There won't be a second season yet
But here comes the sequel!
Just a few days after their unexpected yet significant encounter in the café, Park Dong Hoon received a bold text from Lee Ji An:
– I’m starving! Buy me something to eat!
After a few seconds, another message followed:
Just kidding 😊 I’ll buy you something expensive to eat!
She had transformed from the reserved girl she once was. Today, no one would believe how introverted, distrustful, and despondent she used to be. Ji An’s employers and coworkers now valued her intelligence, her exceptional organization skills, creativity, and friendly disposition. Yes, our 'wild girl’ had become known for her niceness and – imagine this – cheerful nature. You all saw how brightly and fashionably she was dressed at that accidental meeting with Dong Hoon. He himself couldn’t conceal the immense impression she made on him. Remember? But let’s get back to the text messages.
Dong Hoon was in the middle of a business meeting when he received the first notification. His phone lay next to the documents he was discussing with a client, so he merely glanced at the display and… was stunned! It felt as though he had been transported back in time. He lost the thread of the conversation and started to mumble something incomprehensible to the other party. The arrival of the second text and its content flashing before his eyes completely derailed him from the topic, an occurrence that had never happened to him before. He excused himself to the client, mentioning he needed to urgently visit the restroom.
Although he had seen her recently and had spoken to her, these two texts deeply stirred him, leaving him unable to collect his thoughts. He stared at his phone for several minutes, while cherished memories fluttered through his mind. Thankfully, the restroom was empty because, upon looking into the mirror, he noticed tears in his eyes, and his hand holding the phone was noticeably trembling.
– What’s happening to me? – he spoke aloud, startling himself – It’s nothing major, right? Just a meetup, we’ll chat, reminisce… – he lied to himself.
Eventually, he realized that some time had passed and Lee Ji An must surely be awaiting his response.
– Where and when shall we meet? – he typed and sent, still standing utterly disconcerted. – I have a meeting now. I’ll contact you later – he added, much like she did, with a second text.
He washed his face with cold water, ran his hand through his hair, straightened up, and tried to return to the client with a composed expression. Yet, the tremor inside him persisted.
Upon reading both his messages, Ji An pondered where to invite him. Seoul was brimming with options, but she struggled to decide. No, she didn’t want to impress or surprise him. She wished for a friendly, quiet place with expensive but delicious food. She was very tempted to revisit Hoogye with him. After searching online and, thanks to many positive recommendations and appealing photos, she chose an unfamiliar restaurant (apparently new) called „You’ll Return Here!” The unusual name intrigued and pleased her. She sent its location to Dong Hoon and asked when he would be available for their meeting.
When he received the message, he had just finished the meeting and was about to leave his company’s office. And boom! He was knocked out once again. The restaurant Lee Ji An wanted to invite him to was literally across the street from the house he had been living in for a few months.
– Did she research and find out where I live? – he wondered, as it seemed like something she would do – Nah, impossible… – he convinced himself. He enjoyed dining there since the food was truly delicious. – Did she see me there? – his mind kept racing – Nah, impossible… It must be a coincidence. – but he still found it hard to believe in such a coincidence.
– I’m free Saturday afternoon. Suggest a time – he replied.
Ji An was delighted because, despite the short notice, she managed to reserve a table for two and… didn’t have to wait long for the meeting, as Saturday was just two days away.
– 3:17 PM, 'You’ll Return Here!’ restaurant, table under my name – she added a gif of an elegant meal and hit „send.”
– 3:17 PM? What kind of time is that? – Dong Hoon was puzzled once again that day. – Maybe she just hit the wrong key – he thought.
„That’s OK. We have an appointment – he replied from the elevator. Looking again at his reflection in the mirror, he didn’t recognize himself with that expression of tenderness, emotion, and hope. – What’s happening to me? Dude! It’s just a nice reunion after years. Just like the ones you used to have… It’s nothing. Nothing at all! – he didn’t realize he had spoken the last sentence out loud while exiting the elevator. In fact, he had seen little since receiving her first text.
Everything in the past few days had unfolded at such a pace as if someone had cranked up the speed on a movie reel. Before, when Lee Ji An had moved to Busan and Park Dong Hoon left the corporation to start his own business, time was mercilessly sluggish. Their separation ached like a chasm in the heart, impossible to fill with anything. Life moved on, ostensibly normal, yet unbearably slow.
For Dong Hun, it was a cycle of work, family, Hoogye, work, family, Hoogye… For Ji An, a new world opened up: new people, new opportunities. The external life brightened and gained meaning. She began to appreciate spring and the other seasons, but internally, something—or perhaps more accurately, someone—was missing. Even admitting this inner truth is hard for me, so imagine how difficult it was for them to come to terms with it…
Do you know the feeling? When you bury the void in your heart under the daily routine, the noise of the world, running so far because you’re tired of the pain of loss, the longing, the illusions. You want to forget, so you lose yourself in the mad whirl of each day, focusing intently on it.
But that only lasts so long… Only until life, in its perversity, places you in a situation where all the accumulated scenery, masks, props fall away, and the chasm in your heart is revealed in all its grandeur, nay! You see it’s even larger and more painful! Do you know what I mean?
If so, you’ll understand what truly happened during that seemingly insignificant meeting of Ji An and Dong Hoon, charged with a brief exchange of texts and the prospect of an imminent reunion. Their carefully constructed defenses crumbled, and they once again became vulnerable to the truth of their own feelings and desires.
Do you think something will come of it? I myself am not sure yet… We must wait for the continuation of events.
Standing by the window, he gazed down upon the entrance and the glass-walled hall of the restaurant „Return Here!” His thoughts fluttered between memories and imaginations of the upcoming Saturday meeting, then back to memories again. Time lost its grip on him, yet today, no soul awaited his presence. He skipped both the lunch with his company friends and the drinking session at Jeong Hee’s (of course!). The mood to converse with anyone today had eluded him entirely. In silence, he preferred to ponder the possible strategies for meeting Lee Ji An, feeling through his very skin that this would be a pivotal moment in his life, though he dared not articulate this sensation even in his thoughts.
His newly settled life once again trembled at its foundations, and Dong Hun yearned to maintain control. The hard-won balance and stability he had achieved could be threatened by the surge of old and new feelings, hopes, and desires. Especially those deepest ones, painstakingly buried over the last years.
„Should I go there early and wait, or would it be better to arrive right on time, or perhaps with a slight delay?” he wondered.
Each option was simple to execute in his situation. Yet, he was uncertain which was optimal. Showing up before Ji An would unveil his impatience. Arriving on time would make him feel stiff and formal, and being late was entirely out of character for him.
„Since when did I become so meticulous?” he caught himself in a moment of displeasing self-criticism. „Just the thought processes regarding this meeting are embarrassing for a man nearing his fifties.” It was a relief that he had no need to speak of this to anyone – he looked at his reflection in the window, now significantly darkened. „Why do I care so much… and experience this so intensely?” For a moment, he couldn’t even name his state of mind.
