Chapter 30
Smack!
We froze for a moment as we saw the large hand of Kyungchul strike Yoon-jae’s cheek squarely across the face.
Then we moved—instinctively, without even realizing it.
“What do you think you’re—!”
Smack!
Even as we rushed over, his hand came down a second time, hard.
Yoon-jae was too shocked to even make a sound. And then, before we could stop it, Kyungchul’s hand rose again.
“Ah—wait, please!”
At this rate, she was going to get slapped three times.
We darted forward and wedged ourselves between them without thinking.
The word composure didn’t even apply anymore to how fast we moved.
“Stop!”
Yoon-jae, standing firmly in the middle, forced Kyungchul’s hand to halt.
He looked down at us, his face utterly blank.
But she—the one who had just been struck—fought back fiercely.
“What on earth are you doing right now?”
We knew better than anyone that Go Kyungchul was a man with a nasty temper, sharp tongue, and little compassion.
But he wasn’t someone who hit people.
He would shout, threaten, and berate—but he had never once raised a hand against us.
Which was why this moment was even harder to believe.
Meeting our hard, angry gaze, Kyungchul slowly lowered his hand.
He then turned to Yoon-jae, who stood still, silently accepting the slap.
“So you’re standing in for my daughter, huh.”
What?
“It’s not enough, I know. And I don’t really have the right to do this anyway.”
His words—something we’d never imagined or even dared hope to hear—made our eyes tremble.
They weren’t complicated words, yet they felt foreign, almost incomprehensible.
Yoon-jae looked genuinely startled, her body wavering, her lips parting—but she managed to hold herself back.
Don’t.
If she spoke now, she might say something she’d regret.
Meanwhile, Kyungchul continued, his gaze still on Yoon-jae’s flushed cheek.
“To be honest, I’d want to do the same to you… but I won’t. Knowing her, she probably wouldn’t have liked that kind of thing.
Still, I figured I had to do something… so it wouldn’t feel quite as unfair.”
It became strangely hard to breathe hearing the sincerity in his voice so close.
And when Yoon-jae’s eyes began to tremble uncontrollably, Kyungchul gave a small, bitter laugh.
“Don’t try to understand. I’m not trying to make you, and I don’t expect you to.”
His voice carried a faint bitterness, almost like a confession.
Or maybe… sorrow.
Standing before a father who thought his daughter was dead, no emotion could truly describe how she felt.
We had never been a loving family. The affection that was supposed to exist between a parent and child simply didn’t exist for us.
And yet, she couldn’t stop the emotion rising up inside her.
“…I’m sorry.”
A small apology reached Kyungchul.
It could’ve been taken in many ways—but it wasn’t an expression of love.
“Stay… healthy.”
Just words from one human being to another.
Or maybe, from a child to a parent.
No matter how coldly we’d lived.
“…!”
For a brief second, moisture seemed to gather in Kyungchul’s eyes.
It was fleeting—maybe even an illusion—but before anyone could confirm it, he raised his hand again.
Whip!
At that instant, Yoon-jae, who had been silent all along, pulled us toward her—holding us protectively in her arms.
She turned her body, shielding us completely, as if worried Kyungchul’s hand might strike her again.
Smack!
But the raised hand didn’t come for her.
Kyungchul slapped himself across the face—much harder than he had hit Yoon-jae.
“Ah…”
It was a brutal, unflinching blow.
When he looked up again, the tears we thought we’d seen were gone, leaving behind only a dry, grim expression.
Then he turned away without another word.
As we watched him walk away, dazed, we suddenly became aware of the arms still wrapped around us.
The warmth in them was filled with the unspoken intent to protect.
What is this…?
It felt so strange. So unfamiliar.
“……”
Amid the swelling tide of emotions, we gently pulled away from Yoon-jae’s arms.
He let us go easily, and as we looked at him, still unsteady, we raised a hand.
“Wait.”
We didn’t wait for permission—our hand reached out, brushing his cheek.
His eyes widened slightly, but we ignored it, frowning as we felt the lingering heat on his skin.
“Why did you let him hit you?”
Twice, even.
When we demanded an answer, our brows furrowed with irritation.
