Chapter 28 Monroe
One Month Later…
June in Philadelphia brings sunshine and warm temperatures before things truly heat up in July and August. The days gradually become longer as the sun sets later and people stay out more.
I’m one of those people as I turn down the familiar sidewalk toward my apartment building. When making the decision to move back to Philly, I decided on my old neighborhood. Just a few blocks down from Mom’s townhouse.
It’s strange how several years have passed, yet the area still feels the same. Though I guess it’s not too big of a surprise considering I grew up here.
I push open the main entrance to my building and pass by Ms. Lindberg from 5E, who’s out walking her yappy little Pomeranian. She smiles and makes an offhand comment about how things’ll be heating up soon. I offer the same kind of friendly smile and continue on my way to the elevator.
Before I returned to Philly, I wasn’t sure how easy the transition would be.
The practical aspects have been easier than even I thought.
Things like apartment hunting and setting up utilities.
Job hunting has been a job all on its own, but thankfully the Philadelphia school system seems to be desperate for teachers right now, which means I’ll probably have an offer sometime soon.
I’m not sure I’ll love it as much as I did teaching at Suyeong Academy, but those are times I’ll have to put behind me.
That can be said about a lot of aspects of my life as I make this transition.
My apartment is small, but I’ve settled in as much as I can after only a couple weeks.
It’s a simple one bedroom with basic amenities and manageable rent.
I’m mostly done unpacking and furnishing the place, though I still need to hit up IKEA to see if they have a desk that could work for the corner space in the living room.
Mom’s been instrumental in helping me settle in, usually my second opinion as I’ve tried to make my apartment a home. Most of my old friends from the area have either moved away themselves or gotten married and are too busy with their own lives.
Kelly and I still keep in touch, which honestly has been a lifeline on days I need someone more than Mom to chat with. She and Hyun-woo are still together, slowly recovering from the trauma they endured at Myeong-su’s hands.
She sent me a housewarming gift last week to celebrate my move: a set of wine glasses, a bottle of red, and a card that said “it’s wine o’clock somewhere” with a little hand-drawn clock where all the numbers had been replaced with tiny wine bottles.
It was so Kelly that I couldn’t help laughing and uncorking the bottle to have a glass.
I unlock my door and step inside, kicking off my sandals with a sigh of relief due to my achy feet.
I probably won’t be going anywhere else for the rest of the day, which means comfy PJs, some TV, and the leftover Jamaican food in the fridge from the spot down the street.
Basically how I spend most nights lately.
I’m only a couple footsteps across the living room when there’s an abrupt knock at the door. My frown is automatic as I turn back, confused by who could be outside my door when I just came home barely two minutes ago.
Padding back over, I rise on tiptoe and peek through the peephole.
I’m not sure what I’m expecting to see on the other side, but what I do see almost makes my heart stop.
There’s a tall and tattooed man standing on my doorstep with dark unruly hair and almond-shaped eyes. He’s dressed in all black and looks like he walked straight out of some sexy K-drama thriller.
It’s Jin, waiting on my doorstep for me to answer.
Which feels impossible as my brain short circuits and tries to make sense of it.
I’m in America. Philadelphia.
How the hell is he…? Did he really hop on a plane and follow? Why now?
My pulse kicks into overdrive, and my stomach does complicated somersaults as a moment goes by where I’m in limbo. I’m stuck as to what to do or how to react.
Jin must sense this from the other end of the door because he calls out to me.
“Monroe,” he says. “I know you’re at the door. I can almost hear your breathing.”
My hands clamp over my mouth as if there’s any hope to conceal myself and the jig isn’t up. Then I realize how ridiculous I’m being and accept that it is.
The jig is up and I have to make a decision.
Do I let Jin in or am I dedicated to keeping him in the past like I’ve told myself I am?
I’ve spent the last month trying to convince myself I’m moving on. Putting an ocean between us was step one. Settling into my new life in Philly was supposed to be step two.
Yet now that he’s turned up on my doorstep, suddenly my heart is aching as if I haven’t spent weeks—and the months before that—trying so damn hard to get over him.
Move past the tragedy our relationship turned into.
With a defeated sigh, I reach out and undo the locks. The door draws open, and we’re face-to-face for the first time since I said goodbye in his hospital room.
