Chapter 70 (End)

I only realized later that I was in a hospital. Given what had just happened, it should’ve been obvious—but at first, I wasn’t even clear on where I was.

My whole body still felt hazy and weak. Like in the early days of pregnancy, no matter how much I slept, drowsiness kept crashing in.

A soft whisper fell from beside my pillow.

“You can sleep more if you’re tired.”

It was a sweet temptation, but I forced myself to sit up. If I fell asleep now, who knew how long I’d be out again?

Taeheon was here—after everything. I wanted to spend even just a little more time with him.

“I’m not tired.”

“Liar. You looked ready to knock out any second.”

“Well, I am a little sleepy… But—are you really not in pain? You’re not pushing yourself, right?”

I eyed him suspiciously.

Looking at him now, it was hard to believe he’d been shot. He looked perfectly fine. Dressed in a suit, with the injury neatly concealed, he looked every bit the same as always.

“I’m really okay. You can relax.”

That, in itself, felt miraculous. How had he healed so quickly?

On top of that, Taeheon had spent the whole day running around, tying up loose ends. Anyone with a normal body would’ve collapsed by now, but he somehow seemed even more energized.

“What’s going on with the foundation stuff?” I asked.

Taeheon hadn’t brought it up until I did. He probably didn’t want to talk about anything stressful while I was recovering.

“Father’s in prison. Pleaded guilty, and now he’s serving time diligently. Must be listening to his lawyer this time—he’s not throwing tantrums, just negotiating like he should.”

He pulled a chair up to the bed and sat down. He trimmed the complicated story into something clean and simple.

“Your family’s in the same boat, too.”

He glanced at me. Those people, raised like hothouse flowers without a drop of trouble in their lives, were now throwing fits at the reality they’d never faced before. It was different from how his father had gone down.

My father even broke down crying to Taeheon like a child. If I were too softhearted, I might’ve wavered seeing that.

“I heard Serin wanted to see me,” I said.

Taeheon’s eyebrow arched.

“Who told you that?”

“Your mom came by. Asked how my recovery was going, brought a ton of fruit and juice.”

I let out a crooked smile. Even just hearing the word “surgery” made Taeheon flinch, like he’d been pricked by a needle.

Things were still awkward between him and Gyeongju, but he seemed content letting her play guardian while he was too busy with everything else.

And since she was someone I cared about, he seemed willing to tolerate it for now. That was enough. Who knew what might happen going forward?

“Anyway, whether it’s Serin or anyone else, I don’t plan to meet with any of them. They’re people I don’t need in my life anymore.”

“Smart choice.”

“My family’s somewhere else now.”

I leaned into him and mumbled. I could feel him smiling beside me. The air around us quivered gently with his soft laugh.

“Are you feeling better? I heard you didn’t sleep much again last night.”

“I’m doing much better now.”

Taeheon answered brightly, but the worry didn’t fully leave his face. His slow kisses landed on her cheek and lips, then drifted down to her neck and chest. As he pulled up her hospital gown, the surgical scar on her belly was revealed.

The still-reddened stitches were marked with the reverent touch of his lips, and he murmured,

“You’re going to be okay.”

The words sounded like a prayer.

Yaein wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Like two birds separated from the flock, they clung to one another.

***

Beyond the partition of the visitation room, the door opened. Kwon Seonghwan, now with noticeably grayer hair, shuffled in with a limp.

“It’s been a while,” Taeheon greeted him.

From behind the transparent partition, Seonghwan glared at him, bloodshot eyes full of hate.

Taeheon met his sharp gaze without expression—if anything, he seemed to enjoy it.

“How’s prison life treating you?”

“You little bastard…”

“I guess the prosecutors and politicians you relied on decided this wasn’t the time to talk about loyalty.”

Not giving him a chance to curse further, Taeheon continued in an even, unbothered tone.

“Still, it was wise of you to strike a plea deal instead of clinging to a rotten rope. If you behave well, you might be out before you’re eighty.”

Seonghwan’s face twisted red and blue with rage. Forced to live out his remaining years behind bars—of course he was seething. Sitting there in a shabby prison uniform, he reeked of festering resentment.

“That is, if some unfortunate incident doesn’t happen to you in prison first,” Taeheon added, meeting Seonghwan’s blazing eyes directly.

If Seonghwan even hinted at trying anything, Taeheon had no reason to let him keep breathing.

“You’ve got health issues too, right? At your age, this can’t be easy. I’m already worried something might happen to you inside.”

