CHAPTER 24
In the days since his second surgery, neither of them had spoken about what had happened before Noeul collapsed.
Chung-Hee brought food, sat beside his bed, and behaved as though the violence had belonged to someone else.
Noeul allowed the silence to remain. He needed the help, and part of him wanted to believe this gentler version of Chung-Hee could last.
San had taken care of everything on Chung-Hee’s behalf. After a long discussion, Noeul’s wish to live alone had become reality. Chung-Hee agreed to rent him the studio apartment next to Rei and Han’s.
The arrangement came with conditions.
Noeul had to update Chung-Hee on his condition three or four times a day, answer every phone call whenever possible, and never ignore his messages.
It felt excessive, but he was willing to accept those terms for the solitude he desperately needed.
Since both his hands were still in poor condition, especially his dominant one, Chung-Hee had also hired a caretaker to help until he regained his independence.
When Noeul stepped into the studio, he stopped.
It wasn’t large, but it immediately felt warm.
The apartment was minimalist, modern, and functional, with an open-plan layout that combined the living room, kitchen, and sleeping area into one welcoming space.
What caught his attention most were the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city and the nearby park.
Even beneath the gray November sky, natural light flooded the room, making it feel surprisingly open.
Rei and Han had already moved his belongings inside. A few boxes still waited to be unpacked, but everything else was ready. He could already picture where his books would go, where he’d place his easel, where he’d sit with a cup of coffee after long hikes.
Noeul couldn’t stop a quiet smile from appearing.
“Do you like it?”
“I love it.” Noeul’s eyes drifted back to the windows. “Especially the view. The winter light will look beautiful from here.”
“You won’t be painting anytime soon,” Chung-Hee reminded him. “Your hands need as much rest as possible. Understood?”
Noeul smiled faintly. “I know, hyung. Don’t worry.”
He sat on the sofa, absentmindedly running his fingertips across the soft fabric. “When does the caretaker arrive?”
Without answering immediately, Chung-Hee sat beside him. His hand settled gently over Noeul’s, his fingers tracing slow, absent movements. The tenderness of the gesture didn’t reach his eyes.
For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.
Despite everything that had happened between them, Noeul still felt his heartbeat quicken whenever Chung-Hee was this close.
A soft knock broke the moment.
Chung-Hee stood and opened the door.
“Noeul, this is Mr. Choi. He’ll be helping you until you’ve recovered. He’s an experienced caregiver, and San spoke very highly of him.”
Noeul bowed politely. Mr. Choi returned the gesture with the same quiet respect.
Before anyone could say more, Chung-Hee checked his watch. “I have to get back to the company. There’s an important meeting.”
He turned to Mr. Choi. “This is my assistant’s number. If anything comes up, contact him immediately.”
Then he looked at Noeul. “And if you need me… call me.”
Noeul nodded.
Chung-Hee hesitated for a second. “I know the conditions are excessive. But after what happened, not knowing whether you’re safe is something I can’t tolerate yet.
We agreed you’ll keep me updated. If you don’t answer, I’ll assume something’s happened.
” The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
“And when I start worrying… I tend to overreact. So don’t put me in that position. ”
“I won’t.”
Only then did Chung-Hee leave.
The apartment fell quiet. Mr. Choi waited until the elevator doors closed before turning back to Noeul.
“Mr. Lee seems very concerned about you.” He smiled apologetically. “I hope you don’t mind me saying that.”
“No.” Noeul shook his head. “You didn’t say anything wrong. He can be… a little excessive.” A small, tired smile crossed his face. “But he treats me better than I deserve.”
Mr. Choi regarded him for a moment. “Better than you deserve?”
He folded his hands calmly in front of him. “I’ve worked with many patients over the years. The ones who say things like that usually don’t believe they deserve much kindness themselves.”
Noeul lowered his eyes. “Maybe. Or maybe you just don’t know me well enough.”
Mr. Choi smiled warmly. “Would you like something to eat or drink? I’m here to help. Since you’ve started physical therapy, I’ll also be assisting you with your exercises.”
Noeul glanced toward the large windows before looking back at him. “Would it be all right if we went for a walk instead? I’ve been in the hospital for so long… I just want to move again.”
“Of course, but only a short one,” Mr. Choi said. “We’ll walk slowly, and if you feel weak or dizzy, we’ll come straight back.” He reached for his coat before helping Noeul into his own. “Fresh air sounds like an excellent idea.”
The sky remained overcast, but neither of them minded. After days spent inside a hospital room, even the cool November air felt refreshing. They walked at an easy pace, remaining close to the apartment.
“Do you have a family, Mr. Choi?” Noeul asked, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, a knitted beanie pulled low over his ears.
Mr. Choi smiled. “A daughter.” His expression softened. “She lives in Hong Kong with her mother.”
Noeul noticed the brief sadness that crossed the man’s face.
“I don’t get to see her as often as I’d like,” Mr. Choi admitted. “But we speak regularly, and I’m grateful she’s healthy and happy.” He looked at Noeul. “And you, Noeul? Tell me about yourself.”
Noeul blinked. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
For a moment, he realized he no longer knew how to describe himself without mentioning everything that had gone wrong.
Mr. Choi chuckled softly. “There’s no right answer. Just tell me whatever comes to mind.”
Noeul thought for a few seconds. “I have a younger brother. He’s seventeen.” A small smile appeared. “I like hiking. And painting.”
He looked ahead as they continued walking. “They’re the only places where silence doesn’t hurt.”
