Sumi came to New York as an international student and earned her degree. However, her visa was about to expire, and she was facing the reality of having to return to Korea. She dreaded the thought of going back to her parents, who had sacrificed so much to finance her studies, only to live with them as an unmarried, dependent daughter. She thought it might actually be better for them if she stayed far away and lived on her own. Counting down the days to her visa expiration, she spent her nights in deep anxiety.

One sunny Sunday, Sumi was in the basement laundry room of her apartment building, looking at an art book while waiting for her clothes to dry. An Asian man sitting nearby struck up a conversation.

"Are you Korean? Are you an art major? Which university did you go to?"

After a flurry of questions, the man introduced himself as a senior alumnus from her university.

"What a pleasure to meet a junior from my school in a place so far from home! Come over to my apartment this Saturday."

On Saturday, Sumi laid out her few pieces of clothing on her bed, trying on one outfit after another on her slender frame. She finally chose a green and yellow plaid dress—the one piece that made her look a bit more shapely—and stood hesitantly outside her senior's apartment door for a long time. She gathered her courage and pressed the doorbell. The moment the door opened and she stepped inside, a very familiar, large face caught her eye.

"Wait, what are you doing here?"

"Huh? What brings you here?"

It was Du-il, her college classmate. It turned out to be a setup by her senior to match up a single man and woman, but since the two had never thought much of each other back in school, the spark didn't fly.

Du-il was an immigrant who held a green card. Before heading back to Seoul, Sumi debated whether she should just ask him, thinking she had nothing to lose. Surviving in New York as an Asian felt harder than pioneering the Old West. On the other hand, she hated the idea of returning to Seoul to become a teacher again—something she had already done before coming to New York. In fact, she had fled to graduate school abroad precisely because she couldn't adapt to structured organizational life.

Her pride had hit rock bottom long ago. Just thinking about her return flight ticket made her feel suffocated. Believing that just as she had studied hard to get into college and study abroad, she also had to work hard to achieve marriage, she gathered her courage and spoke up.

"My visa expires in a few days, so I have to go back to Seoul. Can you get me a green card?"

Du-il’s face contorted in embarrassment. He stared into space without saying a word.

"Are you going to do it or not? If you don't want to, forget it. Just give me a quick answer."

"You know, it costs a lot of money to get someone a green card these days."

"How much?"

"Well, I don't know either."

Du-il's tense expression softened, and he began to smirk as if enjoying himself. It was annoying to see him showing off when the only thing he had going for him was a green card, but Sumi played her last card.

"Fine. In return, I’ll buy you a house."

They headed straight to Chinatown. Sumi bought a $30 ring for herself and a $50 ring for Du-il. Then, she hailed a yellow cab, dragged Du-il down from his second-floor apartment at 135 Grand Street, and pushed him inside. They picked up two friends to act as witnesses and sped off to City Hall. The marriage officiant mumbled something for a minute and 45 seconds.

"Again! Just one more time, please!"

Sumi even shouted at the officiant in the rush of the moment. Without even having time to take photos, they made their marriage vows just one day before her visa expired.

After the ceremony, they had lunch with their friends at 'Seol-Ag-Gi,' a restaurant in Chinatown, washing down their food with Tsingtao beer. Since she was the one who had asked for this marriage, Sumi gladly paid for the rings, the cab fare, the drinks, and the food. Afterward, they stood facing each other at the subway entrance.

"Are we good now?" Du-il asked.

"Yes. Consider my promise kept."

Sumi replied coldly, turned on her heel, and walked straight into the subway station.

Sumi took the lead in filing for the green card. Although they were legally married, they continued to live separately with their own roommates, just as they had before. Then one day, they received a call from Du-il’s father, who lived in LA. He told them to come to LA because he wanted to throw them a formal wedding. Sumi declined, saying she didn't want a troublesome wedding, but Du-il’s father sent them plane tickets, insisting he must meet her.

Unlike Du-il’s family, who were blunt and came from the northern Hamgyong province, Sumi was a warm, polite woman from Seoul, and his father took an immediate liking to her.

"I love a Seoul lady. I hope you can guide my clumsy son well through life. I’ll throw you a wedding and buy you a diamond ring."

"I’m very sorry, Father, but I don't really need a diamond ring. Could you give me the money instead?"

At Sumi's eccentric request, Du-il’s father frowned in bewilderment.

"Why is that?" he asked, staring at her with suspicious eyes.

"I don't care much for shiny rocks. If you give me the cash, I’ll use it to set up our life in New York."

Worried about the couple's ambiguous relationship—where it wasn't even clear if they were truly living as husband and wife—Du-il’s father invited Sumi's parents from Seoul to LA as well. Of course, Sumi had already persuaded her own parents beforehand to give them cash instead of traditional wedding gifts. In the end, after pocketing a lump sum of cash from both sets of parents, the two returned to New York as soon as the wedding was over. Two years later, Sumi scraped together more savings and finally bought a house.

"Are you satisfied now? I bought you a house, just like I promised."

"Yeah, I am," Du-il laughed heartily, looking completely amused.

---

"Before we got married, my mom checked our marital compatibility with a fortuneteller," Du-il said. "The fortuneteller was shocked and said she had never seen such a perfect match in her entire life. Honestly, I can't believe it either. To think that I, who started with absolutely nothing, would end up living this well. This is all thanks to you, Sumi."

"Then why did you play hard to get when I first proposed? Be honest. You married me because I promised to buy you a house, didn't you?"

"No, it wasn't that... To be honest, I just wasn't in any financial position to get married back then."

Before they knew it, Sumi and Du-il had reached their 37th wedding anniversary.

"Should I buy you a diamond ring the size of a soybean now?" Du-il asked, looking gently at Sumi’s aging hands.

"Instead of a shiny rock, just takeout some food from K-town on days I don't feel like cooking."

A little later, like an ancient hunter returning with a fresh catch, Du-il slammed a heavy grocery bag down onto the dining table. Sumi welcomed it with a bright smile, lifted the bag, and unpacked it on the table. It was ox bone soup, mung bean pancakes, spicy soybean paste stew, and grilled mackerel. While Du-il washed up in the bathroom, Sumi reheated the slightly cooled pancakes and grilled mackerel in a pan until they were piping hot.

"I’ll bring you takeout more often. Eat up," Du-il said with a smirk, breaking off a large piece of the perfectly grilled, golden mackerel and gently placing it right on top of Sumi's rice bowl. "Since we never use artificial seasonings at home, you need a little MSG every now and then to get a good night's sleep."