Chapter 94 – 94. Love and Hate
“⋯Son, get up.”
“Ehhhhh.”
The shaking of her shoulder wakes her from sleep.
My back hurts.
⋯It means sleeping on the sofa.
In a hazy mind, I get up while chewing on the scenario I thought of yesterday.
Legs⋯ under⋯.
Aww.
“⋯What are you doing?”
“⋯Ugh…”
Because I fell asleep with my sister and my legs entangled, I rolled off the sofa when I tried to get up.
⋯Oh, my head hurts.
“Son. Have you been drinking?”
“⋯Yes?”
“I saw a can of beer on the table. ⋯Did you two drink together?”
“Ah… Yes. ⋯Sometimes at night.”
“⋯Yes.”
Her mother looks at us with worried eyes, then sighs and pulls back the covers.
⋯I don’t see you asking any more.
You seem to have understood just that.
The situation we created.
“Daughter. Wake up. Even if you fell off a sofa, wouldn’t you break it? How late have you slept?”
“Eh.”
“Get up and have breakfast. Because I cooked North Korean soup.”
“Yeah.”
The younger brother struggled with her hands as if to return the stolen blanket, and then put her face on the sofa and slumped.
⋯Are you acting, or are you really sleepy?
I fell asleep after three o’clock, so it seems like I’m really tired.
Still, I’m glad he didn’t fall to the ground like I did.
“Mom… Just an hour for me…”
“Eww, what kind of high school student are you? Why did I sleep more after I became a college student?”
“I’m sleepy…”
“If you’re going to sleep, go to your room and sleep. Don’t do that on the couch.”
“Yes.”
Winter, who was struggling with his eyes closed, barely got up, rubbed his eyes with his hands, and staggered back to his room.
⋯You don’t fall down easily, while you’re tired like that.
At the same time as the door closed, her mother nagged me for two people at once.
“Sleep early. ⋯Don’t drink at dawn. Sleeping late can damage your skin. I am not feeling well.”
“I didn’t intend to drink it at first… But I happened to see it.”
“⋯Eh, let’s eat. Leave Winter to sleep.”
“⋯Yes.”
After going into the bathroom and removing the gob from her eyes, she sat down at the table.
Hot multigrain rice.
North Korean soup, kimchi, and scrambled eggs.
Crispy roasted jogi, leftover jangjorim, pickled plums, and myeongnamul.
Take a look at the side dishes that are too luxurious to eat for breakfast, and put the fish flesh in your mouth.
⋯It’s delicious.
Although it was always delicious.
“Does early taste?”
“Yes. The liver is okay, and it’s delicious.”
“Okay. Peel off the thorns and eat them. Eat some namul and kimchi.”
“Yes.”
Pick up the rice little by little with chopsticks and chew it thoroughly, feeling the savory taste of the barley.
⋯ Was her original food good?
Or did she do well because she did it?
Who prepared the rice and was able to make it so delicious?
“Mom. ⋯Your father is there.”
“Yes.”
“Are you coming next month?”
“Huh. I will come to Korea at the beginning of next month… I will probably come around the middle when the quarantine is lifted.”
“⋯Here?”
“⋯Don’t you like it?”
The answer, “No,” Somehow got stuck in her throat, so she shook her head instead.
⋯ It’s hard to lie.
Even though we do it every day, it’s hard every time we do it.
“If you really don’t like it… I’ll ask Dad to get a room and stay there, so you can tell me. ⋯Because you guys are more important.”
“No. ⋯It’s okay. If you are going to reunite, you should buy it together.”
“⋯Yes.”
Mom looking at me with an apologetic expression.
⋯ I can’t look at you.
I couldn’t stand that stare, so I changed the subject to someone who wasn’t petty and deserved to be beaten.
“⋯I have a question, what kind of person is your father?”
“⋯Your father?”
“No, what… ‘Cause I know nothing Except when I was young, I don’t remember…”
“Um… He was a confident person. Work hard on oneself lively.”
The look of a mother who answers right away without thinking deeply.
Confident, hard-working, energetic…
It was as if she was describing her mother herself.
⋯But why are we born to lively parents and not lively at all?
That’s it, of course.
“⋯Why are you divorced?”
“Your father loves his job, so he must have liked it better than his mother.”
“Why are you with someone like that?”
Ah,
I couldn’t stand it.
⋯I shouldn’t have shown dislike.
But this is unbearable.
“Your dad was handsome when he was concentrating. That’s why mom gave birth to you pretty too.”
“Did you fall for her because of her face?”
