Chapter 8
“Wait.”
“What?!”
He had only called out to her, yet she turned back with a glare sharp enough to intimidate. Taehwa found the situation absurd—being dragged into the parking lot by his wrist like this by Minju. He was the one who’d been hurt, the one who should be angry, so why was she the one losing her temper?
“Enough. Just go.”
Taehwa, who had been letting himself be pulled along half-heartedly, lightly shook off her grip. Her hand slipped away far too easily, lacking the strength to hold him back even a few steps—yet her eyes were still fiercely blazing.
“Get in while I’m asking nicely.”
Minju stubbornly grabbed his wrist again and roughly shoved him toward the passenger seat of a car that suited her size.
“Are you threatening me?”
“If I say get in, then just get in!”
Using both hands, Minju forcefully pushed his broad frame into the car. Wondering what she was up to, Taehwa gave in and slumped into the passenger seat as if he had no choice.
Bang. As the door shut, he watched Seo Minju circle the hood and climb into the driver’s seat. The way her cheeks twitched said everything.
She’s mad.
“Bastard.”
Slamming the driver’s door shut, Minju spat out the curse under her breath. Taehwa glanced sideways at her as she breathed heavily in irritation, then leaned his head back against the seat.
“Wow, that was a solid insult. I’m terrified.”
“Who do you think you are, putting your hands on people like that?!”
“Seriously… and you’re calling me the one who holds grudges?”
There was no way Taehwa didn’t know who her anger was directed at. Not him, who had thrown the punch without hesitation—but Jeyoungpyo, who had likely lost a few teeth from the beating.
“Let me see.”
After muttering a few more curses under her breath, Minju’s tone softened slightly. She took Taehwa’s hand without asking and lifted it under the car’s interior light.
As she carefully examined the cuts embedded with glass and the scraped knuckles, Taehwa found himself wondering—should he brush it off as nothing, or let her keep holding his hand a little longer?
“Good thing it’s not serious enough for the hospital, but you should still take anti-inflammatory meds. There are a few deep cuts.”
Her voice had calmed as she made her assessment. She gently wiped the torn skin with a wet tissue, her fingers skillfully checking for any remaining glass shards.
“It’s fine. It’s not even bleeding anymore.”
Just as he tried to pull his hand back, thinking it was enough, she tucked his arm firmly under her armpit as if determined not to let go this time.
“What do you mean it’s fine? Stay still.”
Glaring at him like she was scolding a reckless child, Minju pulled out a pouch from the console box. It looked like a small emergency kit filled with alcohol wipes, bandages, and ointment.
“You’re not kids anymore. Why are you even getting into fights?”
Her nagging carried little real force, but her hands remained gentle as she carefully cleaned the wounds with an alcohol swab.
Though her expression clearly showed her displeasure—her brows knitting and relaxing repeatedly—her touch was nothing but cautious. As if she was determined not to hurt him at all, her movements were soft, almost ticklish.
For someone who had been an athlete, a few scrapes on the back of his hand hardly counted as an injury. Still, Taehwa silently let Minju tend to him. After finishing meticulously, she tore open a strip bandage and asked:
“Why was Jeyoungpyo with you?”
It wasn’t accusatory so much as genuinely puzzled.
“After what he did to you, how can you keep someone like him around?”
The injury that had destroyed the brilliant future of a monster pitcher once expected to advance to the major leagues hadn’t even happened during a game.
And the one responsible for ruining that incredible shoulder was none other than Jeyoungpyo—the same man Taehwa had just beaten senseless.
Of course she’d find it strange.
“You’re here talking to me like this when you said you’d marry my brother. What’s the problem? He even got down on his knees in front of me.”
“……”
“He said he was sorry. What else was I supposed to do? You know my motto—good is rewarded, evil is punished.”
Apparently dissatisfied with the answer, Minju lowered her gaze and bit her lip.
Her long lashes trembled under the light. Thinking she might be about to cry, Taehwa tilted his head and leaned closer. Their eyes met.
They were close enough for their breaths to mingle, close enough to clearly see what filled her transparent eyes—resentment, guilt, dissatisfaction… a chaotic mix that somehow made her look hollow.
“I knew it was me.”
The certainty in her voice, utterly free of doubt, left him speechless. But she wasn’t wrong, so Taehwa couldn’t bring himself to deny it.
