Chapter 4

“Hey, lift your head.”

Thin fingers roughly grabbed Yaein’s chin, forcing her to look up. Serin turned Yaein’s face this way and that to examine the spot where she’d been hit, clicking her tongue in disapproval.

“Mom, how could you hit her face? She’s about to become a new bride.”

“Just seeing that face gets my blood boiling.”

Yaein’s stepmother shuddered with disgust, and Serin waved Yaein away as if she were shaking off an insect.

“Stop making Mom even more upset and just go. Didn’t you say you needed to shower?”

At last, permission to leave. Yaein bowed her head in a brief show of respect before standing up. Then Serin threw in one more barb.

“See? That’s what happens when you think your pretty face is all you need.”

I didn’t do that. I never even thought of it. Which should she say—deny it or try to explain?

Yaein knew the correct answer: both were wrong. What Serin really wanted was for her to admit it, just like when her stepmother would hurl insults at her—saying the only thing she’d inherited from her mother was a pretty face for seducing men—and make her grovel for forgiveness, even when she was just a child in her school uniform.

“I’m sorry.”

She apologized, just as she had to her stepmother, and still felt their eyes prickling into the back of her neck. Exhausted, she retreated to the only place she could be alone: her room. With a heavy sigh, she sank down onto the bed.

The room she was given was more like a storage closet, barely large enough to fit a bed and a small wardrobe. Boxes and various belongings were stuffed into every corner, making the space look messy. Her stepmother clearly had no intention of cleaning it out for her.

Her cheek throbbed. She carefully ran her tongue around her mouth to see if it was cut, but thankfully there was no wound. She wished she had some time for the swelling to go down before visiting her grandmother. Pressing her cold hand against her cheek, Yaein checked the clock on the wall.

She let out a soft groan of dismay at the time. Even if she left now, she’d barely make it during visiting hours. She concluded that she needed to grab a taxi right away if she wanted even a glimpse of her grandmother’s face. So, still in her soaked clothes, Yaein left the house.

The rain had eased considerably since earlier, but the air remained chilly. She shivered in the cold as she hailed a taxi, checking the time on her phone with growing anxiety.  

As soon as the cab stopped in front of the hospital, she hurried inside to the room—a proper single-bed suite. Seeing the one thing she’d managed to secure for her grandmother made Yaein feel a small spark of pride. At least she had been able to provide this much.

“Grandma, I’m here.”

Trying her best to sound cheerful, she greeted her grandmother, who looked startled and sat up in bed.

“I thought you might not be able to visit today.”  

“Don’t be silly. I just had something to do, so I’m a bit late.”  

“Why do you look so pale? And your cheek… what happened?”  

“It’s nothing.”

Not wanting her grandmother to know she’d been hit, Yaein buried her face in the bedsheet. The smell of hospital disinfectant weighed heavily on her chest each time she breathed.

*‘You don’t want to fool your parents, but you’re willing to let the grandmother who raised you suffer and die?’*

The words she’d heard earlier echoed in her mind. Right now, her grandmother had been admitted to a good hospital and already had surgery, but what about next time? It wouldn’t be a small amount of money.

She’d forced herself to come to the hospital in her wet clothes partly for her grandmother’s sake, but also for her own. The mere thought of staying in that house made her feel like she would go insane. She could endure physical discomfort, but she couldn’t bear the pain in her heart. In that house, she was completely alone.

If her grandmother passed away, Yaein would be all by herself in the world. Her grandmother was the only one who had never abandoned her—the only real family she had.

“Grandma, please don’t die and leave me behind. You’re all I have left now.”

Feeling as though she’d gone back to childhood, she began to whine; Grandma gently stroked her hair with a weak but warm touch. That simple kindness almost made her want to burst into tears like a little girl.

If she cried here, Grandma would be upset. She was already ill—Yaein didn’t want to give her more to worry about. So, pretending to check the time, Yaein stood up.

“I got here so late today, I can’t stay long. I’ll come again tomorrow. Call me if you need anything; I’ll bring it. Even if you don’t have much of an appetite, you still have to eat your hospital meals, okay?”

“You need to take better care of yourself, too. Every time I see you, you look thinner.”

“I’m fine.”

“Fine, my foot. You’ve been saying ‘I’m fine, I’m fine’ ever since you were little because you didn’t want to worry me.”

Grandma patted Yaein’s hand. Her thin, bone-and-skin fingers were like bare branches.

“I need to see you settle down with a husband before I die.”

“I told you not to talk about dying.”

“But you need someone to lean on, my little one. That’s all I think about every day since I came to Seoul.”

“You worry about me every day?”

Grandma squeezed her hand tightly, sending a twinge of pain to the tip of her nose. Yaein recalled how Grandma used to clean and scrub her father’s house, hunched over with a crooked back. Her stepmother had never hesitated to hurl harsh words at the old woman.

There was a time when Grandma held a sobbing Yaein—who tearfully told her not to come anymore—and insisted it was no trouble at all, that not seeing her granddaughter would be far worse. She’d say, “If I don’t see you every morning, how can I live without worrying about you?”

Having someone who worries about you—how crucial that is to life. And the thought of losing that person—how frightening it is.

