
I have a friend there—an older woman who knew my mother—and she’ll be able to look after you.
You’ll stay at her home under a false name.
Documents, food, cash. All of it is arranged. ”
Her chin quivers even as she tries to smile up at me. I cup her face in my hand and swipe my thumb over her eye, wiping away a tear before it can even fall.
“I’ll come for you when it’s safe. But until then… we can’t talk. No calls or messages. Not even letters. Not to me. Not to anyone else. It’s too dangerous. All contact will be through my friend.”
“Don’t let us be separated for too long.”
Monroe leans toward me, winding her arms around my waist. I press my face into her curly hair and breathe in the intoxicating scent of her. My fingers curl into the back of her blouse, desperate to hold her just a while longer.
She finally draws back, glancing over her shoulder. “I have to go,” she whispers. “They’re calling final boarding.”
“Alright, yeah… go ahead.”
She turns to start toward the train, but I grab her wrist and wrench her back toward me. My mouth crashes against hers one more time for an impulsive, last-second goodbye kiss. I can’t help myself, the urge to taste her taking over.
Everything about the moment feels wrong. It feels like instead of letting Monroe board this train out of my life, I should be scooping her up and taking her home.
But, rationally, this is what has to happen. This is necessary in order to secure our future together.
When we finally break apart, I rest my forehead against hers, breathing hard.
“Go,” I rasp. “Before I lose my fucking mind and keep you here. I love you.”
She strokes my jaw. “I love you more.”
“I love you most, Tokki-ya. Go. Board.”
I stand back, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket, and let her join the throng of passengers boarding the train.
She gets in line behind a mother with a sleepy child in a stroller and an older man clutching a suitcase wrapped in rope.
One by one, the passengers disappear inside the train car.
The low hum from the engine deepens as the train attendant strides door to door, latching them in place.
Monroe appears in a window, peering out at me with a small, bittersweet smile. I nod at her, my expression empty while my stomach twists into itself.
The train begins to move, slowly at first, then gathers speed, departing the station.
I stand there until it’s a distant blip disappearing out of view. My phone buzzes from inside the pocket of my leather jacket.
It’s an unknown number.
I answer in silence, already aware something’s gone deeply wrong.
“She’s quite special. Your little rabbit.”