“……”
“That woman—you thought she was me. That’s why you hit him.”
Her stubborn murmur sounded, for some reason, like: You still haven’t forgotten me, have you?
…Is that it?
Taehwa blinked slowly, vaguely retracing the time Seo Minju had left behind.
Was it because of her that he woke from restless sleep in the middle of the night?
If seeing women who resembled her made curses roll around in his mouth, did that mean he hadn’t forgotten?
If the blooming of spring flowers irritated him…
If, in summer, he buried his face into the bed where they had spent days together in that cabin…
If, seeing her again like this in winter, all those nightmare-like memories resurfaced—did that mean she was right?
He didn’t know. So instead, he said something he didn’t mean.
“Do you even know what kind of bastard Jeyoungpyo is? If I saw a woman being treated like that, I would’ve done the same thing—even if it wasn’t you.”
Minju’s intensity faded almost immediately, and she nodded.
“True… you could never stand injustice, even before. I remember how you used to defend that guy who skipped training and got punished by the coach for it.”
Jeyoungpyo, who never got along with the coach, had struggled throughout his college years. Part of it was his impulsive nature, but Taehwa had always thought it was unfair that he was pushed without being given a chance to correct his mistakes.
Back then, Taehwa would chime in with a few words out of youthful stubbornness and end up receiving light punishment from the coach. And every time, Minju would apply ointment or ice his injuries.
That was how the emergency kit had come to permanently reside in her bag.
He later learned that Minju’s sensitivity toward pain came from her mother, who had passed away after battling cancer. Watching a loved one suffer to death had left her overly anxious about others getting hurt.
Back then, Taehwa hadn’t disliked the way her concern came pouring out without calculation whenever he exaggerated his pain. Sometimes, he had even foolishly wished his injuries would heal more slowly.
But things were different now.
The way she held his hand and cared for him like this—it all had a purpose now.
“You’re trying really hard.”
Taehwa threw the words out bluntly, his tone deliberately mischievous.
“Why not just win over Jung Hyungwoo like that? No need to come all the way to me.”
Only then did Minju seem to understand what he meant. She pressed her lips together tightly, her gaze fixed on him—filled unmistakably with hurt.
“You must think you’re something special. Do I have to explain again why I came to find you?”
He knew his sarcasm didn’t fit the situation after receiving such careful treatment. But Taehwa didn’t know how to neatly sort out and express his tangled feelings. All he knew was that he couldn’t remain indifferent to the fact that the woman worrying over his wounds desired his brother.
So he just said whatever came to mind.
“If you’re done, you should take care of this too.”
He ran his tongue over his blood-stained lower lip and pointed to it.
Her red lips, which used to press gently against him after patching him up, now parted slightly in confusion.
“……”
The zipper of the pouch had long since closed, and even the faint clattering sound had disappeared. As Minju sat there silently with her head lowered, Taehwa stared at the crown of her head before lifting her chin.
“…Let go.”
From her pale neck to her ears, a reddish hue had spread. Her lips were swollen from being bitten repeatedly, and her eyes looked slightly puffy—tears brimming at the edges.
“Let go, you bastard.”
Though she quickly wiped away the tears that fell, her gaze, fixed on Taehwa, trembled helplessly.
She was scared.
Scared that he had gotten involved in another violent fight.
Scared that something else might have broken.
Scared that Jung Taehwa’s life might fall apart all over again.
“You’re really… awful. Do you enjoy making people worry about you just to feel like you matter?”
“No way.”
“With cuts this deep, how is it ‘fine’? Why do you lie? How could it not hurt? This is that side, isn’t it? What, are your arms made of steel?”
Even as she snapped at him, her tear-filled eyes remained fixed on his right shoulder.
“Not anymore.”
When Taehwa casually rolled his shoulder, her tears vanished in an instant, her eyes narrowing into a sharp glare.
The hand that suddenly pressed down on the top of her head and released—he swore it wasn’t intentional. It was just muscle memory, a habit from when he used to calm her down whenever she got worked up.
The reflexes of someone who had once been an athlete—acting before thought.
“I should be the one crying, so why are you picking a fight? Everything that made me like this is entirely your fault.”
“Oh really? My apologies for betraying you, then.”
Sniffling, her nose flushed red, Minju shoved the pouch back into the console with a loud thud.
