CHAPTER 10
“The incision is healing well,” the doctor said after examining Noeul’s hand. “There’s some swelling and discomfort, but that’s expected. Keep your hand elevated to reduce inflammation.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Noeul replied mechanically.
The doctor studied him. His breakfast sat untouched on the tray despite the nurse’s attempts to feed him.
Clearing his throat, the doctor continued, “As part of your recovery, we’ll be monitoring not only your physical health, but your mental state as well, your mood, your thoughts. We want to provide comprehensive care.”
“Okay,” Noeul answered flatly.
“How are you feeling? Are you comfortable?”
Noeul didn’t respond. He turned toward the window as tears slid silently down his cheeks.
He had failed.
“I understand if you’re not ready to talk,” the doctor said gently. “I’m here when you are.”
Noeul’s thoughts drifted far from the hospital room. His hands throbbed, but the pain barely reached him.
How would he face his family? Had the hospital contacted them?
They hadn’t… at least not before he woke up. When he saw his father’s number on the screen yesterday, he’d assumed it was to scold him. But it wasn’t.
And above all—
Who was the man who had saved him? Why had he done it? How had he known?
“Good morning, Noeul.”
The male voice cut through his thoughts. Noeul looked up to see the cause of his unease standing beside the bed, setting down a bouquet and a bag of food.
“I brought flowers and breakfast. How are you feeling? Did you sleep well?”
Noeul studied the stranger. He had the look of a New Yorker, someone you might easily label a neighborhood mobster.
When Noeul had asked who he was, the man claimed he’d been visiting a friend nearby, heard his cries, and found the door ajar.
He said he’d stopped the bleeding and brought him to the hospital.
Noeul remembered little after losing consciousness. But he remembered one thing clearly.
He had locked the door.
When Chung-Hee reached the room, he heard Noeul speaking with Jake. Unnoticed, he lingered at the doorway, observing his brother’s friend.
Despite the weight loss and distant eyes, Noeul was still strikingly beautiful.
“Tell me who you really are,” Noeul snapped at the man beside him.
Jake smiled, unbothered, as he unwrapped the breakfast burrito. “Why do you doubt me? I told you. I heard you crying.”
“No.” Noeul’s voice hardened. “Tell me the truth. I’m not an idiot.”
“I am telling you the truth.” Jake moved closer to help him sit up.
“Don’t touch me.” Noeul flinched away. He stared at him. “I locked the bathroom door. So you expect me to believe you heard me through two closed doors?”
Jake shrugged. “What can I say? I did.”
“I never cried for help. Why would you enter a stranger’s apartment and risk legal action?”
“I’m a good person.”
Noeul stared at him in disbelief. “No. You’re insulting my intelligence. Tell me the truth.”
“I can tell you the truth,” a deep voice said from the doorway.
Noeul turned sharply toward the entrance, toward the man who had spoken to him in Korean.
Chung-Hee studied his stunned expression. “It seems you recognize me.”
Noeul tried to sit up, to reach the call button, but his hands wouldn’t cooperate.
“Damn it,” he whispered. “Please, leave,” he said in Korean, his voice breaking. “I can’t see you right now.”
Chung-Hee stepped inside. With a glance, he dismissed Jake, leaving them alone. His tone was almost playful.
“How inhospitable. I just arrived.”
Noeul bent forward, covering his face. Why was he here? Why now?
“I can’t… please. Go.”
Chung-Hee stepped closer and lifted Noeul’s chin, forcing him to look up. “Why can’t you face me?”
Noeul remained silent.
“Who am I?”
Noeul swallowed but said nothing.
“Say it.” His voice lowered. “Say my name.”
Tears filled Noeul’s eyes. The brother of his best friend stood before him.
His first love. After all these years, he was finally meeting the man who had stolen his heart.
Not in some beautiful moment he might once have imagined, but in a hospital room, his hands wrapped in bandages, after Haneul’s death.
“You look so much like Haneul, Mr. Chung-Hee Lee.”
Satisfaction flickered across Chung-Hee’s face. “So you recognized me.”
Noeul’s cheeks flushed. “Haneul used to show me your photos,” he said softly. “He talked about you all the time.”
Seconds stretched between them.
“So what’s the truth?” Noeul asked.
“The truth is that you’re depressed and you tried to end your life. Have you lost your mind?”
Chung-Hee grabbed Noeul’s hand and squeezed close to the wound.
A pained sound escaped him.
“Did you feel satisfied when the blade touched your skin?” He pressed harder.
“Stop…” Noeul gasped.
Chung-Hee released him.
“You cut deeply. Not deep enough to damage the nerves. You’d be dead now if Jake hadn’t found you.”
“Then why do you care?”
“I don’t,” Chung-Hee replied immediately.
Noeul kept his face blank despite the disappointment. Why would Haneul’s brother care about him when he had been one of those blamed for his death?
“But my brother did,” Chung-Hee continued.
Noeul looked at him.
“Are you really that desperate to meet him, and your own brother, in death?”
“Yes.” The answer came almost immediately. “Very much.”
Noeul lowered his gaze. “Please leave me alone. Mr. Lee, I’ve suffered enough. Please… go.”
“Soon, Noeul.” A faint smile touched Chung-Hee’s lips. “And you’ll come with me.”
Noeul looked up.
“No.” His voice steadied. “I won’t.”