He moved away from the window, sat on the sofa, and turned on the television, but – of course – he neither heard nor saw anything. Thoughts and feelings still churned within him as if they had completely broken free.
„Oh, this doesn’t look good,” he clicked the remote, turning off the television. „Maybe it would have been better to go to Jeong Hee’s and have a drink with the brothers and colleagues? I probably won’t sleep tonight anyway! Someone turn me off!” He began to truly panic. „For a mature man like me to tremble at the thought of meeting a young woman! Perhaps hyong was right when he said that we, the three brothers, have very little experience with women… I’m only now understanding that.”
He decided to take a walk, maybe even a run, to exhaust his body and drown out the emotions dominating him.
Do you wish to know what transpired within the mind and heart of Lee Ji An during this time? Of course, you do!
It must be acknowledged that her situation appeared much simpler. After all, she was still a young woman, with life wide open before her. Especially after her breakthrough and years of transformation. Ji An had become confident in herself and her abilities, no longer fearing people. She lacked nothing, neither for housing, shoes, nor food; in fact, she could even save quite a bit, as she earned significantly more than when she had been washing dishes after work at the corporation. No one took her hard-earned money anymore, and no one entered her space, her apartment, or her life uninvited.
The only thing that remained unchanged was the deep connection she still felt towards her ajhussi. She did not look back at the handsome men increasingly hovering around her. She did not go on blind dates or any other arranged meetings of that sort. Her standards, elevated by Dong Hun, were so high that no one had yet met even half of them. A bad situation? Not necessarily! Ji An was consciously and subconsciously waiting for… for something she was firmly convinced was about to arrive.
The first sign that another change was approaching was her company’s decision to delegate her to the headquarters in Seoul. She knew that sooner or later she would encounter Park Dong Hun, and if that happened, she could easily assess their new situation and contact. She decided that if Dong Hun had dealt with his marriage, forgiven his wife, and they were still living together, she would remain on the sidelines, treating him as a friend. But if it turned out they had separated, oh! then she did not even hide from herself that she would fight for him! She cared not that he would soon be 50, and she was half his age!
– It really is nothing! It means nothing! – she thought, and most importantly, she was deeply convinced of this. After all, she had been trained by him himself, with one hundred percent confirmation.
So, you see, my dear ones, a most intriguing collision of stances, emotions, feelings, and expectations is on the horizon for this Saturday meeting. It promises to be quite the event, oh, it certainly does!
On a Friday around noon, the firm of Park Dong Hun received a call from a client with a request for a current safety evaluation of several buildings, one of which needed to be inspected that very day. His colleagues reacted with a measure of nervousness, as they had been looking forward to an early departure from work and the start of their weekend; such inspections usually required extended working hours.
But those familiar with Dong Hun know well that he is always guided by his conscience and duty. Naturally, he accepted the assignment and decided to proceed with just one employee. The rest were reassured of their early start to the weekend festivities. They quickly packed the equipment and set off to the site.
In the waning rays of the afternoon sun, Park Dong Hun, alongside a company representative, Mr. Kim, conducted the inspection of the external walls of an old office building. Mr. Kim, with a brow furrowed in uncertainty, watched as Dong Hun meticulously examined every crevice.
„President, are you certain this is safe? These walls seem to be in a deplorable state,” observed Hyung Kyu, the youngest of the employees he had brought along.
Dong Hun, with a gaze intense in its focus, scrutinized the cracks that meandered along the wall. „We must investigate this thoroughly. Safety is our priority, and these walls may conceal more than meets the eye,” he replied, his voice steady, his words precisely chosen.
However, during their conversation, as they moved to the other side of the building, the air suddenly filled with a subtle, yet unmistakable scent of gas. Dong Hun immediately halted, his senses sharpening. „Do you smell that?” he asked Hyung Kyu. „Is that gas?” The young man became visibly anxious and instinctively stepped back, taking cover behind the corner of the building.
Before Dong Hun could respond, the world around them erupted in a colossal climax of sound and heat. A powerful blast forcefully propelled Dong Hun into the air, with a might that seemed to defy reality. His body, spinning limply through the air, was like a leaf caught in a storm’s vortex.
He felt all his senses pierced by pain and heat, and then, for a moment, the world quieted, and time seemed to slow. Before he could form another thought, darkness and silence enveloped him completely, swallowing every flicker of consciousness.
Lee Ji An was just about to leave her office when her heart suddenly fluttered, and a strange unease seized her mind. It had been a long time since she had experienced such sensations. In the past, this would happen when her grandmother was left alone at home, and a ruthless creditor unexpectedly invaded, tormenting her. She would drop everything and rush home to save the elderly woman, but today, she had no clue what was happening.
In the elevator, she caught her reflection in the mirror and noticed how terribly pale she looked, her hand trembling as she adjusted her hair.
„Something is definitely not right,” she thought, unable to pinpoint the source of her unease, which frightened her even more.
Yeon Hyung Kyu został zabrany do szpitala razem z Park Dong Hoon, ale właściwie nie odniósł żadnych obrażeń. Jednak ratownicy uznali, że jest w szoku i musi być obserwowany przez jakiś czas. W karetce siedział, jak spetryfikowany, bez ruchu i bez żadnego wyrazu na twarzy. Podano mu leki uspokajające i pozwolono siedzieć w tylnej części miejsca przeznaczonego dla pacjentów. Cała uwaga ratowników skupiła się na Dong Hoon. Rozcięto mu ubranie i uruchomiono respirowanie mechaniczne. Kontrolowano jego parametry życiowe. Jedne z ratowników na bieżąco udzielał informacji dla szpitala, do którego był wieziony, aby tam przygotowano odpowiednie służby i pomieszczenia. Nie wyglądało to dobrze.
Nawet odrętwiały Hyung Kyu zdawał sobie sprawę, że jest źle, nawet bardzo źle. Nagle zaczął odczuwać drżenie całego ciała, którego nie mógł opanować. Dostrzegł to jeden z ratowników i okrył kocem termicznym zwracając się do niego spokojnym, pełnym otuchy tonem.
– Proszę się nie martwić, to nie wygląda dobrze, ale pana przełożony żyje i daje sobie radę. Szpital jest już przygotowany i zostanie oddany w dobre ręce. – tłumaczył rozdygotanemu mężczyźnie – Wyjdzie z tego – dorzucił ściskając mu drżące dłonie w geście dodania odwagi.
Kiedy dojechali na miejsce, co prawda Yeon Hyung Kyu wyszedł pierwszy z karetki, aby zrobić miejsce na wyjazd noszy, ale to Park Dong Hoon zajęto się jako pierwszym. Oddelegowana do niego ekipa już czekała przed wejściem i natychmiast go przejęła szybko wwożąc do środka. Dopiero wówczas ktoś podszedł do drugiego pacjenta, posadził na wózku i zabrał na oddział ratunkowy.
