Vol 4 Ch 10

Now that it was just my mother and me, I often found myself gazing out of the hospital window.

As I watched the white clouds stretch across the blue sky like angel rings, my eyes drifted downward.

A tree that had always looked bare and desolate now had fresh buds sprouting from its branches. It felt like spring was finally approaching.

Feeling the wind brush against my cheek, I kept staring outside.

The breeze still carried a lingering chill, but I didn’t feel cold at all.

“Yeowon.”

I had been so lost in thought that I didn’t even notice my mother calling me from behind.

“Sweetheart.”

Her voice became clearer, and I quickly turned my head.

“…Yes?”

“Are you waiting for someone?”

Waiting for someone.

My mother’s hand smoothed over my hair, then cupped my cheek.

“You were staring blankly out the window.”

I remained silent for a moment at her words, then pointed at the tree, where new buds had begun to sprout.

With its tightly closed buds, I thought it would look quite beautiful once it bloomed.

“…It just feels like spring is coming soon.”

“But you weren’t looking at the tree. You were watching the people passing by.”

At her words, my lips parted slightly in surprise. But I couldn’t bring myself to deny it.

“I was scared of being left alone,” I murmured.

“…….”

“But it turns out, I wasn’t alone after all.”

Not alone.

At that, an image of someone’s back flashed through my mind.

I neither confirmed nor denied it—I just curled my lips into a smile.

It was such an awkward smile that my face twisted strangely.

A faint smile naturally spread across my mother’s face.

“That’s a relief.”

She whispered those words softly.

We both gazed out the window, sitting side by side with our hands resting atop each other, letting the warm spring sunlight wash over us.

Being cooped up in the hospital had made my mother long for an open view of the sea.

She said that once she got better, she wanted to go see it.

I told her we definitely would.

And then, a few months later—

I stood alone in front of that window, staring outside.

The once-budding branches were now covered in lush green leaves.

With empty eyes, I watched the blue leaves waving at me.

The slightly open window let in a breeze, carrying the scent of flowers.

The soft wind drifted through the room and gently brushed against the sheets of the bed behind me—sheets that had long since lost their warmth.

I stood there in silence, dressed in the same kind of black clothing that CEO Jang would have worn.

***

My mother was scattered into the sea in the spring.

With her hands neatly folded atop her chest, she left this world with a peaceful smile on her face. She had fought alone in the darkness, worried about the son she was leaving behind. And then, on a night when everyone else was asleep, she quietly closed her eyes. She spent nearly two years fighting for just two more months.

The funeral was held in a building behind the same hospital she had been in.

Dressed in a black suit, I stood at the entrance, greeting the few visitors who came. Like a hollowed-out shell, I simply stood there, unable to fully grasp this surreal reality. The funeral altar held three framed photographs.

“Oh, Yeowon…”

A familiar voice called out, and I slowly turned my gaze. It was Mrs. Kyunghui, stepping into the funeral hall with a haggard face. She clutched a soaked handkerchief in one hand and burst into tears the moment she saw me. She kept stroking my face and smoothing my hair, crying in my place—because I had long forgotten how to cry.

“I kept meaning to visit… I really did. But I’ve been so caught up just trying to survive…”

“…….”

“I’m so, so sorry.”

“No, Mrs. Kyunghui… I’m the one who should be sorry.”

She had been struggling just to get by herself. And yet, I had practically abandoned my mother to her care while I ran off to the resort like I was fleeing. For taking in and looking after someone who wasn’t even family by blood, I owed her a lifetime of gratitude.

“A man came by earlier,” she said. “He said he was with a group that wanted to take good care of Im Sunhwa.”

I let out a quiet “Ah,” then asked,

“Do you know where that is?”

“Oh, right! Just a second—”

She rummaged through the worn-out handbag hanging from her arm and pulled out a small, tattered business card from her budget smartphone case. Taking the card from her, I slowly read the words printed on it.

“He was such a big guy—built like a mountain. At first, I thought he might be from that kind of group, but he said they don’t do anything shady. Said it was a proper, respectable company. Gave my husband and me a business card each, too.”

Mrs. Kyunghui stroked my face and hands for a long while before reluctantly leaving, saying she had to get to her evening shift at the restaurant. I blankly watched her small frame disappear into the distance, then slowly lowered my gaze to the card in my hand. Holding it tightly, I stood still amidst the procession of people coming and going.

My relatives muttered about how I was now truly an orphan, glancing at me with pity.

“Yeowon, do you have anywhere to go?”

Anywhere to go.

…Did I?

When I didn’t respond, my aunt’s voice wavered with slight unease.

“Do you want to come with me?”

I gave a small shake of my head. For a split second, relief flickered across her face.

“Take care of yourself, then. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out.”

