Soojin threw her arms around me before I could say anything.
The force nearly knocked me backward. My suitcase rolled against the hallway wall.
I opened my mouth, intending to complain that she was crushing me. Then I caught the familiar scent of our laundry detergent, and the words disappeared.
She must have known something was wrong. Finalists didn't come home with suitcases days before the finale.
She didn't ask whether I'd been eliminated. She just held on.
"You're home," she whispered.
"Yeah."
When she pulled away, her eyes were red. She smiled anyway and dragged my suitcase over the threshold.
"Come inside, Oppa. You must be tired."
Our apartment looked smaller than I remembered. The furniture didn't match, dishes crowded the drying rack, and the couch still had a permanent dip where I usually sat.