“What do you see her mother as? ⋯Your dad. Aside from her face, she was so cool when she was working. Even after she got married. She’s been nice to you guys too, but ⋯, she’s so engrossed in her work that she just can’t break her stubbornness.”
“⋯Why do you want to remarry, what the hell?”
A man who is handsome, cool, and sincere in his work.
I can understand being popular, and I can understand being married to my mother.
However,
I don’t understand why you want to remarry.
Why?
Why are you with someone like that?
“Son, do you want to know?”
“Yeah, what… I really don’t understand.”
“Okay. I’ll let you know. ⋯ Is this a secret you’re going to keep hidden until you give it to her mother’s funeral later?”
“Winter, too?”
“Mommy will tell Winter, so don’t brag about it, she knows to herself. First.”
“⋯What is it?”
The secret that only we know.
Mom put down the spoon and took a sip of water,
For the first time she revealed her true feelings to her son.
“Because I hate your dad so much… That’s why I date him again.”
“⋯ Yes?”
“The four of us live together…, We got a little bit of attention from you guys, we didn’t get treated like daddy, we got a little bit of swearing from you guys…And mom wanted to scold daddy a bit, so I agreed to meet you again.”
Her uncommonly exasperated expression revealed her resentment towards her husband, exasperated with anger.
In a way, rather than her husband,
Like scolding a son or younger brother.
“That person also needs to shed a tear. What do you do if you send money every day? He didn’t contact his bastards once, and now he’s pretending to be sorry ⋯.”
“⋯Mom?”
“He must feel with his own body how much he has done wrong. You did something you shouldn’t have done… And reflect on it.”
“⋯Do you hate mom and dad?”
“I don’t like it. ⋯I hate it, I don’t hate it.”
⋯For that reason,
Are you saying you’re going to take her dad back in?
In the sense of repentance?
It can’t be.
If you are a mother, of course
It means to forgive.
“Once he realizes what he did wrong, he will come to his senses. I’ll wake up and grow up…”
Love and hate
I hate it enough to want to kill it.
Because I liked it, I feel so betrayed.
⋯ Still, the feelings remain.
Dad’s face will be melted in our faces, so even if you don’t like it, it will come to mind.
“You’re the same age as my mother, but you still haven’t grown up? Your dad needs to grow up too. Who will take care of you when you suddenly come back to Korea after being abroad for over ten years? What a scary place Korea is. If you have a lot of money and no one to take care of you like your father, you will be scammed and end up on the street.”
Even if you hate it, does it mean that you are my family, my husband, and the father of my children?
⋯I can get a sense of what it feels like.
I would hate it similarly if Winter suddenly went abroad to study.
But you probably can’t hate it.
There are already countless memories, and the feeling of liking is too big.
Even if you hate
You can never stop paying attention.
“Anyway, son. Is this a lifelong secret? Can you never tell me?”
“⋯ I don’t talk. I have no one to talk to anyway.”
“Okay. It’s a secret, a secret. ⋯I wasn’t going to tell you at first, but I let you know when the two of you ate and sang with your whole body that you hated dad. ⋯ Is it okay?”
“I didn’t drink out of spite. I drank from the glass.”
“If you drink only beer when you don’t even have snacks at home, you’re in trouble, right? It’s my mother’s beer, but she secretly stole it and ate it. If she ate loudly, her mother would have come out and drank with her.”
“⋯I’m sorry. I’ll buy it for you later.”
“⋯When Dad comes, let’s set the table properly and eat. I drink until my dad gets drunk, and when he gets drunk, he hits him with the palm of his hand a few times. They hit me on the back, saying, “What have you been doing, so I didn’t contact you?” I’m going to say that my mother hit me.”
Even if she says this while smiling, looking back, she is a mother who cheerfully passes through that time when she must have been terrible.
A mother who forgives even her father for her unacceptable wrongdoing and wants to go back to her family.
It was respectful.
So…
“⋯Don’t you just want to hit your mother?”
“Ah, it doesn’t hurt that much when mom hits you. I don’t know who gave birth to it. My son, who has a good body, has to hit it hard with the palm of his hand to leave marks on his back and hurt. Mom can’t do it because she’s stronger than Winter. She must hit our autumn the best?”
Come to expect
Could I be forgiven?
We too… Just like Dad.
Could it be that he forgives sins?
“It hurts so bad when you hit my mother’s back!”
“Don’t be rude, what does this hurt?”
“It hurts! Really!”
The pain in the back reminds us of reality.
It can’t be.
The gap between the unacceptable and the indelible sin is too great.
So, mom.
I just won’t get caught…
Please don’t notice⋯.