Minęła może godzina, nim biedny Hyung Kyu pół leżąc na łóżku kończył przyjmowanie kolejnej kroplówki i powoli wychodził z odrętwienia.
– Czy ktoś w pracy już wie o wypadku? – to była pierwsza jego myśl – Czy jego rodzina wie już o tym? – nie potrafił odtworzyć biegu wydarzeń, które się dopiero co rozegrały.
Poszukał telefonu w kieszeni służbowej kurtki i wybrał numer szefa sekcji, Song Seok Beom. Ten dość długo nie odbierał, ale w końcu najwyraźniej już zakropionym alkoholem głosem zapytał:
– Łe? Skończyliście już? Chcecie do nas dołączyć?
Hyung Kyu przez chwilę się zastanawiał, bo jego umysł był wciąż otępiały.
– Hyung… – wydusił zachrypniętym głosem – hyung…
– Łe, łe, łe? – wyduś wreszcie, o co chodzi? – niecierpliwił się Seok Beom, a tle słychać było nawoływania reszty towarzystwa.
– Hyung… był wypadek… szef jest w szpitalu… Chyba go operują…
W słuchawce zapadła cisza, bo Seok Beom nakazał ręką, by towarzystwo się uciszyło. W jednej chwili wytrzeźwiał i zarzucił młodszego przyjaciela lawiną pytań.
– Jaki wypadek? Co się stało? Gdzie jesteście? W jakim szpitalu? Jaka operacja? – i dużo więcej znaków zapytania posypało się w stronę wciąż roztrzęsionego Hyung Kyu. – Zaraz tam będziemy! – rzucił na koniec.
I rzeczywiście, nie minęło 20 minut, jak on i Dae Ri wpadli z impetem do szpitala. Odszukali Hyung Kyu i teraz już twarzą w twarz rzucali pytaniami. Jednak dość szybko zorientowali się, że ten nie jest w najlepszej kondycji i przystopowali trochę. Seok Beom stwierdził, że pójdzie dowiedzieć się osobiście, a Kim Dae Ri podsunął sobie stołek i usiadł przy koledze. Jeszcze nigdy nie widziano na jego twarzy takiej powagi, jak teraz.
When Seok Beom returned with the news of the current situation, his face was ashen, a peculiar shadow cast across his features. Heavily, he sat by Hyung Kyu’s bed, took a deep breath, and spoke in a burdened voice:
„They’re fighting for the boss’s life… He’s suffered severe burns to his head, face, neck, throat, and chest… He’s on the operating table… There’s no word yet on what’s happening… The surgery will be very long… There’s no full guarantee that the boss will survive it, nor that it will be successful…”
He fell silent and bowed his head, a previously suppressed sob breaking from his chest. Dae Ri wrapped an arm around him, though tears were in his own eyes. The youngest among them, who had just begun to think somewhat logically again, was trembling through his entire body. The trio was acutely aware of the gravity of the situation, their helplessness making them feel utterly useless.
„Ah, they asked me to contact the boss’s family, but I didn’t know whom to give them. Such tragic news,” Seok Beom continued in a trembling voice. „I told them we would inform the family ourselves, who will surely come here. Let’s decide together who to call first, for I truly do not know…” – he looked at his friends with tearful eyes.
„Definitely not to mom!” Dae Ri blurted out immediately.
„That leaves either the oldest brother or the youngest,” Seok Beom said. „I don’t know, really, I don’t know who to tell first. One will break down crying, and the other will explode,” he concluded.
„I’d call the younger one,” Hyung Kyu chimed in. „He’s rash, but he can think and act logically.”
„Do you think so?” asked Seok Beom. „And you, Dae Ri, whom would you choose?” he turned to the other friend.
„The kid’s probably right. Let’s call Gi Hun. There’s no time to waste.” He pulled out his smartphone, took another deep breath, and dialed the call.
The few seconds they waited for him to pick up stretched into infinity. The phone was on speaker, so everyone heard the dial tone.
„What’s up, bro?” they heard Gi Hun’s familiar voice, Park Dong Hun’s younger brother. „Do I need to pick up hyong or what?” Gi Hun thought they had partied too hard again and he’d have to drive Dong Hun home.
„Um,” Seok Beom cleared his throat nervously. „It’s not that…” he continued in an unsure voice. „You see, you have to come to the hospital… Your hyong had an accident…”
„What! What!?” Gi Hun reacted as expected, very anxiously. „But he’s alright, isn’t he?” he shouted into the phone. „He’s alright, right? Answer me, you jerk!” they heard him likely scrambling to put on his shoes.
„Well… the boss is alive…” Seok Beom tried to keep his voice as calm as possible. „He’s undergoing surgery. You need to come here as a guardian. They’ll tell you everything…”
„And you can’t explain what happened?” he dashed out of the house.
„You see, it’s not a conversation for over the phone… Just come as fast as you can.”
„Iii Shii!” Gi Hun cursed, and they heard him hail a cab. „I’ll be there soon, just quickly tell me which hospital, the driver is listening.”
Ji An decided that Saturday, besides her meeting with her ahjussi, would be devoid of any other significant events. She rose quite early, in a rather good mood, and ventured out for a quick shopping trip, as the refrigerator had begun to echo emptiness after a week’s worth of work. Returning from her grocery purchases, she paused momentarily in front of a boutique displaying branded apparel, for on the display, a pair of sneakers caught her eye… yes, sneakers! In this regard, she hadn’t changed much. She cherished simplicity and comfort.
„Hmm, perhaps I’ll wear these to the meeting,” she mused defiantly, remembering how Dong Hun had teased her for wearing such inadequate shoes in the winter. „These, at least, are of good brand and have a pleasant color.”
Now, she could afford even the unexpected whims that seldom came her way. Yet today, her spirits were so high that even the purchase of something unnecessary seemed fitting. She entered, made her purchase without even trying them on, confident they would fit perfectly. Once home, she finally prepared herself breakfast.
She gazed at her new acquisition, pondering what to pair them with. She had no intention of dressing overly elegant, but desired to signify through bright colors that her heart too was now bathed in much more light. Ultimately, she opted for jeans, a T-shirt in a shade close to that of her new sneakers, sky blue, and over that, a large, button-down shirt with a collar, in white.
Her makeup was very subtle. Since working in Busan, she had grown accustomed to, like other women, accentuating her facial features while concealing imperfections. This was something she could afford, and it even brought her pleasure not to stand out from her colleagues at work. And this was one of the less significant changes in Ji An.
By two in the afternoon, she was fully prepared. A taxi was booked for half an hour later. All that was left was to wait. She wasn’t nervous, but she was certainly excited. After all, this was no ordinary meeting. It was a reunion with her ahjussi, the most important person to her, though still physically distant.
