Chapter 7
Junyoung pushed open the break room door and sank into the sofa, letting his exhausted body collapse into the cushions.
It was still the dim hours of dawn. Through the break room window, a faint bluish glow signaled the coming morning.
He had spent several nights straight in the emergency room, barely sleeping, and fatigue now hit him all at once.
A nagging, unpleasant headache pulsed intermittently—likely from excessive caffeine.
Junyoung massaged the back of his stiff neck and tilted his head upright before checking the messages on his phone, which he had not had time to read.
He quickly replied to a message from his father telling him to eat properly, then opened one from Sangwook:
“Checking in. The food here is so salty I feel like I’ve been drinking water all day. If I keep eating like this, I might not last long. As a doctor, write a medical opinion for my father—something that says I need to return home immediately.”
It had only been a week since Sangwook left for Tokyo, yet the message made it feel as though an entire year had passed.
Junyoung smiled faintly and leaned his head against the sofa, closing his eyes.
He expected to fall asleep quickly out of sheer exhaustion, but instead his awareness sharpened.
“You have a woman, don’t you? If you do, you should have said so! You’re just keeping the nurses at the hospital dangling while you slip away. Is that fair?”
Everyone who spoke to him seemed to repeat the same accusation like an echo.
After Jinyi had visited the hospital, rumors had spread throughout the entire place.
He had no desire to deny it, so he kept quiet. In fact, the dating suggestions that had once come his way so frequently stopped altogether, which in a strange way felt like a relief.
Now that he thought about it, he realized he hadn’t exchanged any messages with Jinyi since her last health checkup.
Since joining a major corporation, she seemed even busier than he was as a second-year resident at the university hospital.
She mentioned working overtime more than half the week, yet she adapted without complaint—just like Jinyi.
The thought of her steadfast, straightforward nature brought a subtle smile to Junyoung’s lips.
But he also knew the sides of her that surfaced when she was struggling.
The blank expression she wore when lost in thought, the way she pouted her lips without realizing it—those were moments only he seemed to notice.
He remembered her after the sedation from a previous endoscopy, when she struggled to wake from anesthesia.
That was the first time he had seen her completely defenseless.
The hum of the heater, the steady mechanical sounds from the examination waiting room, and the footsteps of staff moving about—he had worried the noise might wake her.
Long eyelashes. The faint sound of her quiet sobbing.
Gradually, all other noises faded, leaving only the occasional tremor of her breathing to fill the space.
Junyoung had reached out and gently rubbed her furrowed brow.
Then he took hold of her small hand lying loosely on the bed.
Once he held her hand, the trembling subsided and the crease between her brows softened.
He had always assumed she was fine—quiet, diligent, and consistently devoted to her work.
That was the version of Jinyi he knew.
Junyoung’s attentive gaze traced her small, rounded forehead, then her closed eyes, her straight nose, and finally her cheeks, missing nothing.
For a moment he met the nurse’s eyes at the counter, but he did not let go of the hand he was holding.
His long fingers moved slowly over her wrist.
He could feel the tiny pulse of blood beneath the skin—a subtle, living rhythm detectable only to his sensitive touch.
He appeared calm, but his heart stirred.
It reminded him of another time: the day he had seen Jinyi asleep on her desk in an empty classroom.
She had been absent from physical education, claiming she felt unwell, so he had used an excuse to check on her.
Sunlight poured through the window, bathing only her in its glow, as if she were the sole focus of it all.
He stepped inside quietly and closed the window to keep the cold air out, careful not to make a sound.
She slept so deeply that she didn’t stir at all. The quiet space left only him and Jinyi, and he found the feeling strangely comforting.
Her cheeks, illuminated by the sun streaming in through the window, looked smooth and translucent—like pearls.
Then, a sudden noise pulled him back from the distant past to the present.
When the break room door opened, Junyoung snapped out of his reverie and slipped his phone back into his pocket.
For a moment, the memory of Jinyi sleeping on the classroom desk lingered in his mind like an echo.
Arriving at the scheduled time, Junyoung was shown to his reserved room.
Inside, his father—who had arrived earlier—raised a hand in greeting.
“Long time no see, son.”
It felt as though it hadn’t been that long, yet a whole month had already passed since he last saw his father’s face.
“You got here early,” Junyoung said as he took a seat.
The senior doctor nodded and asked a staff member to bring the food.
“How have you been sleeping?”
While carefully wiping his hands with a wet tissue, the senior doctor studied Junyoung’s face.
The hospital—located in the heart of Gangnam—had been renovated and expanded after his grandfather passed away and his father assumed the role of director. Since then, it had grown even more successful.
The hospital belonged to a long line of physicians. The family was also well known as graduates of the same medical school at Korea University.
Junyoung currently worked at the university hospital, but after gaining sufficient experience and skill, he was expected to succeed his father—a heavy responsibility.
“I sleep deeply, even if it’s short, so I’m fine,” Junyoung replied.
