NLFSD Chapter 57

Chapter 57

Their fellow camper, hearing Jiwoon’s answer, nodded knowingly. As I thought — you two really are an exceptional match.

To Jiwoon, other people’s evaluations didn’t matter so much, yet every time he heard “You really match well with Seo Taecheon,” he couldn’t help but feel good inside.

Meeting Seo Taecheon had been like colliding with an asteroid — shocking, unexpected, something unavoidable like a natural disaster. He still remembered the day he had first pulled a copy of his family registry and nearly fainted then and there.

But now, he only wished that asteroid would never veer away from his orbit. As if it had always been his guiding moon.

When he came back with both arms full of freshly washed lettuce and perilla leaves, Taecheon was waiting by the glowing charcoal grill.

“Why didn’t you start eating first?”

“I wanted to wait for you.”

The words struck such a sweet chord Jiwoon beamed.

“Let me grill the meat this time.”

“Careful. Put on these gloves, then.”

He slipped on the gloves Taecheon handed over and picked up the tongs. When they placed the rich, marbled Korean beef slices on the grate, fragrant smoke rose instantly and juices hissed.

“Wow! Smells incredible. Just look at that.”

“Shall we flip them together?”

“Yes!”

With overlapping hands, as though cutting a wedding cake, they turned the meat together. Bursting into laughter, both found it absurdly fun.

Soon, Taecheon cut a piece and slipped it straight into Jiwoon’s mouth with chopsticks.

“Mmm, so good. Feels like the alpine pastures of Daegwallyeong are flashing before my eyes.”

“Really that good?”

“Taecheon, you try it too.”

Jiwoon quickly shook the water off a lettuce leaf, wrapped three pieces of beef inside, and held it out. Taecheon accepted it gracefully.

“Tastes great — though perhaps it’s because you’re the one wrapping it.”

“Then have another.”

The two went at it noisily, feeding each other in turn like a couple in honeymoon bliss.

By the time they finished barbecuing, the sun had fully set. Taecheon fetched firewood and lit a small bonfire in the brazier before their tent. It wasn’t big, but it was a campfire for just them two.

Jiwoon boiled fish‑cake soup in a camping pot and opened a bottle of wine they had brought from home. With the folding table and travel wine glasses, it became a modest but cozy drinking set.

“Fish‑cake soup with wine — a fine pairing.”

“Not sure it goes well, though.”

“It’s just light white wine, so I think it’ll be fine. Here, start with this.”

He handed him a marshmallow skewer, puffed and golden from the fire.

“Wow, adorable! Let me take a picture.”

“I’ll hold it steady for you. Take it now.”

While Taecheon posed with the skewer, Jiwoon snapped photos giddily.

“I always wanted to do this. Seeing bonfire marshmallows on social media made me want to copy it so badly.”

“You never camped before?”

“No. I grew up with my grandparents — deep countryside.”

A faint smile curved his lips as he reminisced, chest tightening with nostalgia.

“I only camped overseas as an adult. My parents divorced when I was little. We never once went on a family outing, not even to an amusement park, as three together.”

“Ah… I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. It’s just truth. But now, we can go for many trips together. When we have children, we’ll bring them too.”

Just the two of us now… yet someday maybe a child, too.

Hearing Taecheon speak so naturally of their future, Jiwoon’s heart pounded. The blurry abstract of their future was solidifying detail by detail: living together, commuting from the same house, spending weekends in fresh mountain air, barbecuing. Even the thought of a child woven into that routine — the sound of laughter filling their home, Taecheon’s wardrobe of dark suits displaced by infant clothes.

I think I might actually cry.

His nose tingled, eyes blinking rapidly.

“In that vein, Jiwoon…”

“Yes?”

“There’s something I’d like to show you.”

“What is it?”

“Wait a moment.”

Rising from his chair, Taecheon went to the car and returned holding a tablet.

“This? Are we watching a movie?”

Given its crisp resolution, it made sense. But what appeared was not video — it was a document. An official form, stiffly arranged… in bold Gothic font.

“…This is a résumé.”

“Yes, mine.”

“Your— your résumé? Why show me this?”

“I kept thinking how much we still don’t know about each other. Conversation is one way to discover. But I thought perhaps it would help to share information formally, too. This seemed appropriate.”

He magnified the screen, revealing his official ID photo, his birthdate, blood type, biological designation, hometown in Seoul — intimate data cascading down.

“Isn’t this confidential?”

“Most likely, yes.”

Jiwoon panicked. Looking at a résumé of a corporate executive, heir to the chairman — this isn’t safe. What if the secretaries have me beaten black and blue?

Yet Taecheon said calmly,

“No matter. With a spouse, everything should be open.”

“Ah… then I should show mine too?”

“Later, if you wish. For now, I’m unveiling mine.”

“…Heh. Okay.”

Jiwoon chuckled. Poker‑faced yet kind, robotic yet quirky, he really did seem to lack dating experience. Who else would bring up a résumé as a way of sharing oneself?

To have such a magnificent, lovely husband… I must be the luckiest man alive.

“If you read, you’ll see I’m an only child.”

“I see.”

“My parents divorced when I was five. I lived with my father. My mother left for the US that same year.”

Though Taecheon spoke plainly, Jiwoon was keenly careful, aware how deeply losing family scars a heart.

“Forgive me for asking, but… why did they separate? If you’d rather I not pry, that’s fine.”

“No, I intended to say it. They’d already had problems before I was born. My mother left my father briefly and gave birth alone. That’s why even my birth registration was delayed.”

“Wait — then that birthday in your file, from the company celebration in spring, wasn’t accurate?”

“That’s the legal birthdate. My actual birthday is different.”

“…Really?”

“According to records, I’m a June baby. In reality, January.”

“What?!”

Jiwoon nearly yelped.

“That’s soon! You should’ve told me!”

“Well, now you know.”

Grinning, Taecheon pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Oh no. I’ll have to plan a major birthday party in January. Can’t let it go by. Need gifts, a restaurant… Jiwoon’s mind spiraled chaotically.

“You once said your parents passed away early.”

“Yes… then my grandparents while I was still a student. After that, I lived alone.”

“That must’ve been hard.”

Resting a hand on his shoulder, Taecheon’s warmth carried true sympathy.

“They were all I had… but they loved me dearly. My grandparents treasured me so much, I don’t know why.”

Thinking again that they were gone forever, Jiwoon’s heart ached. Taecheon, sensing it, gently wrapped him in his arm.

The reason Jiwoon had committed himself to bachelorhood was not anything else — only that the pain of losing family had been too heavy. He had vowed never to build another family, to live alone. And yet, here he was, on the verge of marriage. Life was unpredictable indeed.

“Now, you don’t need to worry. I’ll be your family.”

With eyes so tender, Taecheon’s words eased their way into him.

“…Yes.”

So, this person is my family now. We’ll live, laugh, and cry together.

And yet, with that came another fear — if he ever lost this man too…

A pang hit his chest: that long‑buried, fundamental terror of grief — losing family all over again.

Footnote

 

1. Daegwallyeong — A famous highland region in Gangwon province, noted for cattle ranches and fresh pastures. Jiwoon’s metaphor about beef evokes this scenic landscape.