Dwelling on this thought since waking, she had forgotten the strange anxiety that had seized her the day before. Clearly, the emotions of the present day had overshadowed the previous unsettling feelings. Waiting for the meeting, she hadn’t planned what to say or how to behave. She never liked to pretend or to fashion herself into someone she wasn’t, especially not in front of Park Dong Hun. With him, she was always honest, even when silent.
It’s time to go,” she noted around half past two. She stood, gave her reflection one last glance, took her bag, slipped on her new sneakers by the door—“Fighting!” she whispered to herself for luck, and left her apartment.
She arrived at the venue well ahead of time, but such was her plan. Desiring to be the first to arrive, she wished to ensure the reservation was in order and to simply wait at the table for Dong Hun. After all, it was she who had invited him, so it seemed only right to treat him as her distinguished guest this time. Contemplating such minutiae allowed her to keep her emotions at bay, emotions she undeniably felt but chose not to reveal until she could assess the situation fully. She had no intention of complicating Dong Hun’s life once more.
With everything prepared, she sat at the table, drifting into memories of Busan. „How did I endure it?” she marveled to herself, astonished at how far and long she had been from him. Memories of nights spent almost howling in loneliness and the sheer willpower it took not to jump on a train to Seoul just for a glimpse of him resurfaced. Many times, she had reached for her phone, his number glaring back at her, but the knowledge of his efforts to rebuild his family life held her back from calling. The fact that he never called hurt deeply, yet she understood his predicament, even feeling the weight of his struggles after his wife’s betrayal.
„But you could have called…” she thought with a sigh and a reluctant admission. Indeed, it’s hard to fool one’s own heart. It invariably unveils the most meticulously laid plans of the mind and its finest excuses.
Her gaze wandered to the window, as their table was right by the restaurant’s display. The weather was spring-like, a truly magical time in Seoul. Pink blossoms adorned the trees, the sun was not too scorching, and the air was filled with the sweet disarray of love. Such was the scene on this street as well. She glanced at a modern apartment building across the way and wondered, „Perhaps Dong Hun was involved in its development?” It seemed just like him: simple, sturdy, aesthetic. „I could live here,” she mused.
For the first time, she checked the time on her phone laid on the table. It was now 3:17 PM.
„Hmm, perhaps he’s caught in traffic, or maybe he missed the train if he took the subway?” her mind unconsciously searched for reasons for her guest’s absence.
After taking a sip of water, she returned to observing the street. To the waiter who approached, she mentioned she was still waiting for another person and would signal when they needed something. She hardly noticed when the bustling street scene faded from view, her mind busily crafting its own images.
„Maybe he forgot… Perhaps he mixed up the times… Could he have gone to the wrong address… Maybe…” she caught herself genuinely starting to worry. The anxiety from the day before returned with increased force, layering over her current uncertainty. „This isn’t like him at all!” She checked their text message exchange again, everything seemed normal. Had he wished to cancel or been unable to attend, he would have said so outright. After all, this was her ahjussi, whom she knew so well.
After a half-hour of waiting, she decided to send another message, a playful reminder of their meeting. She sent it, but it remained unread! Reluctantly, she tapped the green call button. A dial tone was swiftly replaced by a message stating the phone’s owner was currently unreachable or had their device turned off.
„How can this be!” This reality seemed so surreal that she tried calling again, only for the operator to ruthlessly confirm that the call could not be connected.
Lee Ji An was utterly bewildered. It had never occurred to her that Dong Hun might simply not show up, let alone be unreachable.
„And now what?” she thought, feeling the tears start to roll down her cheeks.
In the hospital, Gi Hun was the first to arrive, closely followed by Sang Hun, the eldest brother. Now, four men had gathered around Hyung Kyu’s bed, each lamenting in their own way. After everyone had somewhat expressed themselves, Sang Hun broached the essential question:
„How and when do we tell mother?”—he looked at the faces of the others—”We need to tell her, for it’s uncertain whether Dong Hun will survive the surgery,” he added with an uncertain voice.
„But how do you plan to inform her?”—asked Dae Ri—”Surely not over the phone?”—he looked at his brothers.
They too exchanged glances filled with pain and uncertainty. A silence fell. Each of these men was searching their mind for a way to convey to their aging mother that her beloved son, whom she had always worried about, was in a very grave condition and might even die. How to do it?
I think it’s one of the toughest challenges there is. Informing a wife about the death of her husband is not as painful as delivering any bad news to a mother about her child. Yet, someone must undertake it, for the mother cannot be left unaware of the situation. Now, this task awaited one of the brothers. Who would bear such a burden? Who could handle it?
„Alright… I’ll do it,” Gi Hun declared—”I’ll go to her and tell her in person. I just need to calm down and figure out how to say it,”—he looked around at those present—”any tips?”
„Don’t go into a long preamble, because mothers have their intuition and probably, as soon as she sees you, she’ll sense that something’s wrong,” SeoK Beom advised—”so don’t make her more anxious than she needs to be.”
„Yeah, I agree,” Dae Ri nodded—”make sure she’s seated, but don’t tell her to sit down! Just seat her yourself, then calmly and in simple words, speak your piece.”
„And what if she faints?” Gi Hun asked, visibly frightened.
„Our mom isn’t that fragile,” Sang Hun joined the discussion—”she’s seen a lot and been through a lot. She’ll withstand this too. She’ll be devastated, but she definitely won’t faint.”
„In that case, I’m off to see her, and you guys wait here for the end of the surgery. If there’s any news, call me right away!” he added as he was leaving.
„Sure! Don’t worry about it! Go! You can handle this. Bring her here!” the others patted him on the back and offered encouragement as best they could.
Gi Hoon had accomplished his task admirably. Within a mere two hours, he had returned with her to the hospital. Yet, although the elderly woman tried her utmost to conceal her emotions, everyone could see how deeply moved she was. The trio once again visited the information desk to inquire about Park Dong Hoon’s condition, but there were no new updates. They were directed to the surgical ward, where a doctor or even the entire surgical team might emerge at any moment.
Thus, they left Dong Hoon’s colleagues behind and positioned themselves outside the operating room to await the end of the surgery.
„I feel sorry for the boss’s mom,” admitted Seok Beom, „Actually, I sympathize with all of them,” he quickly added.
„Well, they are all so closely knit, and the boss always seemed to be the apple of his family’s eye. Now, suddenly, this tragedy…” Dae Ri observed somberly.
„Stop wallowing in gloom!” Hyung Kyu, though he was also a victim, tried to maintain a positive attitude in this overwhelmingly depressive situation. „You moan like old women!” he added.
„You’re right, young man,” Seok Beom agreed, „let’s focus on the fact that the boss survived, and our Korean doctors are truly excellent. If they are still fighting for him, there must be a chance that things will turn out well.” He got up from his stool to stretch his legs. „And how are you feeling now? Oh! Your IV is almost done!” he noted.
