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Lee Byeol and Rina join me as I walk out of the studio. “Who was that, Sori-ssi?” Byeol asks. “The boy on the radio.”

“He was my first boyfriend,” I say, keeping my voice casual. “Back when I was in school. He’s not a celebrity.” It’s best to include some truths when telling a lie.

“Oh,” Rina says dreamily. “It must have surprised him to get a call from you. Maybe he’ll reach out to you after this.”

“We’ve both moved on. It’s best to leave first loves where they belong.” I wave my hand in the air. “In the past.”

Rina nods eagerly. “You’re so wise, Sori-ssi.”

Lee Byeol studies me, wearing a thoughtful expression. “Not a celebrity, huh? Strange, but his voice seemed very familiar.”

Seven

For the rest of the week, I relive the moment Woori told Nathaniel he was saved as “Boyfriend” in my contacts. It catches me unawares—on the treadmill, in the shower. And his response,I see.

What did he see? It’s mortifying to think thathe thinksI might still be pining after him. I grab the nearest stuffed animal on my bed and bury my face in its stomach.

“Sori-yah?” Ajumma’s voice travels from downstairs. “Min Sori, are you awake?”

Releasing the stuffed animal, I trip out of bed and open the door. “Ajumma?” I call back.

“Come down! Breakfast is ready!”

I hurry to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. Last night, I picked out my outfit for the day, and I quickly change into the white ruffled blouse and light blue jeans. As I close my bedroom door behind me, my eyes flit to the master suite at the end of the hall. It’s my mother’s bedroom, but she hasn’t slept there in over a month, either because she’s traveling on business trips or staying overnight at the company.

I wonder if I should pack up clothes to bring to her. Is she skipping meals? At least when she comes home, she can have proper meals, as Ajumma is one of the few people my mother will listen to when she tells her she needs to eat. Since before raising me, she raisedher.

I toe on my house slippers at the bottom of the stairs and head across the front entrance to the dining room. Though it’s early in the morning, the chandelier sparkles over an array of dishes that my housekeeper has laid out on the long table.

I pull the chair back from the table and sit down, admiring the spread. Surrounding a small grilled fish on a bed of lettuce are a half dozen vegetables, both pickled and freshly prepared. Directly in front of me is a bowl of beef-and-radish soup, several scoops of thick, fluffy rice, and a small plate that holds a single perfectly cooked sunny-side up egg.

“Thank you for the meal,” I say, before picking up the cool metal chopsticks, cutting off a piece of egg, and placing it between my lips.

“Mm,” Ajumma says approvingly, as she takes the seat opposite me. “Eat lots.”

Ajumma is in her late sixties, and I’ve known her my whole life. My family used to also employ a driver, but my father took Mr. Kim when he left.

My mother got Ajumma and the house. My father got Ajeossi and the car. And they split me.

As usual, there’s only one place setting at the long table. I’ve asked Ajumma to join me for meals, but she refuses. It’s a quiet affair as I reach my chopsticks across the table, my spoon lightly clinking against the rim of the bowl. Not for the first time, I’m reminded of that morning at Nathaniel’s house when he and his sisters had to scramble over each other to grab dishes, filling the air with lively chatter.

“Sori?” I glance up to find Ajumma watching me with a crease between her brows. “You look tired. Are you sleeping well?”

When it’s not dreams of the embarrassing moment on the radio show, it’s dreams of New York, not just that morning at Nathaniel’s house, but the night before, when I saw him at the restaurant for the first time in several months. How at first it was awkward, because we didn’t know how to act around each other, but then, as we worked together to protect Jenny, and later as he teased me at his house, it was like having a glimmer of what we were like before, when we were friends.

“I’m fine,” I say. “I’ll go to bed earlier tonight.”

She clicks her tongue, clearly not satisfied.

“I’m seeing Gi Taek and Angela today,” I say to distract her.

It works because her expression immediately brightens. She met Angela and Gi Taek when I brought them to the house, where she proceeded to thank them for being my friends. Gi Taek likes to remind me of this moment as often as possible. She’s also met Jenny, who stayed with me last summer when she wasn’t at her grandmother’s. I’d caught Ajumma looking in on us with actual tears of joy in her eyes. It’s embarrassing, but I can’t blame her. Before Jenny, who came as a package deal with Gi Taek and Angela, I hadn’thadany friends. Well, besides Nathaniel and Jaewoo.

“Actually, I need to leave soon if I’m to meet them on time.” I place my chopsticks on the chopstick rest.

“Yes, of course!” she says. “You mustn’t keep them waiting.”

Feeling a sudden rush of affection and gratitude, I move around the table and press a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you for the meal,” I say.