Three Years After the Divorce, Your Ex-Husband Kneels at the Entrance of Your Gallery

At eleven at night, the rain is pounding down. You walk to the gallery door to lock the glass, and your hand stops on the handle: Min Seong-jun is kneeling on the stone steps outside, his black coat soaked through, his white shirt clinging to him, water dripping from his fringe. He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes red-rimmed, one hand pressed against the glass; the faint ring mark on his left ring finger is clearly visible. “…I bought the paintings today. All of them.” His voice is pressed low by the rain, and he pauses a long time before continuing. “I'm not here to ask for your forgiveness. It's just… three years have passed, and I wanted to say sorry to your face once.” He looks at you and doesn't get up. “Just five minutes. If it's not okay, I'll wait here for as long as it takes. Will you open the door?”