„After seeing the boss’s family, I forgot about my own trauma. Really, nothing happened to me; I just got scared, so I’ll manage somehow. I don’t know what they’ve pumped into me, but yes, I do feel better,” he declared in a quite normal voice.
„But you know what I’ve been thinking about?” Dae Ri chimed in.
„What?” the other two asked.
„Shouldn’t we also inform Lee Ji An?” he blurted out unexpectedly—after all, she was his close friend, or something like that. Don’t you think?”
„Hmm, I hadn’t thought of that,” Seok Beom confessed. „It’s been so long since I last saw her, and we’ve hardly mentioned her, that she slipped my mind.”
„Do you know if the boss kept in touch with her after she moved to Busan?” asked Hyung Kyu, the youngest of the trio.
„Exactly!” Dae Ri got excited. „The boss never talked about her. I don’t remember anything, do you?”
„We haven’t heard anything either,” they confirmed.
„Still, I think she would want to know about this accident and the condition of her former boss and friend,” Seok Beom pondered aloud. „But I don’t have her contact, do any of you?”
In these circumstances, it turned out that the men, who had once been so impressed by the demeanor of this extraordinary woman, had simply forgotten about her as soon as she was out of sight. Now, suddenly, any contact information would have been useful, but none of them had maintained the acquaintance, and it wasn’t possible to ask the boss. Once again, somber expressions returned to their faces, and a poignant, heavy silence fell around Hyung Kyu’s bed.
When Ji An returned to her apartment, profoundly disoriented, she was still at a loss about what to think regarding the absence of her ahjussi at their planned meeting. Both his silence to her messages and the dead signal of his phone, which was uncharacteristically turned off, began to unsettle her increasingly. It was so unlike him that the only logical explanation, which she had been subconsciously avoiding, seemed to be that something had happened—something of grave importance.
Thoughts of Dong Hun’s mother, his son, and his brothers crossed her mind.
„Perhaps one of them fell ill, or there was an accident…” she allowed herself to consider, though these thoughts also deeply saddened her. Yet, she didn’t have the courage to confront the gnawing suspicion deep in her subconscious—that something might have happened to Park Dong Hun himself.
However, she remembered that moment on Friday, when she suddenly felt a pang in her heart and an overwhelming sense of dread. It seemed that feeling had returned, and coupled with Dong Hun’s absence and the impossibility of contacting him, it was pushing her towards a state of panic.
Restless, she found no peace at home and was unable to engage in any activity. She wandered through her apartment like a sleepwalker, her mind tirelessly searching for what she should do next.
„Perhaps I should go to Jeong Hee’s restaurant?” she thought, though she knew her visit might seem odd.
After all, they had promised at Ji An’s grandmother’s funeral to spend Thanksgiving and New Year’s together. And now, she was contemplating dropping in unannounced.
„I’ll go! It doesn’t matter! Even if unnie is surprised! Though knowing her, she’s more likely to be pleased,” she declared aloud. „She’ll definitely know if something bad has happened to Park Dong Hun’s family.”
She left her house without eating, despite the lateness of the hour. Ahead of her was a long drive to Hoogye. She saw no other option. She had to find out what had happened, for she no longer harbored any doubts that something indeed had.
When Lee Ji An arrived at Jeong Hui’s restaurant, it was yet to open its doors to the clientele, but the entrance, as always, remained invitingly ajar. She stepped inside. Unnie was nowhere to be seen downstairs. Thus, she called out, announcing her arrival, and when no reply came, she ascended the stairs with a tentative step to the familiar room above. There, she knocked and waited. From behind the door, a soft sobbing could be heard. She knocked again and gently pushed the door open.
„Unnie, it’s me, Lee Ji An. Are you there?” Yet, even as she inquired, she knew the answer. Jeong Hui was huddled against the wall, tears streaming down her face, oblivious to the presence of her visitor.
„Unnie! What’s happened?” she whispered, approaching her weeping friend. „Why are you crying?”
It was only when she was gently touched that Jeong Hui realized she wasn’t alone. Looking up at Ji An, her eyes were visibly red and swollen from prolonged crying. She attempted a smile for her guest, but it twisted into a grimace that bore no resemblance to her usual expression.
„Oh, Ji An, you came?” she asked in a whisper, grasping her hand.
„I’m here, Unnie. What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Has someone hurt you?” For a moment, Ji An thought these tears were again for Jeong Hui’s old flame, but she was quickly corrected.
„Ji An…” Jeong Hui looked earnestly at her young friend, whom she’d long known to love Park Dong Hun with a pure and powerless affection. „My dear Ji An… How do I say this?” She tightened her grip on the hand she held.
At that moment, Lee Ji An realized something truly dreadful was afoot. The air was thick with too many coincidences. Her legs felt weak, yet she bravely pressed for answers.
„Unnie, please tell me quickly what’s happened. I can’t bear this tension any longer. I came here for this reason. I can’t reach Park Dong Hun. We had plans, but he didn’t show. He’s not reading messages, and his phone signals he’s out of range. What’s happening, tell me quick!” By the end, her voice was no longer soft and gentle, but filled with panic and volume.
„Sit beside me, dear, I’ll tell you everything. Sit down.” Jeong Hui patted the floor next to her, sobered by the thought of having to deliver such tragic news to this poor girl, knowing it would be a tremendous shock. She wished to convey it as gently as possible, but that was no simple task.
Ji An sat, or rather slumped to the floor against the wall, her body tense in anticipation of something terrible.
„Tell me,” she said, her voice unrecognizable as fear constricted her throat.
„Our Park Dong Hun has had an accident. He’s alive! Alive!” she added hastily, feeling Ji An stiffen at the news. „He underwent a serious operation, which was successful, but he’s in critical condition. It’s still uncertain what will happen next…” she paused as Ji An curled into a ball, seemingly unable to breathe from the pain.
„Ji An… he’s alive… and he will surely live… it will be alright… you’ll see,” she struggled to find words of comfort and strength, for the girl seemed utterly numb and absent. She couldn’t even cry out her pain.
Turning to her, forgetting her own sorrow and tears, she embraced her. Stroking her head, she reassured that all would be well. Yet, Ji An was unresponsive. As if her soul had fled her body, leaving it empty and lifeless. Jeong Hui was terrified. It dawned on her that Ji An was in profound shock and she needed to call for help. Her first, instinctive thought was to call… Dong Hun. Then his mother, then one of his brothers. But likely, they were all at the hospital beside poor Dong Hun’s bed. She realized there was no one she could call for assistance…
Jeong Hui composed herself as best as she could, lifting Ji An into a sitting position, bracing her against the wall, and, while holding her, reached for a pitcher of water she kept on a shelf. She poured a bit into a glass and handed it to the girl to sip. Throughout, she spoke to her in a gentle voice, trying to soothe her and bring her back to her senses.
