Episode 41
“Serin-ah, can we talk for a moment?”
It was a small, slow voice. So faint that she had to strain to hear it — and yet it caught Serin in her tracks. Standing askew, her body slowly turned toward her father.
Serin gave a faint smile and pulled a chair beside Seunghyup.
“Okay, Dad.”
The corners of Seunghyup’s eyes gently lifted. With effort, he raised his hand and stroked Serin’s hair.
“My little girl… You’ve grown so much. Feels like just yesterday you were small enough to hold in one arm.”
“When did I grow up? It’s been twenty-seven years, Dad. Maybe you’ve lost track of time.”
Serin’s playful grumble made Seunghyup let out a deep, hearty laugh.
“You’re right. Twenty-seven years… It’s been quite a while — not just yesterday, huh?”
“Yeah, definitely.”
“Still, to me, whenever I close my eyes, I can see it all so vividly. The day you were born. When you first toddled around. When you first called me ‘Dad.’ It all feels like yesterday.”
“You’re lying. How can you remember it all like that?”
“You’ll understand once you have your own child. That’s how parents are.”
From there, Seunghyup began to talk about Serin’s childhood — slowly, steadily, without pause. He recounted everything, from when she cried on her first day of kindergarten because she didn’t want to leave her mom, to the time she scratched a neighbor kid’s face and they had to go apologize, to when she started excelling in dance and won awards — all the moments Serin remembered, and some she didn’t.
Though slow, the stories never stopped. Serin’s face flushed with embarrassment at some parts, and she burst into laughter at others. When her father spoke about her late mother with quiet fondness, her eyes welled up briefly — but just for a moment.
Serin laughed with him, clapped at his memories, and chatted with her father for a long, long time.
It was a joyful time — but she couldn’t overcome the creeping drowsiness. Having been up since early morning, Serin’s eyelids grew heavier.
Seunghyup smiled and nodded toward the makeshift bed at the far end of the room.
“Go lie down for a bit. Get some rest.”
Still holding her father’s hand, Serin pouted playfully.
“No. I like talking to you, Dad.”
“You little rascal. Such a stubborn girl, just like when you were small.”
Serin rubbed her sleepy eyes and giggled, “Hehe.”
Her father’s thick hand remained warm — and that warmth gently loosened the tension in her heart.
That relaxing comfort slowly gave way to drowsiness, and her eyelids drooped. She tried to fight it, nodding off again and again. Watching her struggle to stay awake, Seunghyup rested his other hand on her shoulder.
“Go ahead and sleep.”
“I shouldn’t…”
Just before she completely dozed off, she faintly heard her father mumble like a whisper floating from far away:
“I love you… my daughter.”
Lying down beside her father’s bed and resting her cheek on her arm, Serin’s lips curled into a soft smile.
“Mmm. Me too.”
Me too, Dad. I love you.
She wasn’t sure if she said those words out loud or not. After that, Serin drifted into an endlessly deep sleep.
It was the deepest sleep she had had in a long time. She thought she might have dreamed something, but she couldn’t remember the content — just the feeling. It had been warm, soft, and happy.
Morning sunlight filtered through the window, tickling Serin’s eyelashes and cheek. She stirred, squinting against the light until she finally woke up.
As she lifted her head, she saw her father still lying in bed. Maybe he had also dozed off, tired from their late-night talk.
Time to call the doctor — he had regained consciousness after all. And then call Auntie too. She’d be shocked.
Just as Serin was about to get up, her father’s hand — which she’d been holding — suddenly dropped onto the bed with a soft thud. It felt… off. Like dropping a piece of dry wood.
“Dad?”
Serin gently shook him.
But her father’s eyes didn’t open.
“Dad, wake up.”
His face was quiet, like he was asleep. Panic spread across Serin’s face as she shook him harder.
“Dad! Stop messing around. That’s not funny, okay?”
She said it with a forced smile, pretending it was a joke. But Seunghyup remained still. That couldn’t be. His hand had been warm just a moment ago.
“Dad…”
As Serin shook him one last time, a long, flat alarm sounded from the heart monitor. At once, nurses and doctors rushed into the room.
Serin tried desperately to hold onto her father’s hand, but it wasn’t long before they gently pulled her away.
“Code blue! Code blue! Beginning CPR!”
A doctor climbed onto the bed and began chest compressions. A nurse made a quick emergency call while nearby patients and staff gathered in concern.
Amid the growing crowd, Serin stared down at her hands.
At the warmth that had vanished like a mirage.
When she reached out again, her father’s hand was cold. It was as if the warmth had never been his — but hers all along. That thought was so hollow, so lonely, that Serin stood frozen, unable to move.
—
It was still early. No mourners had arrived yet. In the dim funeral hall, Serin sat in a gray mourning outfit, her face pale and blank. She had no sense of how time had passed since morning.
They had tried CPR, then used a defibrillator to shock his heart.
His body jolted violently — but her father never opened his eyes.
She saw the doctors shaking their heads. She knew what that meant. So she begged, clung to them, pleaded with everything she had — “Save him, don’t give up!”
Someone said it was time to stop. Another declared the time of death.
And that was it. Her father’s long life had ended.
It all felt unreal.
Just hours ago, he had been talking and laughing with her nonstop. How could something like this happen in an instant? The moment their hands parted — life and death split between them.
If only she hadn’t let go of his hand…
Serin stared blankly at her own palm. She could still feel the warmth that had slipped away. She rubbed her fingertips over and over, trying to hold onto that sensation.
A gentle voice broke her daze.
“Serin.”
“Eun Serin.”
The voice, distant at first, came closer and closer. She suddenly looked up — a familiar silhouette appeared in her blurred vision.
“Oppa…”
The first person to come before any relatives or family was none other than Jung Hyun.
“Oppa… how did you…?”
“I came as soon as I heard. Are you okay?”
At his words, Serin’s dried eyes filled with tears again.
No — she was not okay. She had just held back because there was no one to cry to.
“Oppa… What do I do…”
Finally, Serin burst into sobs. Jung Hyun gently patted her back as she wept in his arms.
—
Meanwhile…
“Eun Serin’s father passed away this morning.”
Hearing Secretary Song’s report, Taeyoon’s gaze briefly clouded over.
“Is that so…”
“Yes, we just received the official notice from Songhwa Hospital where he was admitted.”
Taeyoon, who had been reviewing an investor relations (IR) document, paused completely.
Even last night, he hadn’t looked well — and now…
“What would you like to do, sir?”
At the cautious question, Taeyoon closed the file.
“…Let’s go.”
Secretary Song nodded and took a suit jacket from the hanger, handing it to him.
—
They drove for a while before arriving at the funeral hall, which was already packed. It looked like every employee from Dongmyung Food had come.
Many wept like they had lost their own family, mourning a warm and generous CEO.
Pushing through the crowd, Taeyoon spotted Serin — sitting lifelessly next to the mourning table.
And beside her, Jung Hyun.
“…Tch. What the hell is he doing here?”
Seeing him, Taeyoon muttered a curse under his breath.