Seonghwan lowered his head, his shoulders shaking. His scalp, dotted with scabs, was patchy—he must’ve torn out some of his own hair.

“You think you’ve won? You dump everything on me and feel clean now? You’re my son. You’re just like me!”

Foaming at the mouth, Seonghwan raved. His wild eyes bulged with fury. Taeheon let him rant, then smiled—amused.

“I don’t care about being clean. But I do know what it takes to win completely.”

Seonghwan flinched. The shift in energy made him look much older. He resembled the frail man lying in a hospital bed not long ago.

“You should always watch your back.”

Taeheon leaned in toward the partition and spoke coldly.

“Because like you said, I’m garbage just like you. And even now, I’m holding back.”

The mere sight of Seonghwan made Taeheon think of Yaein’s face as she lay barely clinging to life. All the pain she’d endured came flooding back.

He placed a hand flat on the transparent wall. If that partition weren’t there, who knew what part of Seonghwan he might have reached for.

Revenge licked at his insides. Seeing Seonghwan, defeated and crumbling, only stirred that darker instinct more.

But he held it back—for his wife, who waited for the kind, slightly childish husband she loved. He resisted the urge to destroy a weakened enemy.

“Live the rest of your life in fear. Trapped. Undying.”

Because this—this hell—was what Seonghwan feared most.

A man who only felt alive when feared and worshipped, spending the rest of his life rotting in prison? That alone would destroy him.

And given his history of growing sickly and listless the moment he lost control of the business, there was a good chance Taeheon wouldn’t even have to do anything. Sooner or later, the news might come on its own.

“If you let me out of here, I swear—nothing will be like before. I’ll support whatever you want to do! I mean, we’re blood—”

Seonghwan, looking like a man already dead, widened his eyes and scrambled to change his tone.

“Yes. Because we’re blood, I’ll never let you out.”

Taeheon’s voice turned cold and commanding.

“The only thing I want from you is to stay locked up here.”

“Live as though you’re dead.”

With that, Taeheon stood and left.

Behind him, screams rang out. Seonghwan cursed and begged, howling his name.

Taeheon didn’t look back. He walked out lightly.

Outside, it was already early summer.

“Everywhere was blanketed in fresh green. Blossoms in the underbrush flaunted vivid colors, and the air was fragrant with their scent.

Near a patch of golden coreopsis, a woman who had been peering into the flowerbed noticed Taeheon. Yaein, her chestnut-brown hair tucked behind her ears, smiled brightly.

Taeheon felt a wave of dizziness.

All the colors and scents seemed to swell a hundredfold. The world had grown overwhelmingly vivid, almost too much to bear. While he paused, Yaein came to him.

“Welcome home,” she said.

Rather than asking what it had been like inside, she simply took his hand.

Her greeting washed away the lingering bitterness that had been sloshing around in his chest. When he was with her, his senses expanded. The world took on new meaning, and

life became something worthwhile. The pathetic old man who used to be his father quickly faded from his thoughts.

Besides, there was too much to do to dwell on the past. Even though it was technically a day off with his work calendar cleared, they had many places to go.

Today was the day to pay respects to family.

After starting at the prison, the next stop was a place just as solemn as any detention center.

***

The columbarium was quiet. It was always a tranquil place, more spacious than crowded.

Whenever Yaein had come alone, she had felt the loneliness deeply—but not today. For the first time, she entered without that familiar sense of desolation.

“Grandma,” she said, stepping in front of the compartment that held the urn. A photo of her grandmother, taken with young Yaein, greeted her. The warm, deeply wrinkled smile from her grandmother’s living face seemed to say, “Welcome back, my dear.”

“Sorry I haven’t come in a while. But today, I brought the grandson-in-law you liked so much.”

Taeheon, who had been quietly following, stepped forward beside Yaein. She lifted their joined hands.

Their clasped hands reflected in the glass panel. Yaein’s expression was light, peaceful. If her grandmother could see her now, she’d surely be glad to say, “You finally look happy.”

Just like she had when her grandmother was alive, Yaein gently recounted recent events. In the end, it all came down to one thing: she was doing well. Unlike before, when she had to fake a smile and sprinkle in lies, today’s words were genuine.

“I’m really happy these days, Grandma.”

Yaein placed her hand against the glass and whispered.

Now she understood. Her grandmother would have loved her even if she hadn’t been a good student, even if she’d thrown tantrums and demanded things. That love had never depended on whether she was deserving of it. Even during the times Yaein had hated herself, her grandmother had loved her unconditionally.