Once Ji An was sitting steadily by herself, supported against the wall, Jeong Hui quickly descended to the bathroom to soak a small towel in cold water. Returning, she also brought a bag of ice and a bottle of soju with glasses, thinking they might yet be of use.
Lee Ji An still sat almost motionless, but the progress was such that she began to weep softly, a sign that her emotions were finally finding their outlet, which, of course, was a good sign.
„Drink some more, dear,” she offered the water again, placing the soju and two glasses on the floor before her, hoping the alcohol might help her friend release her pain, emotions, and perhaps words. This would bring at least a small relief, for in that moment, she was a bundle of suffering.
„Thank you,” Ji An whispered almost inaudibly. „Can you tell me what happened and how serious my boss’s condition is?” she added with a trembling voice.
„I’ll tell you everything I know, but how about we take a shot of soju first? Might loosen you up a bit, huh?” She poured into both glasses and handed one to Ji An.
Ji An lifted the alcohol to her lips and drank indifferently, as if merely following her friend’s commands. Jeong Hui took the glass from her hand and refilled it.
„Don’t hold back,” she added. „It will ease a bit—go on. I’ll drink too.”
After those two shots, Jeong Hui waited a few moments for the alcohol to take effect and then began to explain to a shocked Ji An what had happened and the procedures Dong Hun had to undergo. She herself had to wipe her eyes and nose from time to time as tears flowed again, although she desperately wanted to keep her composure for Ji An’s sake.
Ji An sat still against the wall, her gaze dull but attentively listening. Not single tears but two streams flowed down her cheeks, dripping onto her knees pulled up to her chin. Suddenly, her whole body began to tremble, and then a terrible sob burst from her chest.
Jeong Hui was terrified again, for this time Ji An had fallen into another extreme and was difficult to soothe. She decided to let her cry and at least partially release the immense burden of suffering. Ji An alternately sobbed:
„I’m sorry, I wanted to call earlier, I really did, I’m sorry! Don’t die! Stay with me! What will I do without you? I’m sorry!” – and so for a long while.
Jeong Hui passed her more tissues, stroking her head, her back, shedding many tears herself.
The news of Park Dong Hoon’s accident spread through Hoogye with the swiftness of lightning. Every acquaintance from the football club and school expressed a desire to visit him in the hospital, but Jeong Hui, around whom they usually congregated, advised sending only three delegates.
„Dong Hoon is in a medically induced coma, so you won’t be able to talk to him anyway,” she explained patiently to each new arrival. „Besides, visitation is limited since he’s in intensive care, where only immediate family is allowed,” she continued. „Buy some flowers and something nice for his mother and brothers, who are vigilantly keeping watch. Assure them that all of Hoogye stands with them in this sorrowful time. For now, that will suffice,” she concluded with a firm voice.
The group deliberated who should make the hospital visit. While everyone was eager, they eventually chose the first delegation to visit Dong Hoon the following day. Then, as was their custom, they drank and the room filled with noise.
Jeong Hui slipped away for a moment to her room upstairs. She wanted to check on Ji An, as she hadn’t allowed her to go home alone. They had agreed to go to the hospital together the next day, after stopping by Ji An’s place so she could freshen up and change. Jeong Hui had taken a few days off work over the phone, so she needn’t worry about that. She had prepared a bed for her friend, placed some light food and a drink on the nightstand, and checked on her periodically, just like now.
This time, she found Ji An nearly calmed. She was lying on her side, though not asleep.
„Do you need anything?” Jeong Hui inquired.
„No, thank you,” came the soft reply.
„Does the noise from downstairs bother you?”
„Mm,” Ji An negated.
„That’s good because, imagine this, the whole gang from Hoogye wanted to crash Dong Hoon’s place tomorrow—all at once,” Jeong Hui aimed to lighten the mood with a more casual conversation, „but I talked them out of it. They agreed to send just three of their number.”
„Oh…”
„I’ll find out when they’re going, and we can head there after, to avoid the crowd, alright?”
„Yes, unnie. Let’s do that…”
„I’ll head back downstairs then, they’ll be looking for me soon,” she gently closed the door and returned to her guests below.
Left alone, Ji An began to cry again. How much she would give just to hear his breath and the beat of his heart… She would be much calmer then. Instead, she feared a phone call might come at any moment with… no, she didn’t even want to think about it. And the tears flowed anew. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, all converging on the regret of wasted time when she could have been in contact with him, talking over the phone, exchanging texts, emailing. Yet, she had decided to respect Park Dong Hoon’s decision to maintain his marriage and family, unwilling to forcefully continue their acquaintance, despite the pain and longing it cost her.
The light in the private VIP room, rented for Dong Hoon by his family, was warm and dimmed. Beyond the windows, the nightlife of Seoul pulsated, its colorful lights reflecting off the patient’s life-support equipment. On the sofa, half-sitting, half-lying, Sang Hoon dozed lightly, snoring softly. Seated in a chair beside the bed was the mother of the Three Brothers, her hair having turned completely gray quite suddenly of late. She remained motionless by her son’s side, holding his hand, which she tenderly stroked from time to time.
„You’ll pull through, my boy,” she whispered, „All will be well, my child. Just hold on a little longer, okay? Okay?” she pleaded, gazing helplessly at the myriad of tubes, pipes, cables, and lights of the devices surrounding her son’s bed, which emitted various sounds from time to time, composing a specific, hospital symphony.
„Yoon Hee and Ji Seok will be here soon. They’re already at the airport. Gi Hoon will bring them straight to you, darling,” she tenderly stroked her son again.
At that moment, the duty nurse entered the room to check the patient’s current parameters. The mother stepped away from the bed to not disturb her and stood by the window, as if she wished to spot the approaching loved ones in the lights of the night-time Seoul. Sang Hoon shifted to the other side and continued to doze, but it was no wonder; first, as usual, he worked with his brother for eight hours, then came straight to the hospital to keep vigil by Dong Hoon until their mother arrived.
Suddenly, the nurse accidentally bumped into the leg of the drip stand, waking the eldest brother.
„What? What? I wasn’t sleeping…” he was disoriented for a moment. He straightened up and looked around the room.
„Haven’t they arrived yet?” he asked, fully regaining consciousness.
„Not yet,” confirmed the mother, „Go freshen up a bit in the bathroom before they get here,” she spoke to him in her normal tone, the one she usually used with her eldest and youngest sons.
Sang Hoon obediently marched to the bathroom that was equipped in the room. Meanwhile, the nurse finished checking the equipment’s readings, made notes, bowed, and left. Earlier, she had quietly informed the mother that everything looked normal.
The elderly lady took her place by her son’s bed again.