Yoon-jae replied calmly.
“Because it was my share to take.”
“Go Woo-ri’s death isn’t your fault. You told me that yourself.”
“I know. But it feels like it should be.”
“Say something that makes sense. This is just—”
“Because I’m sorry.”
His quiet voice carried easily, and he swallowed the faint taste of blood spreading in his mouth.
The inside of his cheek was split a bit, but it didn’t matter. If anything, it made him feel more awake.
Slide.
When we lowered our hand from his cheek, our lips trembled.
“…Sorry to who?”
We hadn’t expected Ha Yoon-jae to say something like that.
Maybe he hadn’t either, because he answered absently.
“Who knows.”
His gaze drifted somewhere toward the crematorium they’d just left.
Following his uncertain eyes, we clenched the hand that still felt the warmth from his skin.
Her gaze dropped again, trembling.
“If this is over, we should just—”
Before he could finish turning away, he stopped.
Something had caught him—his sleeve.
“……”
Of course, it was us.
She still had her head bowed, clutching his sleeve, unmoving.
“Joo Ae-jung?”
He bent down slightly, confused by our frozen state.
But we didn’t answer. We just stared at the floor.
We couldn’t help it.
…This is so damn annoying.
Her father’s unfamiliar face and Yoon-jae’s apology had stirred something inside her.
Something raw, painful—like a valve jammed shut on the verge of bursting.
The discomfort built and built until she couldn’t stand it. She clenched and unclenched her hands, over and over.
But it was useless.
Drop.
A tear slipped past the barrier and fell to the ground.
It was infuriating. Maddening. And impossible to stop.
Once the dam broke, the tears came pouring out.
“Joo Ae-jung, what’s wrong? Hey—”
Yoon-jae, alarmed by her trembling shoulders, grabbed her by the arms.
She’d always been frail, pale, easily tired. Worried, he lifted her chin gently.
And faced her tear-streaked face—like a faucet suddenly turned on full blast.
“…You…”
Her tears fell from clear, luminous eyes—so transparent they made him forget to breathe.
In that moment, his whole body tensed, his heart pounding so hard it hurt.
Her tears fell endlessly.
“Ha Yoon-jae.”
At the sound of his name, something sharp pierced through his chest.
Still clutching his sleeve, she whispered hoarsely:
“Am I… alive right now?”
“What?”
“Just answer me. Am I alive?”
She needed to know if this moment—facing him—was real.
He hesitated for a moment, then exhaled softly and answered.
“You’re alive.”
Simple words. But for us, they were everything.
The one thing we desperately needed to hear.
And with that, she couldn’t hold back any longer.
“I know—it’s ridiculous, it makes no sense. It’s crazy. But still…”
Through the lump in her throat, she forced out the words:
“Please… just hug me.”
“…What?”
“I said, hug me.”
“……”
“You’re my husband.”
A plea disguised as a command.
An impossible wish. But she said it anyway.
“You’re on my side.”
She couldn’t explain all the sorrow, the pain, the grief.
Maybe it was her death. Maybe it was everything that came after.
All of it absurd—but if the person before her was warm, alive, real…
Before she could even finish the thought, Yoon-jae pulled her into a fierce embrace.
So tight it almost hurt to breathe.
Only then did she close her eyes, shutting them tight.
This warmth, this heat, this heartbeat—if all of it was real…
Then this embrace must be real too.
She clung to his shirt and sobbed—loudly, brokenly.
Maybe this was what she’d wanted all along.
Comfort. From someone real.
She had buried her feelings so deep that even she couldn’t reach them anymore.
Through all the fear, the confusion, the dizzying chaos, she’d pretended to be fine—pretended to be strong.
But not now. Not this time.
“……”
Her tears soaked into Yoon-jae’s chest.
The woman who always smiled—who always acted carefree—was crying.
He didn’t understand why she was crying.
He just knew that hearing her sobs, feeling them echo in his chest, made his heart ache painfully tight.
No one’s tears had ever moved him before.
But now, as he held her trembling body, Yoon-jae bit his lip hard.
…Damn it.
Her tears were soaking through him.
So much that they would never dry.
