Page 13 of Perfect Happiness

“As far as I’m aware, you need the signed consent of both biological parents to do full adoption.

Think about it from your ex-husband’s point of view.

He’s basically relinquishing all blood ties to his daughter.

You really think he’d be willing to do that?

He’s not crazy. You’re asking him to hand over his only daughter.

He’s not just going to say, ‘Yes, yes, of course.’ ”

The color was draining out of Wife’s face. Daggers appeared in her pupils. These were signs that she was losing her cool.

“What if I get him to sign?” Wife paused for a moment before continuing. “Will you sign then?”

Eun-ho wavered slightly, but he had no intention of changing his mind.

“No.”

“No?”

“This won’t end with my agreeing to it. The fundamental problem is Jiyoo.

Haven’t you thought of the possibility that Jiyoo might grow up to resent us?

How do you think she’ll feel when she finds out that we cut her off from her biological father, who may I remind you is still alive?

Haven’t you thought about how much it will hurt her?

Why do you have to have everything your way?

Jiyoo might be your daughter, but she’s not your property. She has her own life.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

Wife twisted her lips as she smirked. Her glare was darting back and forth between his right and left eye, carving lines into his cornea with a razor blade. Eun-ho could feel her breathing starting to tremble. He could even smell the sour odor of perspiration on her pale skin.

Eun-ho couldn’t help but admire her. Her entire body was perfectly coordinated in expressing her emotions. When that emotion was love, her body gave him bliss, and when it was rage, her body dragged him into the fiery pits of hell. Even though Eun-ho knew this, he couldn’t stop.

“If I were Jiyoo, I wouldn’t forgive you. Never.”

Wife got down from the bed. She started a series of rage-filled verbal attacks.

“Don’t pretend you’re thinking of Jiyoo.

I know you don’t accept Jiyoo as your daughter.

You shower your son with affection, but you treat my daughter like the neighbor’s kid.

You think I wouldn’t know? I’ve never seen you affectionately hold her hand.

You don’t even smile when you look her in the eye.

You’re exactly like your mom. I’m sick and tired of you and your mother’s hypocrisy. ”

Eun-ho walked around Wife and went into the living room.

He locked the door so she couldn’t come in.

He thought they would start fighting in hand-to-hand combat if she hit him again.

The next day, Wife left the house. That was her fifth time doing so.

If her sister Jane hadn’t come to see Eun-ho, he would have just assumed she was at her mother’s house.

Yuna, where on Earth did you go?

This question, which Eun-ho had asked himself dozens of times over the past week, appeared again in Eun-ho’s mind.

He turned to look at the kitchen. Wife was just coming out of the kitchen with a tray of tea.

Perhaps she went to her ex-husband’s place to have him sign the adoption papers.

Would she really have spent five nights there holding out until he signed?

And even if that was true, Eun-ho wasn’t sure what it would change.

“Is Noah asleep already?”

Wife put the tray down on the living room coffee table. Eun-ho examined the cookies and three cups of tea. Each cup was a different color: red, blue, yellow.

“Have some tea.”

Wife offered the yellow cup to Eun-ho’s mom and the red one to Eun-ho. It smelled tart yet sweet. Probably quince tea. Eun-ho’s mom took a sip then looked at Wife.

“Did you make this?”

“If you like it, I can pack some for you when you leave.”

Wife picked up the blue cup and sat down next to Eun-ho. A sudden silence fell over the living room. It was a long and awkward silence. The only sound in the room was the offbeat rhythm of people blowing on hot tea.

Eun-ho’s mom was the first to put down her cup. She was also the one to break the silence.

“It’s late, so let’s finish what we were talking about earlier. Noah. What are you going to do about him?”

With her teacup nestled between two hands, Wife smiled at Eun-ho’s mom. This was her characteristic smile: toothy with crescent-shaped eyes. She looked calm and relaxed. Even her voice as she answered had regained its usual softness.

“I always do as Eun-ho says.”

Eun-ho almost choked on his tea. The hot liquid burned his airway. Wife had simultaneously thrown two balls at him from opposite directions. One ball was the claim that Noah’s stay at his grandma’s was Eun-ho’s decision, and the other was a warning to Eun-ho to behave himself.

“Is that so?”

Mother turned to Eun-ho. Wife was looking down at her blue cup, as if to take a step back from the action. Eun-ho decided not to behave himself.

“You’re going to take Noah by the end of this month, right?” Eun-ho’s mom asked him.

Eun-ho sucked up the last drops of tea in his cup. A bittersweet aftertaste lingered on his tongue.

“Yes.”

Wife raised one eyebrow and glanced at Eun-ho out of the corner of her eye.