And with that one sentence, she shed whatever guilt she had and walked away. They hadn’t been there when I needed them most. Now that I could handle my own affairs, they were finally willing to “look after” me. I could see right through them.

As dawn broke, the funeral hall emptied. Except for mine, the shoe rack was bare. Through the wide-open door, the corridor was visible. People dressed in black emerged from both sides and passed by in a murky wave, like a swarm of storm clouds. Crouched inside, I watched them.

A black suit. It reminded me of someone.

CEO Jang, who had said he’d come soon, still hadn’t sent any word. I hugged my knees to my chest and pressed my eyes against them. Soon, my knees grew warm and damp. The business card in my grasp crumpled, then slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor. Next to “CEO” was the name “Jang Ki-joo.”

***

By the second day, the visitors had stopped coming entirely. I stayed out of courtesy, then stepped out to the smoking room in the lobby for a couple of cigarettes. When I returned, something felt off. A stale scent reached the tip of my nose. It wasn’t tobacco. It was heavier than that. My eyes followed the scent.

‘…Huh?’

The incense, which I had barely burned a few times and certainly not today, was emitting a thin wisp of white smoke. I removed my shoes and approached the memorial altar, touching the incense with my hand. It was still warm. Standing frozen for a moment as if my body had malfunctioned, I quickly put my shoes back on and rushed outside.

Cutting across the corridor, I descended the stairs opposite the way I had come up.

In the late dawn, at the end of the empty corridor, a tall man was walking away. I quietly watched his retreating figure before speaking.

“CEO.”

My voice was barely a whisper. So faint it could be swallowed by the chirping of insects outside, lost in the gentle southern breeze.

Yet, the towering man, his shadow stretching long across the corridor, halted. He turned toward me, his sharply defined face cast in deep shadows under the moonlight.

“…CEO.”

I took a step forward. Slowly at first, then hastened my pace, almost running, until I stopped in front of him. Holding onto his waist, I looked up at him. His face, etched deep in my retinas, filled my vision.

“…I thought you weren’t coming.”

At my faint murmur, CEO Jang’s deep lips curled upward. A white cigarette was loosely clamped between them, as if he had originally intended to step out for a smoke.

“I told you not to be at ease.”

A brief silence fell before the cigarette slipped from his lips. Then, pulling me close by the back of my head, he devoured me in a kiss.

“Mm… ngh.”

The desires that had been pent up, unable to be released, surged fiercely through my parched lips. Clinging to his nape, I barely managed to respond to his tongue. As I opened my mouth as wide as I could, his impatient emotions poured in. His strong hands yanked me closer, and I was helplessly drawn to him. Wrapping my arms tightly around his waist, I buried myself in his embrace.

Even when we briefly parted to catch our breath, our lips clashed back together just as fiercely. His heated bones and flesh covered me entirely, enclosing me in the sensation he had told me to remember.

With our tongues, we explored each other’s parched mouths, indulging in the moment.

**

On the third day of the funeral, the deceased, once confined to the coffin, returned to the earth. Those who had taken care of the corpse placed the portrait inside the coffin before lowering it into the grave.

Once the send-off was over, a car pulled up in front of the building. Assuming it was for me, I smoothly slid into the back seat, holding a thin bag against my chest. It was so light that it felt almost empty. Inside were the bankbook my mother left behind and a few checks CEO Jang had given me, untouched. I hadn’t spent a single cent.

As I adjusted my grip on the bag, my wristwatch shifted. It had once felt heavy. Now, it no longer did. It felt as if it had always belonged to me.

Through the car window, the scenery was in full bloom. I had thought spring was still far off, but before I knew it, it had arrived at my feet. Come to think of it, I had met him for the first time in spring.

“……”

Back then, I had left home aimlessly to escape. But now, I had a clear destination.

The man who had driven me to my limits, desperately trying to satiate his obsessive desire for me. Despite everything, I wanted to go to him.

A man who had never been in a place where love was exchanged wouldn’t know how to give it to another. So he poured his emotions onto me, relentlessly. The emotions surging inside him like a fountain were beyond his control, spilling over in a twisted, unrestrained way.

I had been just as overwhelmed by the sudden flood of emotions.

Before I could even grasp what it was, one day, it had already taken root in me. It had ambushed me—love tainted with impurities. So many layers of denial had left behind the sediment of revulsion, making it take far too long to recognize.

I was going to him.

For someone like me, already ensnared by that snake of a man, there was no other path.

Just imagining seeing those cold eyes again made my heart beat a little faster than usual.

It had happened without my realizing it. Before I knew it, something thick and sticky had flooded the space between us, like filth pouring in. Now, it had hardened completely, binding us together as one.

If we tried to tear it apart, both of us would crumble.

That was the kind of wretched, dirty relationship we had.

<The End. To be continued in the side story.>