„See how brave you are,” she returned to her monologue with Dong Hoon, deeply believing (as only mothers can) that he could hear her.
Sang Hoon, meanwhile, emerged from the bathroom and inquired what the nurse had said. Reassured by his mother’s report, he approached his brother from the other side of the bed, looked at him with concern, then reached for his now cold coffee, and sat on the sofa with a deep sigh.
On one hand, Ji An yearned to take wing to the hospital, to remain there indefinitely by his side, but on the other, upon realizing the delicate task of explaining to Dong Hoon’s mother and son who she was and why she wished to vigilantly keep watch over the ailing with the same devotion as his closest kin, she found herself ensnared in a web of uncertainty, unsure of how to proceed. As the evening drew in and both women settled into their respective beds, Jeong Hui sensed an additional torment plaguing her friend beyond her concern for their boss.
„Ji An, would you like to talk about Dong Hoon and everything that’s happening now?” she asked tentatively, „Don’t bottle up so much worry… Tell me what’s weighing on you… I’ll try to help, or simply be here with you,” she encouraged gently, understanding the reserved and quiet nature of her young friend.
„Unnie,” Ji An responded unexpectedly to the proposition, „I wish to go to Mr. Park’s, not just for a visit, but to stay longer…” she looked shyly towards Jeong Hui, „I want to be there with him all the time… Is that appropriate? Is it even possible?” she inquired sincerely.
„Hmm,” Jeong Hui grunted with embarrassment, for she had not anticipated such a question, „Indeed, your prolonged presence there might seem inappropriate, especially in the eyes of Dong Hoon’s mother and his son. But others are probably aware of your close intimacy with him,” she paused momentarily, pondering deeply.
„That’s just it,” Ji An confirmed in that moment, „I can’t just suddenly propose to stay there on the same terms as his family…”
„You know, if I meet Gi Hoon in private, I’ll discuss this matter with him. I feel that boy has a good understanding… hmm… so to speak, of the situation and would likely be on your side. So, when we go there tomorrow, don’t rush with your proposal right away,” she looked at Ji An, „You need to be patient, and I’ll try to get you that entry, because I’m sure it would be very good for Dong Hoon.”
„Thank you, unnie,” she whispered.
„Don’t worry. Your unnie understands what’s happening and truly, I want to support you,” she didn’t say outright that she suspected her feelings towards Dong Hoon, which she discovered while he was still among them, „Arm yourself with patience, and I’ll take care of everything, okay?”
„Okay,” she heard a firm and brief reply.
Later, both submerged in their thoughts, awaited sleep. Into their small room above the restaurant, a chubby silver moon peered, its pale glow illuminating the faces of the two women. Both had their eyes closed, appearing to sleep, but under the touch of the moon’s rays, Ji An’s eyes fluttered open, gazing into it as if seeking consolation. She remembered her grandmother and the evening Dong Hoon caught her carting her grandmother in a shopping cart to gaze at the moon. She recalled the shock she felt upon returning from that escapade, to find that he had waited for them both, to help carry her grandmother home. She was so profoundly moved by what he had done and the subtle way he did it, that even now, a shiver of emotion coursed through her. She could still hear in her mind and heart that warm, brief sentence: „You’re good…”
Now, this wonderful man lay in the hospital, unconscious after a serious operation, and instead of sitting by his side, she had to seek a pretext just to go there… Tears streamed down her cheeks again. Such powerlessness was hard to bear. Ji An was a girl who always found a way out of situations, but this time, circumstances were such that there was nothing she could do, except to go there on a courteous visit with unnie and leave after a few minutes.
„How will I do this?” she thought, „How can I leave him? I can’t… I simply can’t…”
At last, the day arrived when Lee Ji An was to see her ahjussi, yet in her darkest nightmares, she had not anticipated the horror that awaited. Her life had been a tapestry of trials and tribulations, yet the thought of standing beside the bed of a battered, burned, and unconscious Park Dong Hoon had never crossed her mind. Tension gripped her so tightly that morning coffee was all she could stomach, despite Jeong Hui’s pleas.
„You must gather your strength, dear… This won’t be easy… Try to eat something…”
„I can’t, I’m sorry unnie, but really, nothing will go down,” she implored with pleading eyes to her older friend. „I’ll make it through. Don’t worry. I won’t faint. Calmly.”
„Well, it can’t be helped,” Jeong Hui conceded, resigning herself to eat the day’s first meal alone.
They reached the hospital without issue. Gi Hoon had precisely explained where his brother’s VIP room was located, so they quickly found themselves in front of the door marked with patient Park Dong Hoon’s name. Along the way, they picked up a beautiful bouquet and some tasty food for the family keeping vigil. Upon arrival, Ji An seemed to stiffen and pale once more.
„Can you do this?” Jeong Hui whispered, taking her by the arm in her usual manner.
„Ne…” Ji An responded, but her eyes betrayed the pain and terror she felt, and how desperately she wished to hide it from those she would soon meet inside.
„Let’s go in,” Jeong Hui gently knocked and opened the door upon hearing permission from within.
Inside, at that moment, were Dong Hoon’s mother and wife. After politely introducing Ji An to the elder lady and warmly greeting her with Jeong Hui, Yoon Hee led the newcomers to her husband’s bedside. Both stood shocked at the sight before them.
Dong Hoon’s face was completely obscured, wrapped in bandages, even over the eyes. Having recently experienced a similar moment, Yoon Hee understood what the two friends of her husband were feeling and began to calmly explain why he was so thoroughly bandaged.
„I know the sight is shocking,” she glanced sideways at the younger woman, „but Dong Hoon suffered deep burns from very close proximity. In such cases, bandages are used that cover the entire face, including the eyes. The primary purpose of such dressing is to protect the damaged skin from infections and to maintain proper moisture and conditions for wound healing. These dressings are designed to allow the skin to breathe while protecting it from external elements. Apparently, if burns include the eye area, medical care tries to balance the need for protection and wound healing with the need to preserve visual function. That’s why special dressings and ophthalmic ointments were used for Dong Hoon to prevent eye damage and support the healing process. Fortunately, his eyes were not completely damaged, and doctors believe he will see.”
„Aigoo!” Jeong Hui was the first to express her shock. „Dong Hoon, how could this happen to you, of all people?”
„Will…,” Ji An struggled to ask something, „Will ahjussi be able to speak? What about his face? Does he feel pain?” As soon as she spoke, a cascade of questions tumbled from her lips, directly from her clenched heart.
„The professor who operated on him says that Dong Hoon will be able to speak, yes, but…” Yoon Hee looked intently at the women.
„But what?” Jeong Hui asked anxiously.
„His face will not be the same… He is facing several transplants and a long rehabilitation.” She saw the impact of this information on them. „We need to focus on the fact that he survived and will stay with us, so let’s reconcile with this and be there to support him when he regains consciousness.”
