After meeting Cheonma, I wandered through the streets.
It wasn’t as though we agreed to walk together.
I was simply walking, and Cheonma followed me.
We still weren’t speaking.
I wasn’t in a place where I wanted to talk to her.
What would there even be to discuss? At most, I’d vent my resentment or curse her.
The fact that I refrained from even that meant I was exercising patience.
That’s what I told myself.
