“Mom…”
Dahyeon rubbed her sleepy eyes and burrowed into Ina’s arms. Ina pulled her close and gently patted her on the back.
“Go to sleep now, okay?”
“Mom, your face looks weird.”
Still nestled against her, Dahyeon tilted her head back to look at her mother.
She had an uncanny ability to sense her mother’s emotions, particularly on days like this, when Ina’s heart felt unbearably heavy.
Ina offered a faint smile and stroked her daughter’s hair.
“How does Mommy’s face look?”
“Like you’re going to cry.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is.”
Even when she tried to deny it, her feelings were plain enough for a child to see.
Her emotions were so close to the surface that it felt as though the slightest touch would cause her to break down.
But she could not cry in front of her daughter. So she endured all day.
“I’m sleepy.”
“Then let’s sleep.”
Ina hummed a quiet lullaby.
Soon, Dahyeon, who had been rubbing her eyes and tossing and turning, began breathing in slow, steady rhythms.
Ina gazed down at her daughter’s peaceful sleeping face.
“Your eyebrows are really thick.”
“Are they?”
“Yeah. It’s like you colored them in with a pencil.”
Dahyeon’s eyebrows were identical to Taeyun’s.
Even the curve of her eyes when she smiled resembled his.
With trembling fingertips, Ina gently traced her daughter’s brow.
She had thought the pain would dull with time.
But now, feeling the ache all over again, she realized it never truly had.
“……”
Tears pooled in her eyes as she looked down at Dahyeon.
“I’ve been doing well… It seems you haven’t.”
She forced those cruel words out of her mouth, pretending to be unaffected. It felt as though her heart was being ripped apart, but she had no choice in the matter.
Had she ever truly lived well?
Whether she closed her eyes or kept them open, he surfaced without warning. Just when she thought she was getting better, he returned to her thoughts.
The feeling never faded easily.
“I love you.”
The voice that had once whispered love to her now rang in her ears like tinnitus: it was Taeyun’s.
Taeyun had once been a beacon of light in her bleak life.
She had never wanted to let go of his hand.
She knew he was far too good for someone like her.
Nevertheless, he was the first person she had ever allowed herself to want.
“Ha…”
In the end, the tears spilled over.
Looking at Dahyeon, who resembled Taeyun so much, Ina had the strange feeling that Taeyun was lying beside her once more.
Afraid of waking her daughter, Ina bit her lip and wept silently.
The image of his eyes, filled with betrayal, came vividly to mind.
Overwhelmed by a longing that pierced her chest, she swallowed her tears throughout the night.
***
Seven years earlier.
“Why is the weather forecast so wrong?”
“Seriously. They didn’t say anything about snow today.”
Taeyun muttered under his breath as he looked up at the hazy sky.
Today was the day of the university squash club’s (Jandi) volunteer activity.
Around twenty members had gathered and were on their way to an orphanage in Changwon. They had boarded the early-morning KTX, chatting excitedly and sharing snacks.
“It’s snowing like crazy.”
It was unusual for it to snow in March, especially after there had been no snow at all during the winter.
This was unusual.
Taeyun furrowed his brow and spoke with a note of concern. Although he was looking forward to the three-day, four-night volunteering trip, the snow was worrying him.
He had often volunteered alone before, but this was his first time going with club members.
“Brother, won’t you be cold dressed like that?”
“Well, there’s nothing I can do. They said the temperature would be higher down south, so I dressed light. I didn’t expect snow.”
In response to Hyeseong’s concern, Taeyun gave an awkward smile.
All the spare clothes he had brought were for spring. He had deliberately packed lighter outfits, thinking he would warm up while working.
It’ll be fine somehow.
He gazed out of the window as the train car filled with lively laughter. Everyone seemed as excited as if they were setting off on a trip together.
“We’re almost there.”
As they approached their stop, Taeyun stood up.
Passengers hurriedly retrieved their bags and suitcases from the overhead racks. Taeyun put on his backpack and got off the train as soon as it stopped.
“I’ll do a headcount.”
He returned to school immediately after completing his military service.
Despite coming from a wealthy family, he was unfailingly polite and well-mannered. He approached campus life with diligence and enthusiasm, consistently achieving the highest grades in his department.
