Soyoung asked her grandson:

“Did you know Noeul could talk?”

“I just found out yesterday. Noeul asked me how to greet Grandfather when meeting him for the first time.”

Jinwook knelt on one knee, grabbed his daughter, and whimpered:

“Was it finally time?”

“Yes, Dad. I could always speak well.”

Jinwook’s back trembled as he embraced his daughter. Soyu wiped her moist eyes. Soyoung explained to Sangpil, who looked confused:

“Noeul hasn’t spoken until now. We’re surprised because this is the first time she’s spoken.”

“She hasn’t spoken?”

“No. A few days ago, she wrote in Korean saying she would speak when the time was right. And now she’s speaking like this.”

Soyoung’s eyes were also red as she looked at her granddaughter.

Noeul’s newfound speech became the main topic, overshadowing Sangpil’s story. Noeul seemed annoyed by the adults’ reactions and firmly closed her mouth again. Despite Jinwook’s desperate attempts to make her speak, the child’s once-opened mouth remained shut. Soyu subtly restrained her husband.

“Later. Noeul must be tired too.”

“Really? Are you tired, Noeul?”

When Noeul, her mouth tightly closed, reached for the water glass in front of her, Sangpil picked it up and placed it firmly in his granddaughter’s hand.

“Are you thirsty?”

After drinking all the warm jasmine tea, which she seemed to enjoy, Noeul held out her cup to her grandfather.

“More, please.”

Jinwook’s eyes narrowed. She wouldn’t say a word when he tried to make her speak, but she readily spoke to his father. Traitor. Noticing the slight tremor in Jinwook’s eye muscles, Soyu changed the subject.

“Father, have you moved back permanently?”

“Yes. Only my retirement ceremony remains.”

“You must have worked hard all these years.”

Soyu understood organizational society well. Even small offices were difficult, let alone large corporations. She could understand that Father might have had his reasons in the endless competition. Sangpil looked at his wife and spoke in a low voice:

“The ones who really suffered were your mother and Jinwook…”

At that moment, both Soyoung and Jinwook flinched. Soyoung looked at her husband with unfamiliar eyes. She had never heard such words from him in her life. Sangpil, his mouth dry, took a sip of water and struggled to speak:

“I’m sorry. Only at this age have I found the courage to apologize. I was too indifferent all these years. I did wrong. I placed all burdens on you and thought it was natural—that since I worked, it was only right for you to handle household matters. I’m sorry… I was foolish enough to realize what I’d lost only after losing it…”

Soyoung’s eyes widened at Sangpil’s confession. He continued:

“After Jinwook’s wedding, I tried to reach out and awkwardly insert myself back in. I thought you and Jinwook would pretend nothing happened and accept me. But you were firm, and we eventually separated… At that time, I felt like my entire life had been rejected. At first, I felt wronged, then resentful…

After being sidelined by the company where I’d devoted my youth, I realized I had nothing left in my life… Family was everything, but I let go of that hand, and only after you left did I realize what you and Jinwook meant to me… I’m sorry…

I didn’t contact you hoping we could live together again. I know that. I know I can’t be forgiven. But I wanted to say this. To you and to Jinwook. That’s why I wanted to see your faces under the pretext of seeing the children.”

Sangpil’s eyes grew red and moist as he looked at Jinwook.

“Jinwook, I’m sorry. Although I wasn’t a good father to you, be an excellent and good Dad to your children. I’m sorry… for not being a good father to you… for saying things I shouldn’t have when you said you wanted to study photography… You were a capable child, but I didn’t recognize it. I’m sorry…”

A heavy atmosphere settled in the room. Jinwook especially seemed shocked, his face pale. As he grew older—no, even from a young age—his father had been an absentee. Someone who existed but wasn’t there. That was what his father had been. And when he needed him, he had already inflicted many wounds.

His brow darkened. Had his wounds been this deep? He hadn’t realized it himself. He’d thought it was just disappointment, but hearing his father’s words was unbearable. Something welled up inside him. With his head bowed, Jinwook’s lips pressed together, and his nasolabial folds deepened. Before he could speak, Soyoung’s calm voice was heard:

“We’ve lived together for decades—a single apology won’t heal these wounds. I chose you, so that’s one thing, but you should have done this earlier for Jinwook. He’s our child. You were especially harsh to him.”

“I know. It was my fault.”

“I can’t tell Jinwook to forgive his father. I don’t want to either. But thank you for having the courage to do this.”

