Chapter 5 – That Bastard (Part 5)

Thinking of Dowook from that day, a bitter taste rose from within.

What did I say to such a man? Although I was sometimes mean and harsh, there were more tender moments. Dowook did nothing wrong but treat me well. There was no need to hurt him with words like I was tired and bored. I shouldn’t have made Dowook suffer just because my heart was troubled.

It had become a habit. When Junhee was having a hard time, Dowook was always the easiest and most approachable for her. He had long trained her to be that way.

Knowing that, Junhee couldn’t justify her actions. She knew that ending things with harsh words was a mix of venting her frustration with her difficult reality and an unavoidable sense of inferiority.

The hardest thing about being by Dowook’s side was not being able to fully rejoice in his success.

She now regretted hurting Dowook because she couldn’t stand seeing herself crumble beside him. In truth, it was because she wasn’t strong enough.

She had convinced herself that her heart had completely cooled. That Dowook’s affection and attention were no longer welcome because she was tired of this love. That it was more comfortable being alone than with Dowook. That being with him was no longer enjoyable. So she broke up with him.

She hated herself for feeling worthless without Choi Dowook, couldn’t stand the brilliant people surrounding him, got tired of trying to earn Song Yeong-joo’s recognition, felt overwhelmed by an uncertain future, and was horrified by the gazes and words of people in the crowd. Thinking she couldn’t endure any longer, she ended everything.

She thought cutting ties would ease her stifled heart a little.

Even after escaping from those things, Junhee still felt powerless. The invisible future was daunting, and the time she had to endure alone was painful.

She shouldn’t have taken her frustration out on her grandmother. It wasn’t unreasonable for her grandmother to keep relying on Heejeongwon and Choi Dowook when she herself had been doing the same. She was still doing it now.

If only Dowook were here now. If only she could call Dowook now. These endless, repetitive thoughts were the chronic disease of a long relationship. 

What should I do now, what can I do without Dowook… 

Her thoughts always ended there.

***

After sleeping, her fever had somewhat subsided. She got up with a lighter body, but there was still no one at home. She stared at a point in the dark void. The endlessly quiet night felt sorrowful.

She missed her father. She missed him so much, but the sudden realization that she could no longer see him tightened her chest. 

When will I be able to see Dad again? Why can’t I see Dad? Will I only be able to see him when I die? Can I see him if I die? 

Her father’s face in her mind was fading. She couldn’t recall his voice anymore. 

Dad. Dad. Where are you, Dad?

Suddenly, none of it felt real. The reality was terrifying, and she couldn’t breathe. She clutched her chest and lay down. It felt like someone was gripping her nape. Just as she felt like she was being helplessly dragged down into a deep abyss.

From afar, she heard a loud exhaust sound tearing through the silence. The sound was familiar. She tilted her head in confusion. She held her breath and focused on the sound outside. The sound grew closer and louder, as if it was tearing through her ears. It stopped right in front of the gate.

Junhee, who had been staring blankly into the void, got up as if possessed. She opened the door, went out to the veranda, and put on her shoes. Her feet didn’t fit well into the shoes, perhaps because she was in a hurry. While she was struggling, the gate opened with a bang.

It was Choi Dowook. The one crossing the gate with eyes gleaming like a beast before a hunt was undoubtedly Choi Dowook. Her body, which had been trying hard to put on the shoes, froze like a ghost.

Dowook also slowed his pace when he spotted Junhee. His gaze moved from her bare feet, slowly traveling upward until it finally rested on her eyes. His face was shadowed deeply, perhaps because it was late at night.

“…Why are you here?”

She asked while sitting. This time, his eyes scanned the shabby household items instead of Junhee. Beyond the open gate, she could see his fancy car parked haphazardly.

“How did you get here at this hour?”

“Used the GPS.”

“What?”

“The gate was open.”

“……”

“I thought it was left open for anyone to come in.”

Dowook wore an extremely displeased expression despite barging into someone else’s house at this hour.

“Houses in the countryside are usually like this.”

“Really?”

He raised his eyebrows and looked at the open gate. The gate creaked with rust as the wind blew. Dowook’s hair also fluttered haphazardly in the night wind.

“But you should lock it.”

“Why should I?”

“You’re a girl, aren’t you afraid?”

“And you? A man, aren’t you afraid to enter any house just because the gate is open?”

At Junhee’s sharp retort, Dowook looked down at her for a while. Suddenly, she became conscious of her appearance. She was wearing her grandmother’s elastic pants, a loose short-sleeved t-shirt, and a striped cardigan. She wanted to think it didn’t matter, but Dowook had a knack for making her self-conscious with just a glance.

“I misspoke.”

His relaxed apology was somehow arrogant. Knowing that it was Dowook’s nature and a habit ingrained over a long time, Junhee didn’t bother to point it out.

“Coming here was also a mistake.”

“Yes, it was a mistake.”

“……”

“Oh, I made a huge mistake.”

Dowook brushed back his hair as it fluttered in the night wind and tilted his head sideways. He scanned the yard and let out a nervous laugh. Muttering that he shouldn’t have come, that he shouldn’t be here.

“When I came to my senses, I found myself here.”

It sounded like he cursed under his breath.

“I was supposed to wait for a month. Everyone told me to wait. They said it would be better, so why am I here?”

He laughed bitterly, brushed his lips, and looked at Junhee again. His gaze, as if appraising her like a strange object, was both unfamiliar and familiar.

“I should have worked out hard and focused on my work to make you, who abandoned me, regret it.”

Junhee couldn’t fully understand Dowook’s words. Her heart just pounded unpleasantly fast. It had been like that ever since she saw him crossing the gate. Junhee gripped the veranda floor with her hands.

“It’s good to see you.”

A wind blew through. The trees, crowded in the small yard, rustled their leaves. Dowook also suddenly laughed out loud.

“I’m here acting like an idiot.”

His laugh, unlike his twisted demeanor, was gentle. But the smile soon disappeared. He seemed annoyed by Junhee, who sat silently on the veranda, looking up at him like a stranger.

With a blank face, Dowook tilted his head.

“Why have you become prettier since I last saw you?”

Words spoken with a face full of coldness didn’t sound sincere.

“Didn’t you miss me?”

Junhee didn’t answer.

“I had so many things I wanted to say when I saw you again. So many things I wanted to ask.”

Dowook gave his characteristic crooked smile. He paused mid-sentence and bit his lips.

“I can’t remember. There’s just one thing I’m curious about.”

“……”

“Didn’t you think of me?”

Suddenly, Junhee remembered how hard she had tried to stay by Dowook’s side for a long time. The unbridgeable gap between them, the things she realized painfully as she grew up.

Despite that, she shamelessly and greedily desired him. Because she liked Choi Dowook. Because he cherished her. Even after enduring such humiliation, staying by Dowook’s side made her forget everything like a fool.

And yet, she was proud and greedy, wanting so much. She didn’t want to lose to Choi Dowook of Taesan. She didn’t want to hear that her situation was much inferior to Dowook’s. She even wanted Song Yeong-joo’s recognition and affection. All those desires, including her yearning for Choi Dowook, rushed back. Things she once desperately wanted.

From the beginning, we were never on the same level.

It might be a waste of time, but eventually, you’ll realize it on your own. Such a mismatched relationship won’t last long.

She wanted to prove that those words were wrong.