As department president, he quietly and responsibly met the high expectations of his professors. His considerate and attentive nature meant that he looked after those around him, earning the genuine respect of his seniors and juniors alike.
“Everyone off?”
“Yes!”
Hyeseong finished taking the headcount at the back and signaled with a wave.
Smiling, Taeyun led the group forward.
As they left the station, the director, who had arrived early to greet them, smiled broadly at their arrival. A small bus was waiting for them by the kerb.
“Hello!”
Taeyun greeted her warmly, smiling with his eyes.
He had spoken with Director Ji Yeonsuk several times on the phone before coming here, asking if there was anything they needed or should bring.
All the new supplies and equipment for the orphanage had already been shipped in advance.
“Taeyun, your voice sounded impressive over the phone, but you’re even more handsome in person.”
With her grey-streaked hair, Director Ji Yeonsuk looked like a kindly neighborhood aunt. He had heard that she had run the orphanage with warmth and generosity her entire life.
When she complimented him, the club members beside him snickered.
“Thank you. How long does it take to get from here to the orphanage?”
“It usually takes about twenty minutes to get to the station, but it might take a little longer today because of the snow.” Come on everyone, get in! Don’t stand there getting snowed on!”
After exchanging brief greetings, they quickly boarded the bus. Taeyun sat beside Director Ji and began asking her questions in a friendly, relaxed tone.
She explained that Changwon rarely saw snow. Even two centimeters could bring traffic to a standstill. That was why the children hadn’t been able to go to school that day.
“I hope this snow doesn’t keep up.”
As they drove on, the snowfall intensified. Watching the windscreen wipers moving frantically back and forth, Director Ji became anxious.
“You’re right. It’s coming down quite heavily.”
Taeyun nodded in agreement.
Director Ji let out a small sigh and furrowed her brow.
“The forecast said it might snow for five days. I’m not sure what we’ll do. One side of the building has already become damp. Too much snow is a problem, but so is rain.”
“Please don’t speak so formally to me.”
Taeyun said it with a bright smile.
“Oh? Should I not?”
Director Ji nodded and tightened her grip on the steering wheel.
It took nearly two hours to reach the orphanage. Although the snowfall was not particularly heavy by Seoul standards, the roads were chaotic, just as she had said they would be. Before long, large flakes began to fall in earnest.
When they stepped off the bus, they saw children running around the yard and smiling happily.
As Taeyun and Director Ji entered, the children stared at them curiously.
“Mom, who are they?”
A girl of about seven clung to Director Ji and asked.
“They’re older brothers and sisters who’ll stay with us for three nights starting today.”
“Only three nights? That’s so short.”
Sumi glanced at them, looking disappointed.
Taeyun strode forward and crouched down to meet her at eye level.
“Nice to meet you. I’ll come and see you often from now on. Every week if possible, or at least once a month. I promise.”
He held out his little finger.
Sumi hesitated, then burrowed back into Director Ji’s arms. The children were still shy, looking at the newcomers curiously but not approaching them.
“It’ll take them a little time to warm up. Let’s unpack first. If you go towards the annexe, you will find two large rooms. You can divide them by gender.”
“Understood.”
After looking at Sumi and giving her a faintly disappointed smile, Taeyun stood up and followed the group towards the building.
Thrilled by the snow, the children played in the yard, rolling around and throwing snowballs.
“Stop right there, Jinhee! Jinhee!!”
“Ahh!”
Just as he was about to step inside, a child no older than three ran over and crashed into his leg.
Taeyun caught her quickly before she could fall backwards and looked her over in alarm.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”
“I told you not to go!”
A woman rushed over and snatched the child from his arms.
Startled by her cold reaction, Taeyun lifted his gaze.
“Sister… waaah.”
“I told you not to run. What if you got hurt?”
“Excuse me, there’s no need to be angry—”
Taeyun tried to intervene, but she ignored him entirely.
Hoisting Jinhee into her arms, she walked past him.
“Excuse me.”
He reached out and caught her attention.
At his call, she stopped abruptly.
“I asked if she’s okay. Is she?”
“Mind your own business.”
“What?”
Having delivered her words bluntly, she walked away from him without another glance.
Taeyun let out a short, incredulous laugh.
He stood there, staring blankly after her.