Chapter 29

“Did something… happen?”

After coming out with the site staff, they had lunch. Everyone ate quickly, eager to finish and rest, so the pace was no joke. In the end, only Eunjae and Kiwon were left in the restaurant, slowly finishing their food. Kiwon didn’t seem to have much appetite, either.

Even though she knew the reason, pretending not to was tough. To break the awkward mood, Eunjae chose to mention Wooseok’s sudden absence.

Honestly, she was curious too. She could have asked during the call, but she sensed he didn’t want to talk about it. Knowing Wooseok always waited for her when she was like that, Eunjae couldn’t push him. Still, her desire to know everything about him wouldn’t stop.

“Why are you asking me?”

Kiwon looked up and, as expected, asked back.

“…Right.”

Eunjae gave a bitter smile, as if reflecting on herself, then focused on her food.

“Women are so weird. If they’re curious, they should just ask, but instead they wait for us to say it first. Then, if we do, they say it’s too late and don’t want to hear it, treating us like we’re nothing. How are we supposed to keep up?”

Kiwon suddenly started ranting. Eunjae looked at him again.

“Then you should go complain to my sister, not to me.”

Eunjae wasn’t one to just listen in silence. She shot back sharply, and Kiwon let out a dry laugh. He knew complaining to Eunjae wouldn’t get him anywhere. The two sisters had completely different personalities, and he knew that better than anyone.

“Wooseok’s mother…was admitted to the hospital.”

Kiwon stood up with his barely touched tray and gave Eunjae the answer she wanted. So that’s it. Even as Eunjae tried to accept it and move on, Kiwon left the restaurant, knowing her expression had grown more complicated. Eunjae just stared at her phone, unable to swallow her food.

Looking up at the hospital building, Eunjae took a deep breath. After checking the Sejong site, Kiwon had told her she could go home early. Eunjae got off near the office at a subway station in Seoul and called Wooseok first. The call didn’t go through.

After some thought, she found Wooseok’s mother’s number, saved long ago, and pressed call. Naturally, no one answered. Maybe the number was no longer in use. As she headed down into the subway entrance, a call came from that number. Eunjae answered right away, and instead of Wooseok’s mother, she heard his father’s voice.

When he asked who she was, Eunjae hesitated about what to say. The only time she’d seen Wooseok’s father was at Minwoo’s funeral. He wouldn’t know who she was. Eunjae introduced herself as a close colleague of Wooseok. When she asked about his mother, his father said nothing. Just as she apologized and tried to end the call, he unexpectedly gave her the name of the hospital. He added that Wooseok had packed his things at home and would be back in the evening, then hung up.

His tone was blunt, but there wasn’t any hostility toward her. It was a little different from how Wooseok always described his father. Trusting that feeling, Eunjae took courage. Instead of the subway, she grabbed a taxi straight to the hospital.

When she arrived, she bought a small gift at the hospital entrance. As she entered the lobby, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She checked—it was Wooseok. Seeing the missed call, she realized he’d called her back. As Eunjae pressed the call button, a loud voice echoed through the lobby.

“…Enough, please stop!”

“I know my own illness. What surgery? They’re just doing it for money… Let me go home. I’m so frustrated, I can’t stand it…”

When Seonjeong snatched her bag from Gwangho and turned away, she stopped in her tracks. She met Eunjae’s eyes and let out a hollow laugh. ‘Of course. That girl was doing as she pleased again.’ There was a fierce look in Seonjeong’s eyes as she stared at Eunjae.

Still, Eunjae approached Seonjeong and Gwangho to greet them.

“Hello.”

Seonjeong ignored her and walked past. Gwangho, tired of his wife’s behavior, just watched. Eunjae followed Seonjeong. After walking a bit, Seonjeong seemed to feel dizzy and paused to catch her breath. When Eunjae tried to support her, Seonjeong sharply pushed her hand away and raised her head.

“Don’t you get it? Even when I give you a hint, you don’t understand?”

“I know.”

Eunjae answered calmly.

“If you get it, stop. This won’t change anything.”

With a cold scolding, Seonjeong walked on. But Eunjae grabbed her arm again.

“Just to where you’re going. I can’t just walk away.”

Holding Seonjeong’s arm, Eunjae flagged down a taxi at the hospital entrance. Seonjeong looked annoyed but pushed Eunjae’s hand away and got into the back seat. She didn’t even have the energy to argue. Once she settled in, Eunjae got in the front. She told the driver Wooseok’s family’s address.

After the car started, Eunjae glanced back. Seonjeong, looking exhausted, had her eyes closed and head resting against the seat. Her body wasn’t in normal condition, and she’d used up all her energy in that short time. Eunjae turned forward and quietly looked out the window.

Her phone kept vibrating in her hand. Looking at the screen, she saw Wooseok’s name. She wasn’t sure if she should answer. If Wooseok said it was a family matter, she’d have nothing to say, but now she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t involved. This time, she really wanted to know the reason.

“Would you like a glass of water?”

Once at Wooseok’s family home, Eunjae helped Seonjeong into the master bedroom. She laid her on the bed and asked, but Seonjeong said nothing. With her eyes closed, she just turned her rosary beads in her hands, swallowing her breath as if praying.

Eunjae thought it was best to leave her alone. She turned off the bedroom light and started to leave, but in the dark room, Seonjeong’s low voice came.

“The day Minwoo died, Seok said he was going to see you.”

“…”

Eunjae had never heard this before. She turned to look at Seonjeong, who had sat up and turned her body toward the window. Facing Eunjae, as if she couldn’t bear to speak directly, Seonjeong continued, almost to herself.

“Yes, I know. I know it’s not your fault. I understand in my head. I’ve repeated it hundreds, thousands of times. But… my heart just can’t. Even when I pray, even when I cry out to the sky, my son doesn’t come back, and it feels so unfair. That day… that moment, I want to turn it back.”

At first, Eunjae didn’t understand what she meant, but soon her heart pounded as if it would burst. Facing the truth from Wooseok’s mother, Eunjae felt her mind go blank. After a moment, Seonjeong turned and looked at Eunjae, finally meeting her eyes.

“I… even now when I see you, I think of Minwoo first. That’s why… I told Wooseok not to. I told him to just stay friends with you. If you can’t live without seeing each other, can’t you just do that much? Hm? Eunjae… I’m… asking you.”

Bang. At that moment, the door slammed open and shut. Someone quickly ran toward the master bedroom. Still, Eunjae couldn’t turn around. Her feet felt glued to the spot.

“Come with me.”

Someone grabbed her, and Eunjae’s gaze wavered. She recognized the familiar shoes. Wooseok had run into the room without even taking off his shoes and gripped her wrist tightly. His grip was so strong, she could barely feel her blood flow. Eunjae looked up at Wooseok. His eyes, veins standing out, stared down at her.

“Let’s go, Shin Eunjae.”

Wooseok spoke, biting his lip, looking pained. Eunjae tried to look back at his mother, but her body was already being pulled away by Wooseok. As she hurriedly put on her shoes and stepped outside, Wooseok’s father was standing in the yard.

Wooseok passed his father and put Eunjae in his car. Nothing else seemed to matter. Eunjae glanced at him and met Gwangho’s eyes. The middle-aged man looked lost, as if he couldn’t find his way. She didn’t know why that stood out to her in this moment.

The words Wooseok’s mother had spoken floated around in her head, then vanished, leaving only fragments. Seonjeong’s plea to Eunjae. Jung Wooseok stepping into the master bedroom with his shoes on. His father standing in the middle of the yard. Eunjae felt all three people’s pain, unable to say a word.