Chapter 12: I Was Wrong, Please Come Back
The afternoon sun filtered through the windows of the small cafe nestled in a quiet Seoul neighborhood. The place smelled like cinnamon and roasted beans — cozy, calm.
YoungBok sat at a corner table with his sisters, trying his best to follow their chatter about life, work, and family updates.
But his mind wasn’t really there.
Hyunjin’s sunken eyes haunted him every day. His silence had become louder than ever, and even when YoungBok was holding his hand, it felt like Hyunjin wasn’t with him anymore.
He wasn’t anywhere.
He was stuck in that moment Sherri disappeared.
YoungBok rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a tired sigh. One of his sisters nudged him. “You okay, Bok-ah? You’ve barely touched your drink.”
“Yeah. Just… tired,” he lied, smiling weakly.
“Work stuff?”
He nodded absently.
And that’s when he saw her.
Just past the café door, in the reflection of the glass — a figure with a familiar walk, wearing a beige coat and a black mask.
His heart stopped.
Sherri.
It was her.
His chair scraped against the floor as he stood too quickly, startling his sisters. “I’ll be right back,” he mumbled, already pushing through the door.
He caught a glimpse of her turning the corner, steps fast, shoulders hunched.
“Sherri…” he whispered, breath catching.
He ran.
---
She didn’t notice him at first, too busy digging for her keys, head down.
But when she unlocked her building door and turned, her eyes met his.
Her whole body froze.
The key slipped from her hand.
“...YoungBok?”
He didn’t speak at first. Just stood there, chest heaving, face pale — like seeing her in real life knocked the air out of him.
She moved quickly, trying to close the door, panic flaring in her eyes.
But he stepped forward and gently held the door open.
“Please,” he breathed. “Don’t shut me out.”
“Why are you here?” she whispered, shocked. “How did you—?”
“I didn’t know. I was at the café with my sisters. I— I saw you. I followed you,” he said, his voice trembling.
Sherri looked away, shoulders stiff. “You weren’t supposed to find me.”
“I know.”
She bit her lip, eyes shining. “Please… just go. I left for a reason.”
“I know…” he said again, softer this time. “But please let me talk. Just once. If you still want me to leave after that, I will.”
She hesitated.
And then, slowly, stepped back and let the door open.
---
The apartment was small. Barely furnished. A single couch and a stack of books. It looked nothing like her old place.
Sherri stood by the kitchen counter, arms crossed tightly, keeping her distance.
YoungBok stood by the door, heart pounding.
He lowered his head. “I came to say sorry.”
She stayed quiet.
“I was wrong,” he said, voice cracking. “So, so wrong. The things I said to you… I was selfish. Possessive. I thought I could keep Hyunjin just for myself, and that if I did, everything would be okay.”
Tears welled in his eyes.
“But nothing’s okay.”
She looked away, blinking fast.
“He’s not okay, Sherri. He can’t eat. Can’t sleep. He’s fading… and I know it’s because you’re gone.”
Her breath hitched.
YoungBok took a slow step forward.
“And I know you left because of me. Because I made you feel like you weren’t welcome. Like you were breaking us. But that’s not true.”
More tears.
“You were part of us. The best part. And I ruined it.”
Sherri finally met his eyes. Her lips trembled. “You told me he was only yours. That I had no place.”
“I know…” YoungBok’s voice was thick with guilt. “And I hate myself for it. I was scared. I loved him so much… I didn’t want to lose him. But I didn’t see I was making him lose you.”
He stepped closer.
“I’ve never seen him like this before, Sherri. He’s not just hurting. He’s breaking. And I can’t fix it.”
She covered her mouth with her hand, tears falling now.
“I don’t want to be the reason he loses both of us,” YoungBok said. “And I don’t want to lose you either.”
Her eyes widened. “You…?”
“I’m ready to share him,” YoungBok said, chest heaving. “If it means he smiles again… if it means he breathes again… please. Forgive me. Come back. I’ll never ask you to leave again.”
The room fell silent.
Only the faint hum of the fridge and their breaths filled the space.
Sherri took a shaky step forward.
“You really mean it?” she asked, broken. “Even if it hurts?”
“I already hurt,” YoungBok whispered. “But this pain? Of being without you? Of watching him die a little more every day? That’s worse than anything.”
Sherri stared at him.
Sherri stared at him, torn between the love she still felt and the pain that clung to her ribs like splinters.
Then she turned away, walking silently to the bed. She sat down slowly, hands clasped in her lap, body trembling.
YoungBok didn’t follow her. Instead, he walked over to the small study chair near the desk and lowered himself onto it, elbows resting on his knees, head in his hands.
Neither of them said anything.
Tears streamed down Sherri’s face — quiet, unshaken sobs she didn’t try to hide anymore. Across the room, YoungBok cried too, his breath hitching as he wiped his face with the sleeve of his coat.
The weight of everything they’d done… everything they’d broken… hung thick in the air.
And in the middle of it, between the silence and the sobs, YoungBok reached into his pocket, unlocked his phone with trembling fingers, and sent a single message — a location pin.
Come. Now. Please.
He didn’t need to say more.
Hyunjin would understand.
And as the minutes passed like lifetimes, they sat there — not holding each other, not speaking — just crying in the same room, waiting for the boy they both loved to come find them.
Waiting to be whole again.
---
They waited.
Seconds bled into minutes, and the silence stretched — heavy, aching, filled with all the words they hadn’t said.
Sherri sat frozen on the edge of the bed, her body still trembling, arms wrapped tightly around herself as if holding her own pieces together. She didn’t dare look at YoungBok — couldn’t — because she knew the guilt in her eyes would only mirror the pain in his.
Across the room, YoungBok wiped his face again, still seated on the folding chair like his legs no longer trusted him to stand. His chest ached with every breath. He had cried more in the last hour than he had in years, and yet it still wasn’t enough. Nothing was.
“I didn’t mean for it to be like this,” Sherri whispered suddenly, her voice cracking. “I was just trying to protect you both.”
YoungBok let out a shaky breath. “I know.”
“I thought if I disappeared, everything would fix itself. That maybe… maybe you two would heal without me messing it up.”
He looked up, eyes glassy. “But you are part of us. It’s not whole without you.”
Tears welled in her eyes again. She stood slowly, walked to the little fridge, and pulled out two cold drinks — her hands shaking slightly. She placed one on the table beside him, the other near the edge of the bed, between them.
Then, from the cabinet, she grabbed a half-opened bag of crackers and a few sweets and laid them down as well — a small, clumsy offering of peace.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, standing there, hands folded. “I’m so sorry. Because of me… my favorite couple is hurting. My most precious people are breaking. Please… don’t hurt yourself anymore.”
YoungBok looked at her.
Neither moved.
But something… slowly… began to settle.