And now Yaein knew what that kind of love felt like—because she had learned to give it.

She gently stroked the glass, warmed by her own body heat. She could now remember her grandmother’s love without guilt.

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore. We’ll come again.”

Just as they were about to leave, Yaein noticed something different beside the urn. She stopped in her tracks.

There were flowers.

Yaein hadn’t brought them.

The bouquet looked fresh, recently placed. She quietly considered who might have left them. Perhaps her mother?

Yaein decided not to check. She turned away.

“Something bothering you?” Taeheon asked.”

While Yaein was checking around the columbarium, Taeheon waited and asked, 

“Something bothering you?”

Yaein shook her head and crossed her arms. 

“No. Let’s go. We’ll be late.”

Taeheon didn’t press her further and walked toward the car. Maybe someday Yaein would tell him about the bouquet she saw. She might even wonder whether her mother had left it. But not now. 

Today, there was someone else far more important to see. 

The place they next arrived at was the university hospital where Yaein had been admitted. 

But this time, neither of them was here to be treated. As soon as they arrived, they headed to the neonatal intensive care unit. 

Though they had visited many times already, Yaein’s heart still fluttered every time she entered. 

She changed into slippers and a gown with practiced ease and clung tightly to Taeheon’s arm as they entered. 

Inside a tiny incubator, a baby even smaller was sleeping soundly. 

Born prematurely, the baby had only just passed two kilograms. So tiny, Yaein always worried he might disappear at any moment. She rose on tiptoe as if being drawn into the crib, eyes fixed on her baby.

“I want to sleep next to her.”

“He’s recovering well. The nurses said he might be discharged soon.”

As Yaein sighed, Taeheon reassured her with the nurse’s latest report. 

“She must take after you—being strong.”

Ever since the premature birth, Yaein had barely been able to sleep, fearing something might go wrong. But miraculously, the baby had grown steadily, even to the hospital staff’s surprise. 

With how well he was doing, the doctors were optimistic about him going home soon.

“I hope our baby grows up tough enough to walk off a gunshot too.”

“He has your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

“And your nose.”

“……”

“And your lips.”

Taeheon’s tone was so serious as he examined the not-yet-developed features of the newborn, it made Yaein laugh. He used to worry so much before the baby was born. 

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

Taeheon turned his head, gaze still fixed on their son. And suddenly, the tide of everything they had been through came rushing back to Yaein.

The day she found out she was pregnant. 

The moment she resolved to leave him. 

When he chased after her. 

When he tried to let her go. 

When he came to save her.

Tracing it all back led to the rainy day in the café, when a cold-eyed stranger sat across from her. 

Who would have imagined she’d someday receive a confession from that man?

“Do you remember what I said when we first met?”

“You said you had no intention of marrying me,” Taeheon teased with a smirk. He remembered too.

“I always thought I wanted to choose my own family. Because I’d never really had one.”

There had been a time when Yaein thought if she could go back, she would never have married this man. She couldn’t have known then where this would all lead. 

How much of life do we live without knowing anything at all? 

Why had the future seemed so impossibly dark?

“If I could go back, I’d still marry you. Every time.”

Taeheon smiled as he looked at her. A smile so natural it felt like breathing. 

Everything in that moment imprinted itself on her heart— 

The light, the sound, the scent of summer. 

The love rising quietly from deep inside her.

Yaein smiled back. 

Now, in this moment— 

You are here, and I am here. 

And between us sleeps a child who has never known pain, in a safe, clear crib.

Outside, the world was lush with green, soaked in the scent of summer.

Yaein wished she could tell her younger self, the girl who once wanted to run away from life— 

You’ll have something beautiful too. 

Someday, all your dreams will come true. 

So don’t be too sad. 

You’ll meet someone who stays. 

The pain won’t be the end of your story. 

He’ll be lonely too, so hold him close. 

Yaein leaned against Taeheon’s back. When she wrapped her arms around his waist, he held her close as if it were the most natural thing in the world. 

Their heartbeats melded together, a quickened rhythm like the waves. 

“I love you too,” she whispered.

Everything Yaein had ever wished for was now within her arms.

The eternal warmth of life. 

It had never come from nowhere— 

It had only left for a while, waiting in the shadows even on her darkest day, 

Promising it would return.

And when they kissed, Yaein knew:

She would never leave again.

**< The End **