Jinwook’s jaw tensed as he kept his head down. Seeing her husband like this, Soyu took his hand. She couldn’t fully understand how he felt, but she could imagine. His emotions must be complicated and difficult right now. Then Jinwook spoke:

“Do you have a terminal illness?”

Soyoung immediately looked at Sangpil, and Soyu was taken aback.

“Jinwook.”

Jinwook raised his head, his eyes flashing defiantly.

“Is your liver bad? Or your kidneys?”

Sangpil’s face contorted as he looked at his son. Jinwook’s voice grew agitated:

“If not that, then why are you suddenly like this? You’ve lived your whole life this way, so why now? I lived well without a father. Always thinking I was a child who couldn’t meet my father’s expectations, that I was a loser. I lived giving up. So why are you doing this now?”

Everyone was surprised, especially Soyoung, whose eyes trembled with shock. She hadn’t thought her son had been so deeply wounded. This was a side of her always cheerful, always smiling son that she’d never seen before. Soyu was equally surprised. She had known him for a long time and thought she understood his feelings about his father. But her husband’s anger and pain surpassed her expectations. His bloodshot eyes were consumed by despair, as if he had given up, and it was clear what agony he was going through. It was heartbreaking.

As he poured out his feelings for the first time in his life, Jinwook’s gaze fell on his son. Yeoul, seeing his father angry for the first time, seemed shocked, blinking his large eyes. Jinwook sighed. He wanted to storm out right away, but he couldn’t show such behavior to the children. He had grown up with wounds, but he didn’t want his children to experience the same pain.

“This doesn’t seem like the right time for this conversation. Let’s eat first. Mom and I will discuss this matter.”

Jinwook forced a smile at Yeoul.

“Yeoul, Dad’s not angry. I’m not fighting with Grandfather either. Can you understand that?”

Yeoul nodded and said:

“I understand, Dad. But it’s okay to be angry when you’re angry and cry when you want to cry. Just don’t stay angry for too long.”

Jinwook’s eyes widened at his son’s words.

“Where did you learn to say that?”

“Mom told me. When kids teased me for not having a Dad, I held it in. Then Mom told me that. She said suppressing emotions hurts more later.”

For a moment, Jinwook was stunned, as if caught off guard. He had forgotten that his son had also lived several years without a father. He couldn’t be righteous in front of his child either, with excuses like “it couldn’t be helped” or “I didn’t know.” Jinwook looked at his father. Seeing his father’s face clearly showing guilt, he realized something. Perhaps his father, like himself, had been in an unavoidable situation? Everyone has such moments. Jinwook’s eyes wavered, and a strong wind blew through his heart. That’s when it happened.

Noeul got down from her chair, walked in front of her grandfather, and stared up at him. Then she patted his knee gently and said:

“Grandfather. Don’t cry.”

Everyone looked at Noeul with round eyes. Noeul went between her grandfather’s legs and hugged him.

“Noeul likes Grandfather.”

Tears fell from Sangpil’s eyes as he embraced his granddaughter. Now he understood how much he had hurt his family with the excuse of being busy. No matter how successful, it’s all meaningless if family turns away—a realization that came too late.

Jinwook’s gaze grew somber as he watched his father sobbing while holding Noeul. As he turned away, Soyu took his hand. When Jinwook turned his head to look at her, Soyu smiled. As if she knew everything, as if she understood his pain.

Suddenly his chest felt tight. Buried in his own wounds and emotions, he had momentarily forgotten what he had. Soyu, Yeoul, Noeul. All beings for whom he would gladly give his life. He had childishly exposed and poured out the wounds he received from his father. Yet he was already beyond such wounds. He was already happy. He already had everything.

Jinwook sighed and muttered:

“I can’t handle this, Jang Soyu.”

Soyu smiled and patted her husband’s knee. Jinwook is a righteous person. Even if he pretends to be bad, he will eventually return to his true self.

“You have us.”

Jinwook took his wife’s hand and finally smiled with ease.

“Yes.”

Soyu’s eyes were gentle as she looked at her husband. An apology doesn’t dramatically improve all relationships immediately. But the starting point of everything begins with an apology. A relationship without apology cannot move forward. Especially family relationships. Trapped in the terrible dilemma of blood ties, we deceive our emotions and pretend to be okay, but we know. We know that wounds from family are the deepest wounds. Now Jinwook will gradually heal. And he will be reborn as a complete adult. That’s what she believes.