He laughed quietly at himself. “What else? My favorite drink is coffee. Or maybe beer. Or a few cocktails I can think of.” He laughed again. “No, probably coffee. Oh, and I’ve never liked sweets.”
Mr. Choi smiled. “I think that’s a perfectly good introduction.”
The quiet rhythm of their walk was interrupted by the sharp buzz of a phone vibrating inside Noeul’s pocket.
He didn’t need to look at the screen. He already knew who it was.
With a quiet sigh, he answered. “Hey, hyung.”
“Noeul.” Chung-Hee’s voice sounded relaxed, but Noeul immediately recognized the tension hidden beneath it. “Where are you?”
A brief pause.
“Outside? I can hear traffic.”
“I went for a walk.” Noeul glanced at the time on his phone. Only an hour had passed since Chung-Hee had dropped him off. “I needed some fresh air.”
No answer.
His stomach tightened. He could almost picture Chung-Hee sitting behind his desk, fingers tapping against the wood while he replayed every word, searching for something that didn’t fit.
“Are you alone?” Chung-Hee asked. His voice was calm, but something beneath it felt dangerously close to snapping.
Noeul closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. “Just me and Mr. Choi. Who else would I be with?”
“Are you sure?”
The question came almost immediately, suspicion lingering beneath his lowered voice.
Noeul rubbed a hand across his face, trying to suppress the irritation rising inside him. “I’m sure. Do you want to speak to Mr. Choi?”
This time, Chung-Hee hesitated.
“No… that’s all right.” His voice softened. “After spending so many days in the hospital, it’s natural that you’d want to go outside. To walk. To feel your body move again.”
Another pause.
“I should get back to work. We’ll talk later this afternoon, all right? And…” His tone became quieter. “If I can’t reach you, I’ll worry. You know I can’t bear that anymore.”
There was no room to refuse.
“Okay,” Noeul replied quietly.
The call ended.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket and kept walking, but his thoughts weren’t on the park anymore, or the city, or even Mr. Choi walking beside him.
They remained fixed on Chung-Hee.
Did he genuinely worry about him… or simply need to know where he was?
And why, despite everything, did part of Noeul still want to reassure him?
Mr. Choi broke the silence.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying this…” He spoke carefully, choosing each word. “But from the way he talked to you, Mr. Lee seems to care about you. Perhaps a little more than most people would.”
Noeul let out a short, nervous laugh. “He likes me?”
He shook his head. “No. I don’t think so.”
His smile disappeared almost immediately. “Most of the time… it feels like he punishes me for existing.”
Mr. Choi looked at him thoughtfully. “Really? I’ve only met the two of you today, so I may be completely wrong. But that’s not what I saw.”
Noeul frowned. “What did you see?”
“A man who checked whether you’d eaten. Who arranged your apartment, hired someone to help you recover, and called less than an hour after leaving.” He glanced at Noeul. “Whether it’s healthy or not… I don’t know. But it certainly doesn’t look like indifference.”
Noeul lowered his gaze. “You’ve misunderstood our relationship, Mr. Choi. We’re just acquaintances. There isn’t… and there never will be… anything more.”
The words sounded convincing. Even to him. At least, he wanted them to.
His phone vibrated again. Noeul’s hand twitched toward his pocket before stopping halfway. He wanted one quiet afternoon. One walk. One conversation that didn’t revolve around guilt, fear, or responsibility. Just one.
The phone vibrated again. He closed his eyes briefly. Ignoring it wasn’t an option. With a tired sigh, he replied and slipped the phone back into his pocket, forcing a small smile.
“Come on, Mr. Choi.” He pointed across the street. “There’s an art gallery over there. Since I can’t paint yet, we might as well lose ourselves in someone else’s work.”
A little more warmth returned to his voice. “They’ve just opened a modern pop art exhibition I’ve been wanting to see.”
He smiled. “Dinner’s on me as thanks for keeping me company.”
“How can I refuse such a tempting invitation? Let’s go,” Mr. Choi said, laughing at Noeul’s excitement.
Once they entered the sleek, vibrant space, a wave of color washed over them. Noeul rushed inside, completely absorbed by the unique work and techniques the exhibition had to offer. Each painting left him in awe; every new technique astounded him.
Mr. Choi stayed nearby while Noeul lost himself in the art. After a while, he returned with a cup of coffee and a snack offered by the organizers.
“God, this is exceptional,” Noeul muttered as they stopped before the centerpiece of the exhibition. “My brother loves this kind of art,” he explained to Mr. Choi.
Mr. Choi teased him. “But it’s so… colorful.”
“That’s the whole point of it, Mr. Choi,” Noeul said, defending it. “Expression through vibrant colors.”
Mr. Choi shook his head. “I don’t understand you young people.” His face twisted with a hint of disapproval, earning a genuine laugh from Noeul.
Noeul’s stomach growled in protest, telling them it was time for lunch.
“What would you like to eat, Mr. Choi?”
“There’s a canteen nearby with Greek food. Would you like that?”
“Greek food? I’ve never—”
“You don’t know what you’re missing.” Mr. Choi smirked and led Noeul toward the exit. “Trust me, you’ll love it.”
The small canteen smelled of grilled meat, warm bread, and spices Noeul couldn’t name. Mr. Choi ordered for both of them, refusing to tell Noeul what he had chosen.
When the food arrived, he tore off a small piece of warm pita, added some grilled meat and sauce, then held it out to Noeul.
Noeul hesitated before leaning forward and taking a bite. His eyes widened.
“Oh.” He swallowed. “Okay. You were right.”
Mr. Choi smiled with quiet satisfaction. “Of course I was.”