“Maybe I really should get married.”

“Is there a man?”

Grandma didn’t know what sort of deal Yaein had made with her father. If she did, she would never have agreed to move hospitals, even if it killed her.

“It’s just a matter of finding someone.”

“Well, this is new. I thought you did nothing but study.”

“It’s not like I study all the time…”

Mumbling to herself, Yaein closed her eyes. She had always been the child who stayed glued to her desk, determined to excel in her studies and become a fine adult—so she could give Grandma the comfortable life she deserved after all her hardships.

She wanted to give back what she had received from her grandmother—so that her grandmother wouldn’t think it had been a mistake to raise her. She wanted to prove she was worth something.

“It’s really the end of visiting hours now.”

Murmuring her farewell, Yaein kissed her grandmother’s cheek. That precious, warm moment came to an abrupt end. Light had never been allowed to linger long in Yaein’s life.

She left the hospital room, staggering slightly down the hallway. Even though she tried to walk straight, her legs felt weak.

But she forced herself to walk properly. She stiffened her spine and squared her shoulders.  

Once she reached the lobby, her phone rang. Seeing the caller ID, Yaein’s face darkened.  

“Father.”  

Her father rarely called. Did Taeheon contact him? She had been prepared for it, yet her heart still pounded uncomfortably.  

—Where are you right now?  

“I’m at Grandma’s hospital.”  

—You’re always there, aren’t you? You never stay at home.  

She felt the urge to retort that the house wasn’t a home at all, that staying there only drained her body and mind. But she knew all too well how he might respond—just like her stepmother, who slapped her—so she chose to stay silent.  

—Director Kwon wants to set up the next meeting.  

“The next meeting?”  

She was sure she had explained everything. She’d made it clear she wouldn’t be getting married. Then why—?  

—Yes. He’ll be in touch. Talk it over with him and try to get along.  

Get along… with that man? How?  

Yaein walked on instinct. She didn’t even realize she had already exited the hospital, and a light drizzle was dampening her hair. Her father kept talking without pause.  

—I really owe you one, you know. Your older sister, she’s got a temper. She never listens, and all she does is raise her voice. A proper woman should be calm like you. And you’re such a beauty, too. Director Kwon probably fell for you at first sight. Thanks to you, I’m saving face here.

Her father’s chuckling voice was surprisingly gentle—so unlike him. When was the last time he had called her name so kindly?  

Even though he had caused her such misery—truly a terrible person—he was still her father. There had been days when she tolerated everything, desperate for his approval. Like when she was seven, she had a sudden urge to keep her mouth shut and do exactly as he said, walking down the wedding aisle if he ordered her to.  

“Father. I… I really don’t want this marriage.”  

But just as she forced her body to keep moving, her lips moved on their own. Her heart lurched violently, blood rushing through her fingertips in a heated burst. After a short pause, her father responded:

—Stop talking nonsense and know your place.

Then the call abruptly ended. The monotonous tone of the disconnected line filled her ears until she slipped the phone back into her pocket and kept walking.  

She soon realized she was going in circles around the parking lot, unable to find her way to the main road. Tears began to fall. She had thought she was walking in a straight line, but all she had been doing was spinning around in place, foolishly.  

Once the tears came, they wouldn’t stop. Sobbing, she crouched down in a corner. Warm tears ran down her neck. She hated how the cold raindrops mixed with her tears. She wished she could disappear—melt away, flow off somewhere, dry up and vanish.  

And then, the rain stopped.  

Following the shadow that fell over her, she lifted her head. A jet-black umbrella was held above her. The person sheltering her under it peered down with the same cold, composed expression she had once envied.  

Why is he here now—here, of all places?  

“How did you know?”  

That I was here. She asked in bewilderment. Taeheon just tilted the umbrella slightly.  

Behind this tall man, the world blurred under silver sheets of rain. The only thing clearly visible was him, beneath the dark canopy that covered her.  

“You’re crying.”  

He reached out and lightly touched her bruised cheek.

“With a face that looked ready to burst into tears if I so much as touched you, you held out surprisingly well without actually crying.”

Taeheon slowly lowered himself to one knee. As their eyes came level, for some reason, Yaein felt as though the rain falling down was being rewound back into the sky. A world of continuous downpour seemed to change its appearance only around Taeheon.

“I’ve been wondering since we were at the café—what kind of face you’d make when you cried.”

“…Well, what do you think?”

Her tongue moved on its own. She was curious what he thought of her crying face.

“Even more than I’d imagined…”

No matter how intently she listened, she couldn’t catch the rest of his words. His thick thumb brushed down her cheek, then grazed her lower lip. The touch of his fingertips was warmer than she had expected.

After stroking her lip, Taeheon suddenly grasped her wrist—leaving her no chance to dodge.

“Get up. You’re soaked.”

Where to?

She didn’t even ask the obvious question. She just rose to her feet, letting him lead her to his parked car without a word. Taeheon said nothing further.

Once she sat in the passenger seat, the car door shut behind her. The noise from outside instantly faded to a distance. She was alone in a confined space with Kwon Taeheon. Realizing that sent a faint electric thrill up her spine.