CHAPTER 23
Chung-Hee returned a few minutes later, carrying two paper bags filled with food and fresh juice for Noeul.
The elevator doors slid open, and he walked quietly down the corridor toward the hospital room.
As he reached the doorway, he noticed the bed was empty.
His gaze shifted toward the small seating area outside the room.
Noeul stood by the window, his back turned, the phone wedged between his right ear and shoulder.
Chung-Hee was about to call out to him when Noeul’s trembling voice rooted him to the spot.
“Yes… good evening.” Noeul swallowed. “May I speak with Dr. Kim? It’s urgent… please.” Another pause. “My name is Jung Noeul.” His voice cracked. “She’ll understand.”
Chung-Hee couldn’t hear the doctor’s replies. Only Noeul’s. “No… I’ve tried.” A pause. “I know. I know that’s what we talked about.”
Noeul began pacing slowly across the small waiting area, one trembling hand twisting Gong’s ring around the chain at his neck.
“Doctor… this can’t keep happening. You don’t understand.
” His breathing quickened. “I’m losing my mind.
I can’t live like this anymore.” He stopped walking and closed his eyes.
“I know…” A tear slid down his cheek. “I feel so dirty. So guilty.” His voice broke.
“I should have stopped the sexual abuse. Now it’s too late. I can’t change anything anymore.”
Chung-Hee felt the blood drain from his face. Sexual abuse? His thoughts raced. No. Noeul couldn’t possibly mean… Haneul. His fingers tightened around the paper bags until they crumpled beneath his grip. Noeul had known what Haneul was living through and had done nothing.
The conclusion came too quickly. Some part of Chung-Hee knew he had heard only half a conversation, but doubt threatened the anger that had sustained him for years.
He seized the interpretation that allowed him to keep Noeul alive for Haneul while punishing him for the attachment he could no longer deny.
“I almost believed you…” Chung-Hee whispered. His jaw clenched, his breathing growing heavier. For a moment, all he could see was Haneul smiling. Then Haneul crying. Then Noeul laughing, painting, sleeping peacefully in the hospital bed. The images collided inside him.
How could the same man be capable of such tenderness and something so unforgivable? He wanted to storm inside. Demand answers. Make Noeul suffer. Make him feel every ounce of pain Haneul had carried.
Yet his feet refused to move. That was what terrified him most. Keeping Noeul alive felt like a betrayal of Haneul’s memory. Yet the thought of losing him was unbearable.
Without another glance, Chung-Hee stepped away from the doorway. “I’ll make sure you pay for what you did,” he whispered. “Slowly. You’ll feel what my brother felt before he died.” He closed his eyes. “Only then will you earn the peace you’ve been searching for.”
He turned and disappeared down the corridor without revealing his presence.