As Lee Ji An had anticipated, she found it challenging to leave the room where her ahjussi lay. Jeong Hui and Yoon Hee were aware of the turmoil within the girl, but with Dong Hoon’s mother present, they refrained from causing unnecessary stir. The woman had already endured much, deserving respect without being subjected to further shocks. Thus, they gently and kindly took Ji An by the arms, conversing softly amongst themselves, hoping their actions didn’t appear odd to the elder. Outside, Jeong Hui embraced a numb Ji An again and seated her on the nearest chair.
„I know, my dear, I know how hard this is, but we had to leave…” Jeong Hui explained, „Dong Hoon’s mother cannot bear any more burdens, you understand, don’t you?”
„Ji An,” Yoon Hee knelt before the seated figure and wrapped her arms around her, „thank you for coming, truly.” Ji An lifted her tearful eyes towards her. Memories of when she helped her with police statements came flooding back. She still harbored resentment mixed with envy that Yoon Hee could be physically close to Dong Hoon, despite no lingering affection between them. Yet, she had neither the strength nor the desire to speak to the woman who had betrayed such a wonderful man. Meanwhile, Yoon Hee had grown accustomed to Ji An’s reticence and resentment, trying her best not to let it bother her. Though, in reality, she was the one truly envious of the young woman who had captured her husband’s heart. But since she did so without deceit, without claiming him for herself, without imposing her love, she humbly accepted her victory.
Now, seeing Ji An’s pure agony, she felt deep sympathy and genuinely wanted to help, knowing she could contribute significantly to bringing Dong Hoon back to life after the dreadful accident.
„I promise you,” she continued, „along with his brothers, we’ll arrange for you to visit as often as you’d like. You want that, right?” Ji An merely nodded slightly in affirmation.
„I know Dong Hoon needs your support, and his brothers understand too, but with mother, it’s a different story, so we need to plan carefully. Will you trust me again?” Another nod.
„Now, go home with unnie, and I’ll handle this. We’ll organize everything so you can be with Dong Hoon as much and as freely as possible. Just gather a bit more strength and wait.” Yoon Hee squeezed her and stood up, giving Jeong Hui a meaningful look.
„Can you stand up now, dear?” Jeong Hui squeezed her hand. Ji An responded uncertainly, rising from the chair. She wobbled, but the two women supported her tenderly.
„Will you be alright?” asked Yoon Hee.
„Don’t worry, I’ll take her downstairs and call a taxi. I’m taking her with me again, so don’t worry.”
„Good. Let me know once you’ve arrived,” requested Yoon Hee.
„Of course. Now, go back inside before mother comes out and it gets awkward,” Jeong Hui noted.
„Goodbye!” Yoon Hee bid farewell, „Thank you so much for coming. Truly!” she added, closing the door behind her.
By the time both had arrived at the restaurant and Jeong Hui’s apartment, darkness had enveloped the surroundings. Ji An, like a machine, alighted from the taxi and, in silence, with measured steps, entered the establishment. It was deserted, for the restaurant had officially closed for the afternoon. They took seats at one of the tables. Jeong Hui went to prepare some herbal tea, while Ji An, soul seemingly vacated, stared blankly ahead.
Visions of her ahjussi, his head swathed in bandages, surrounded by an assortment of tubes and wires, haunted her; the steady hum of the ventilator and the beeping of machines echoed in her ears. She felt as though her head might burst, and her heart shatter into a thousand pieces.
Jeong Hui returned with two cups of chamomile tea, setting one before her distraught friend and sitting beside her.
„Drink up, Ji An,” she encouraged, „it’ll do us good.”
„Why him?” came the whisper, „Why him?” Ji An’s voice grew louder with repetition, „Why? Why?” A wave of mixed emotions began to surge forth anew.
„Such is the way of the world, my dear. Accidents happen, and this time, it was our Dong Hoon.”
„We were supposed to meet after such a long time… I wanted to finally buy him a lavish meal… Whatever he wanted…” Ji An’s words were filled with regret. She felt guilty for not fulfilling that promise earlier, and it weighed heavily on her.
„You’ll still get to treat him to a fine dinner,” Jeong Hui said, albeit without conviction.
„If he’s been severely burned in the head, face, then how do you know, unnie, if he’ll be able to eat normal meals… Moreover, from what I understand, the worst danger hasn’t fully passed. No one knows if he will wake up or how his mind will function…” She took the cup in her hands, but they trembled so violently that she couldn’t hold it and had to put it down swiftly.
Jeong Hui rose and went to the kitchen to find a straw. Returning, she moved the cup closer to Ji An and inserted the straw.
At that moment, Gi Hoon entered the restaurant.
„I saw the closed sign, but the lights were on, which intrigued me,” he explained from the doorway. „Oh! Lee Ji An ssi, good evening!” He was quite surprised by the encounter and looked questioningly at nunna.
„Ji An had an appointment with Dong Hoon, but he didn’t show up or respond, so, worried, she came to me,” Jeong Hui explained. „We’ve just returned from the hospital and are struggling to come to terms with what we saw…” she summarized.
„I didn’t know you were in Seoul,” Gi Hoon said, sitting opposite Ji An, attempting to engage her in conversation.
However, she was too distressed and didn’t want to reveal in front of him the extent of her turmoil from what she had seen and learned. She grabbed the straw and began to sip the chamomile.
„Yes, the sight of Dong Hoon is quite striking, especially at first,” Gi Hoon continued, but with his eyes, he signaled to Jeong Hui, asking, „What’s happening with her?”
Jeong Hui stood up and subtly signaled for him to follow her.
„Oh! I forgot to take out the trash,” she said loudly. „Gi Hoon, could you help me?” She took a bag from the kitchen, and they both stepped outside.
„Do they think I’m stupid?” Ji An thought. She knew they would talk about her, but she hardly cared. In fact, she was relieved to finally be alone for a moment. She rested her head on the table and sank into deep thought.
Meanwhile, outside, a lively discussion ensued about what to do with her and how to make it possible for her to see Dong Hoon.
„Yoon Hee promised she’d handle it,” Jeong Hui said, „but I don’t know how you’ll explain this to your mom. Officially, she’s a complete stranger. She’s never even seen her, and… I doubt she’s heard of her…” she looked to Gi Hoon for confirmation.
„True. You’re right. Hyung never mentioned her at home… Hmm… But I’m sure he’s missed her all this time… And her being there could be a big support… Hmm…” he seemed to be talking to Jeong Hui but was actually thinking out loud.
„We have to come up with something, because this girl is in terrible shock and despair,” Jeon Hui concluded. „I knew he wasn’t indifferent to her, I’ve known for a long time, but I didn’t expect it to be such a strong feeling…” she looked at Gi Hoon. „Did you know about this?”
„Mmm…” he affirmed, pondering intensely. „It can be done,” suddenly, an idea struck him. „Yes, it can be done!”