Immediately, I’m short on air. My skin prickles with awareness and the natural impulse I have to be in his arms.
It’s a conscious effort to resist. Remain composed and hold strong, at least on the outside.
He… looks good.
Better than the last time I saw him, though that’s probably a given considering he was fresh from his near fatal fight with Myeong-su. The bruises are long faded, and the swelling has gone down; even his shattered cheekbone is more or less back to its usual sharp angle.
His hair’s grown a little longer than usual, falling messily across his forehead even more than before.
It doesn’t occur to me until he speaks that I haven’t even bothered to invite him in.
“Monroe,” he says, “do you have a moment to talk?”
“Uh… yeah, sure. Sorry, come in. I’m just… I’m surprised to see you, and I… you know.”
He nods in understanding as I step aside and allow him entry. I stare at him as he steps into my apartment with the same smooth, confident gait he’s always possessed. The walk of a man who is lethal and knows he is, and who used to turn me on with something as simple as how he moved.
Still does.
My skin flushes as I draw another deep breath and shut the door.
“Did you… um, did you really hop on an eighteen hour flight just for a moment to speak?”
“Yes,” he answers simply.
“There’s this invention called phones, Jin. Was that really necessary?”
He stops a few feet into my living room and then pierces me with a look that makes my stomach ripple with nerves. “Yes,” he answers again. “What I have to say needs to be said in person. Face to face.”
“You had plenty of opportunities before,” I point out, crossing my arms like a shield. “You know, when I lived in South Korea.”
He’s turned for a curious appraisal of my apartment.
His dark eyes rove over the compact space, sliding from the galley kitchen to the wide open floor plan of the living room and how I’ve decorated it.
In some ways, I’ve replicated the style we had in our apartment—sleek and simple furnishings with neutral colors and then lots of plant life and homey touches like throw pillows and candles.
He seems to notice this too as his stare lingers on the wall shelf arranged almost exactly like ours was.
“Your apartment is nice,” he says.
“It’s a work in progress. But it’s kept me busy.” I search for something else to say, landing on the first thing that comes to mind then almost regretting it. “You look good. I mean… better than last time. You know, in the hospital?”
Real cool, Moni. Real smooth.
Jin nods. “It was hell recovering, but I’ve survived worse injuries. You… you also look… well.”
Our small talk peters off as we meet each other’s gaze again, and it occurs to me that I’m not the only nervous one.
For all his fearsome tattoos and sleek black clothes, his confident gait and composed disposition—Jin’s nervous too.
Incredibly so.
I realize this as he trails off, clearly uncertain what to say and how. Obviously wanting to tell me much more than he has.
“Jin,” I say, “what are you really doing here? You didn’t fly halfway around the world to stand in my living room and tell me I look well.”
He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck. Another telltale sign of his uncertainty.
It softens me to him. Makes me realize that, no matter how hard he tries, he’ll never completely shut himself off emotionally.
…maybe from others, but not from me.
“Because…” he says slowly. “I need to tell you things. Things… I should have told you a long time ago.”
“Jin—”
“Things that were on the tip of my tongue many times before, but I could never get them out.”
My right brow raises in curiosity, and I fold my arms again. “Like what?”
He draws a deep breath as though still battling how to word what’s on his mind. My heart constricts in response as I wonder if he ever can get there; if he ever can reach a place where he’s truly able to open up and give me what I need.
“People think,” he begins, then impatiently runs a hand through his hair.
“They think I’m brave. Fearless. The great Silent Hunter who isn’t afraid of anything.
” A bitter smile twists onto his lips as he holds my gaze.
“But really? I’m a coward, Monroe. When it comes to being open, to being vulnerable and letting someone in—I’m a coward. ”
“I’m not just someone, Jin. It’s me. The woman you said you love. Who you asked to marry. Who was pregnant with your son.”
“I know,” he answers, his voice growing huskier. Thickening with frustration. He starts pacing. “I know. I’ve agonized over it. I’ve spent entire nights awake, enraged with myself that I failed you and didn’t give you what you needed. Why was I like this? Why couldn’t I do it? Was I that broken?”
Yet another ache hits me, and I whisper, “I never thought you were… not to me.”