#13. The Meeting

Seo-wan stepped awkwardly into the consultation room. It was as quiet and still as it had been before.

Her eyes met his across the desk.

The cardigan he had worn last time hung neatly over his chair. His white shirt made his broad shoulders seem even more pronounced.

Steam rose from a tumbler on the immaculate desk, lending the scene an almost dreamlike quality.

“Please, have a seat, Detective Choi. You’re the first police officer to come to me for a consultation, so I thought I’d give you a little special treatment.”

He rose and switched on the kettle. Then he brewed some tea and held out a mug to her.

“Chamomile. It has a calming effect. Not much flavor, but surprisingly good for the stomach, too.”

Seo-wan merely stared at the mug, her expression blank despite his smile.

When her fingertips touched it, its heat only deepened her wariness.

Was coming here a mistake?

Facing him, she felt a swell of unease. Perhaps she had made the wrong choice.

But it might already be too late for regrets.

As though sensing her thoughts, he gently reassured her.

“I’m not going to interrogate you. You don’t have to look quite so guarded.”

Seo-wan tightened both hands around the mug.

“I’m not here to pour my heart out.”

Leaning back in her chair, she tried to sound indifferent.

“Of course.”

Min-gyu did not smile, but his eyes were softer than before.

“You can say whatever you like. Or nothing at all.”

“Is that a psychiatric tactic?”

“Well, let’s call it that.”

This was not the voice she had found sharp and unpleasant before.

It was warm. Reassuring.

Was this how he behaved as a doctor rather than a witness?

“Silence is another language, too.”

Without answering, Seo-wan lifted the mug and took a small swallow.

Perhaps it was the faint scent of chamomile, but her guard began to ease.

“I only came because I can’t sleep.”

Min-gyu raised his eyebrows slightly.

“How long has this been going on?”

“Quite a while. It takes me a long time to fall asleep. I don’t sleep deeply, I wake up often, and sometimes I have nightmares.”

One corner of her mouth moved slightly, though she did not smile.

“I don’t want this on record. I’m just telling you, that’s all.”

“That’s fine. You can just talk. I trust people who speak more than those who say nothing.”

He carefully opened a drawer and took out a small box of medication. The little tablets were individually sealed, to be taken out one at a time.

“It’s something I take occasionally myself. A sleep aid with anti-anxiety effects. Very mild. It has a low risk of dependence, and you only need to take it when necessary.”

He held out the box, then noticed her look and quietly set it on the desk.

“Of course, whether you take it is entirely your choice, Detective. I’m simply… giving you an option.”

Seo-wan looked down at the box without a word. Wariness and hesitation still lingered in her eyes.

“If you’re worried, you can start with half a tablet.”

She gave an almost imperceptible nod and slipped the medication into her pocket.

“Would you come back for another visit?”

There was consideration in his cautious tone.

Seo-wan answered with a smile that gave nothing away.

Then she quietly rose. Just before leaving, she turned to look at him.

“The tea’s better than I expected.”

“I’m glad. I’ll have something even better ready for your next visit.”

Watching the door after she had gone, Min-gyu smiled an enigmatic smile.

She had come back, just as he had predicted.

Just as he had wanted.

And he had no doubt she would seek him out again.

“You see, Choi Seo-wan. Here you are again.”

***

 

That night, Seo-wan sat on her bed, staring at the small box of medication.

A single little tablet he had given her occupied her entire mind.

-It has a low risk of dependence, and you only need to take it when necessary.-

His languid voice came back to her. That low, measured tone. His interest in her, mingled with the scent of chamomile.

She placed a tablet in her palm and studied it for a long time.

Taking it would mean admitting she was weak.

She hated that.

A police officer taking sleeping pills!

But something frightened her even more.

Closing her eyes and enduring the darkness all over again.

Just once. I’m only checking whether it really works.

Seo-wan quietly got up, took some water from the refrigerator, and swallowed the tablet.

Then she switched off the light with a click and lay down.

Before long, her eyelids grew heavy. She felt herself slowly sinking, as though being drawn down through the mattress.

His words came back to her.

-Would you come back for another visit?-

She felt foolish for having let her guard down around him. Yet why did his words linger like an afterimage?

And why, now, did that scentless consultation room seem so warm?

She had no answer.

With her eyes closed, she merely murmured,

“Still… it wasn’t bad.”

A few minutes later, she slipped into a deep sleep.

The medication certainly worked.

But with each tablet that disappeared, her anxiety grew.

And at the end of that anxiety, he was always there.

Was it because she needed counseling that she kept thinking about their conversations?

The day after she took the last tablet, Seo-wan found herself driving to his clinic once again.