Chapter 20 – Before We Go Home
The breeze from the open balcony brushed Erica’s face as she listened to the city murmur below. Seoul was always alive—honking cars, passing footsteps, faint chatter. But tonight, everything felt still, like even the world was holding its breath.
Inside the apartment, Jepoy was quietly folding clothes. His duffel bag lay open on the bed, half-packed.
“Two more days,” Erica whispered, as if saying it louder would make it more real.
Jepoy nodded without looking up. “Yeah. Manila’s waiting.”
She didn’t reply. The silence wrapped itself around them, not uncomfortable—but heavy.
When Jepoy finally looked up, she was staring out the window again, fingers brushing the railing like she was trying to memorize it. He watched her for a moment, then spoke gently.
“Erica,” he said. “Before we go home… I want to take you somewhere.”
She glanced at him. “Where?”
“Jeju Island.”
Her brows lifted. “Jeju?”
He smiled, a little sheepish. “Yeah. It’s... beautiful there. Quiet. Far from the city noise. I want you to see it. Before all of this ends.”
“All of this?” she echoed.
He walked toward her, pausing by the window. “This time we’ve had. The peace. The mornings with coffee and braille and drums. Us.”
Her lips parted, but no words came.
“I know we’re going back to Manila with heavy things,” he continued. “Family, broken ties, unfinished stories. But before we return to that... can I have just one more memory with you?”
She turned toward him. “Are you sure it’s not just you trying to delay going home?”
He chuckled under his breath. “Maybe a little. But mostly, I just... want to be with you somewhere the world can’t reach us. Even for just a while.”
There was something unspoken between the lines—something he didn’t want to pressure her into hearing. But she felt it anyway.
A pause passed.
“Okay,” she said softly. “Let’s go.”
He blinked. “You mean it?”
She smiled. “I’ve never been to Jeju. Might as well go with someone who’ll make it worth it.”
Jepoy grinned, unable to stop it. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning, early. I’ll book everything.”
“You don’t have to,” she said. “I can share the expense.”
“No,” he said, more firmly. “Let me do this for you.”
She tilted her head. “Because you pity me?”
His expression shifted. “No. Not because of that.”
“Then why?”
He hesitated, looking away. “Because every day I’ve spent with you here felt like something I never thought I’d deserve. And I want to hold onto it a little longer.”
Erica’s breath hitched.
“I want you to smile somewhere with the ocean behind you,” he added. “Somewhere far from stolen assets, fake friends, or letters that break your heart.”
She opened her mouth to answer, but instead, a soft laugh escaped her lips. “You sound like you’re writing a script.”
He grinned. “Maybe I am. But only because I don’t know how else to say... thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being here. For letting me in. For not seeing me as just the boy who played drums in church once.”
She smiled, touched. “And thank you for not seeing me as just the girl who lost her sight.”
They stood there for a while, the hum of the city beneath them. The air between them buzzed with the closeness of something they both felt but hadn’t named.
He broke the silence again. “I booked us a place near Hallasan. It’s got a garden and a rooftop. I thought we could walk by the sea. Maybe write our names on the sand.”
She laughed softly. “You’re dangerously romantic for someone who claims we’re just friends.”
He froze, unsure how to respond.
But Erica’s tone was light, even if her eyes weren’t.
“We leave at 7AM?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yeah. I’ll wake you.”
“Okay.” She stepped away from the window, walking past him slowly. “Then let’s go make that memory, Jepoy.”
He watched her go, his heart beating hard behind his ribs.
Because when she said “Let’s,” she hadn’t said it like a goodbye.
She’d said it like a beginning.
The following morning, they would board a plane to Jeju Island together—her with her cane and quiet confidence, him with his worn backpack and hidden longing. Two souls, slowly realizing that maybe friendship was just the surface of something deeper, waiting for the right place and time to bloom.
ns216.73.216.251da2