And that was it. She didn’t add to what he said, nor did she refute it.

Eun-ho put the cup down on the tray. He was bothered by the brown color of the tea, which reminded him of dried blood.

Eun-ho knew almost nothing about China, but there was one thing he was sure of: Wife would never use teacups painted with primary colors like this.

“Good. Then I’ll expect him gone by the end of the month.” She stroked Noah on the head and then clicked her tongue. “Poor child. Who’ll stand up for you now?”

“More tea?” Wife asked.

“No. It’s almost eleven. I should sleep.”

“I’ve made a place for you to sleep in Jiyoo’s room on the second floor,” Wife said as she put down her teacup and stood up. “Goodnight. Noah will sleep with Eun-ho.”

Eun-ho picked up Noah with both arms and headed upstairs.

He slid Pengsoo toward the side of the bed and laid Noah down.

He undressed Noah and peeled away the hair stuck to his forehead.

His face was a bit grubby from not being washed before bed.

There were long furrow-like tracks of tears extending from his cheeks to his chin.

Eun-ho’s guilt resurfaced in his mind like grass perking up in the early morning.

He was so ashamed of his heavy-handed discipline that it hurt.

And he was afraid of the conflicts that would start in earnest just nine days from now.

He had absolutely no idea how to raise a kid.

He, a high school teacher, didn’t know how to raise a kid.

“Eun-ho Cha—” his mom called out from the playroom. “I’m going to use the bathroom first.”

By the time Eun-ho opened the door and looked out, his mom was already inside the bathroom.

Eun-ho closed the window’s curtains and lay down next to Noah.

He took off his clothes and threw them onto the floor.

He was intending on lying there until the bathroom was free, but immediately his body started to relax.

The lights became dim, and his vision started to blur.

And then, as if the sandman had hit him over the head, everything went black.

*

Eun-ho was wading through deep, blue water.

At times he was being swept along by a swift undercurrent, and at others he was being pulled down into a dark ravine.

When he reached the bottom, he was shot back up toward the water’s frozen surface.

It was dark and cold, and he couldn’t breathe. This terrified him.

Eun-ho knew it was a dream, but he couldn’t escape its pull.

He was aware of his body as it moved through the water, but he couldn’t move.

His eyes were closed. And yet he could sense a white light moving across the surface of the water.

He knew he was on a collision course for the ice, but he couldn’t adjust his trajectory.

He hit the ice with great force. An explosion of light ignited before his eyelids. White, hot, searing rays of light blinded his senses.

Just as he felt something coming, he was sucked back into the darkness as though a rock were tied to his ankle.

He had to still be dreaming. A thin crack formed between his eyelids allowing him to see a moving light just above them.

It moved like a search light from his left eye to his right eye, to his ear, to his throat and chest, and through his body down to his legs.

And then, suddenly, it disappeared as if someone had pulled the plug.

The moment the light disappeared, Eun-ho saw something—something appearing from the darkness. Something small and white.

A hand. Eun-ho heard a voice from inside his head. And then his consciousness went blank, as though someone had pulled the shutters over his brain. Complete blackness.

*

When Eun-ho opened his eyes, he was lying face down on the bed. The room was mostly dark, but birds were chirping outside. Faint sunlight was leaking into the room through the curtains. It was morning. He had finally escaped the dream.

Eun-ho was about to turn his body to lie down on his back when he paused. There was something soft pinned under his ribs. At first, he thought it had to be Pengsoo. But his memory immediately reminded him it couldn’t be Pengsoo. Last night, he had placed Pengsoo to Noah’s side.

Eun-ho’s body agreed with his memory. This didn’t feel like Pengsoo, who was large and fat. This thing beneath him was small and thin, like the branch of a fledgling tree. It was so frail that it felt like it would snap if he took so much as a deep breath. It smelled familiar, too.

A horrifying realization seized Eun-ho. A voice whispered in his ear. Don’t move. Don’t look.

An unbearable amount of time passed. Tick .

. . tock . . . Blood was rushing through his neck.

His heart was letting out a frighteningly grating sound.

A murder of crows was flying circles inside his mind.

He couldn’t take it anymore. Wanting to end the agony, Eun-ho turned over and got up in one single motion.

He looked down and confirmed what it was.

It was Noah. He was face down with his face buried in Pengsoo’s belly. Noah’s limbs were limp.

Noah didn’t answer when called to. Noah wasn’t breathing. Noah had no pulse. Noah’s head dropped lifeless when shook.

The world disappeared like a candle being blown out. Eun-ho’s mind went dark. And from inside the darkness, he could hear his own screams exploding like a nuclear bomb in his chest.

“Noaaaaaah!”