Sun Hee was quicker at honing her skills than her colleagues, and within a year, she became the lead mezzo-soprano in the province. Her innate talent for singing coupled with her insatiable ambition and hard work made her successful and immensely popular. She had become a celebrity and basked in the spotlight, receiving standing ovations and bundles of flowers, signing autographs, being recognized on the street or in other public spaces, and receiving fan mail.
Sun Hee was overjoyed and grateful for the opportunity to sing professionally. There was nothing that excited her more than performing onstage in front of thousands of people, touring the province, and greeting her fans. Singing was her passion, and being a celebrity had become her life.
Months had passed, and Sun Hee’s jubilation waned. One evening, she returned from work, stood aloof from Seok Chun and her child, gazed at the living room, her living situation, and felt that her life, like a circle, had returned to the familiar place of emptiness and monotony.
Sun Hee did not discuss her emotions with Seok Chun, but he sensed that her dissatisfaction and frustrations were aimed at him. Despite the unnerving atmosphere, Seok Chun continued to do what he had been doing for Sun Hee. After work, he would pick up Ho Nam from the nursery, prepare dinner, put Ho Nam to bed, and then wait for Sun Hee to come home, hoping to move her, or at the very least, show her that he was supportive. None of these gestures pleased her anymore.
It appeared that Sun Hee was not satisfied with married life. She refrained from speaking much at home other than a few necessary words to her son. Toward Seok Chun, Sun Hee seemed to have closed her heart, locking her emotions in an impenetrable vault. She was certainly not trying to exhibit her strong-willed, independent personality to Seok Chun by maintaining her silence at home. It was clear to Seok Chun that she was frustrated with him. Although he did not know the exact reason, he had his suspicions. As much as he wanted to discuss the unsettling issue with Sun Hee, he waited patiently for an opportune moment. Meanwhile, Seok Chun scrupulously helped with the chores around the house, thinking Sun Hee would appreciate his efforts at trying to restore their deteriorating marriage.
One evening, Seok Chun finished the chores, prepared dinner, and sat with his son on his lap, waiting for Sun Hee to return from the theater.
When Sun Hee came home, she brought with her an air of irritation. If not for their son sitting in the room, the atmosphere would have been intolerably dismal. After glancing at the dinner that Seok Chun had prepared, Sun Hee became more vexed and complained, “I don’t feel any better when you do this.”
“I know you’re tired, so I wanted to help you,” responded Seok Chun.
“Look. I don’t appreciate your cooking for me like this. Besides, it’s the woman’s responsibility,” retorted Sun Hee. “And even if I’m tired, I can still make dinner for us. Is it a big deal if we eat later? You should not be wasting your time cooking, but studying. You should be studying.”
“Here we go again,” Seok Chun muttered, rolling his eyes.
Seok Chun had suspected that Sun Hee’s frustration with him concerned his unwillingness to pursue higher education. She had brought up this matter for many years, and tonight was no exception.
“Don’t sit around like this,” Sun Hee persisted. “You should enroll in the Engineering College and do something with your life.”
Seok Chun, a bit annoyed, raised his voice. “You want me to waste five years of my life in a classroom?”
“It could help you,” Sun Hee countered.
“How can a name on a stupid diploma help me?”
“It’s not the diploma. It’s a degree in engineering. With it, you can be the top engineer at your factory.”
“Have you forgotten that I am the top lathe operator?” yelled Seok Chun, flustered. “I am perfectly satisfied as an operator without a diploma. I go to the factory and I turn the lathe. I like living a simple life.”
“You promised to follow your dreams when we got married,” Sun Hee cried.
“I did,” Seok Chun retorted. “What do you think I’ve been doing at work all these years?”
“All you do is turn the lathe. It’s a mindless job! Anyone can do that.”
“But not as well as I can.”
“It’s not innovative,” Sun Hee argued.
“I come up with new machines!”
“How? With those childish drawings of yours? No wonder you’ve been struggling with your projects.”
“So you think I’m stupid? You think I’ve been wasting my time?”
“Isn’t it obvious? You haven’t been productive with your work at all. With an engineering degree, you could’ve been a supervisor or an executive by now.”
“A supervisor? An executive?” Seok Chun was flabbergasted. “What has gotten into you? You married me for who I am, but you’ve changed over the years.”
She was at a loss for words, not because she had nothing to say but because there were too many things she wanted to say. Instead, she turned her head away from him.
The dinner on the table was left untouched.
Seok Chun tried to understand Sun Hee’s point of view but could not find any fault in himself. He felt he had done nothing wrong—he worked diligently at the factory, took care of the chores, and genuinely supported his wife’s celebrity lifestyle.
However, compassion for Sun Hee withered in Seok Chun’s heart, and instead resistance surged. Seok Chun believed Sun Hee had forgotten about her humble beginnings and exuded pride and vanity as a celebrity. He did not feel the need to advance his career just to please Sun Hee. He no longer cared what she had to say about him, and he decided to live the way he wanted to and let her live the way she wanted. Sun Hee’s nagging had slowly eroded his pride over the years, and it was now irreparably damaged.
After that tumultuous evening, Seok Chun never made dinner for Sun Hee again. After work, he would stop by the factory recreation center and play chess with other comrades or work on his sketches for his new machine at the factory. To others, Seok Chun seemed to have control over his life, passion for his work, and a plan that was being fulfilled; they were not aware of his decaying marriage.
One afternoon, Sun Hee was hand-washing Seok Chun’s clothes in the bathroom. She pursed her lips and scrubbed the grease stains with all her might, but it appeared that the stains were the least of her concerns. She wiped the sweat off her forehead with her forearm, straightened her back, and then resumed her crouching position to scrub the clothes. Seok Chun was in his room, transcribing his ideas into his sketchbook. He glanced over at Sun Hee and noticed that she was violently scrubbing his pants on the washboard. She was so engulfed in her thoughts that she did not even respond to her son’s call. She stopped scrubbing the clothes, placed her soapy hands on her knees, and called out to Seok Chun.
“How much longer do you need to work on your new machine?”
“Just a little bit more,” he replied.
Shaking her head, she muttered, “It’s always the same answer. You said that two months ago, last year, and the year before that.”
“I’ve done a lot since then. I’m really certain about this one.”
“Last time you compensated the factory for the wasted alloy. What next? The electric lamps?”
“Why are you bringing that up again?”
“Because I heard that the Materials Committee recently held a meeting to, perhaps, exempt you from having to pay for all those wasted parts? But, no,” said Sun Hee in a bitter tone, “you had to insist on paying for everything.”
“It’s absolutely my responsibility to pay for the parts I misused.”