Chapter 38
Step.
As soon as he stepped into the departure hall and turned the corner, Yoon-jae suddenly stopped walking.
Then, amid the stream of people brushing past him, he instinctively turned to look behind.
There was a strange, unshakable feeling inside him—something off, something wrong.
[Have a safe trip.]
That simple, ordinary phrase somehow grazed the blunt edges of Yoon-jae’s emotions.
In his life that had never been ordinary, that small touch of everyday normalcy was enough to quietly melt something within him—so much that it made him hesitate, just slightly, before moving on.
“……”
There was something he hadn’t said.
Words he had never spoken before—yet today, they lingered stubbornly at his lips, refusing to disappear.
But he was already past the entrance, already inside.
He exhaled, dropped his gaze, and took another step forward—just as a voice cried out nearby:
“Someone collapsed over here!”
A cold chill ran down his spine.
The sudden commotion filled his ears—people stopping, murmuring, crowding together.
“Did she faint?”
“Looks like it. What happened?”
“She just suddenly fell.”
Their words reached him before he saw it himself.
“It’s a woman.”
And instantly, Yoon-jae’s sharp intuition flared like a warning light.
He turned and ran toward the entrance—back the way he came.
Through the crowd gathered near the spot where he had stood just moments ago, he caught sight of a familiar piece of clothing.
And between the feet of strangers—an all too familiar pale hand lay motionless on the floor.
Thud.
His heart plummeted to the ground.
“Call for medical staff—wait, sir! You can’t go over there!”
The airport employee’s shout never reached him.
“Joo Ae-jung!”
All his focus, all his being, was fixed on her.
Medical staff arrived soon after and checked the fallen woman quickly.
Fortunately, someone nearby had caught her as she fell, so there were no external injuries, and her breathing was stable.
There was no sign of trauma—no reason for immediate treatment.
Still, since she hadn’t woken up, they decided to move her to the airport’s medical room for observation.
And by her bedside sat Yoon-jae.
“……”
He didn’t take his eyes off her for even a moment.
He had already missed his flight, his schedule in ruins—but that didn’t matter. Even the blink of an eye felt like too much time to look away.
Restlessness. Anxiety.
His hand, filled with that unfamiliar unease, rested gently on the bed as he waited for her to open her eyes.
Her face was white, drained of color. Her eyelids—those that once startled him with their sharp gaze—remained still, unmoving. Her fragile body looked as though a single touch might shatter it.
Why did she suddenly collapse?
She’d seemed fine until the very end—smiling, lively, her complexion good.
It had happened without warning, completely out of the blue.
Only one explanation made sense.
Maybe she hadn’t truly recovered.
The moment she’d been shaken the most was when they’d gone to Go Woo-ri’s charnel house.
She had cried then—tears that Joo-ho said were a kind of release. He’d believed it was over after that.
But maybe it wasn’t.
Then why now?
His expression hardened.
Even after hearing the doctors say she was fine, that unsettling feeling wouldn’t leave him.
He exhaled quietly and glanced at the ring on her finger.
He’d never measured her size, just ordered Manager Hong to buy one—so from the start, it hadn’t fit.
When he’d slipped it onto her finger, it had been too loose; she’d looked flustered, her expression soft and shy. But now—it fit perfectly, as if it had always belonged there.
“……”
A silent mark that told the world she was his.
Without realizing it, his hand reached out toward hers—drawn as if by instinct.
And the moment his fingertips brushed the ring—
Twitch.
Her fingers moved.
Just once, like a tiny shiver—then again, more distinctly.
Yoon-jae quickly straightened up.
“Joo Ae-jung.”
As he called her name, her heavy eyelids began to lift.
After being closed for so long, her dark irises trembled faintly, blinking weakly in the light.
“Are you awake?”
She didn’t answer. Her head turned slightly toward him.
“……”
Her gaze was quiet, still—her dark eyes clouded, dull from unconsciousness, carrying a deep, unfathomable calm.
And against her pale, bloodless skin, that stillness seemed chilling.
She’s… different.
The same face, yet not the same.
That strange dissonance—he had felt it once before.
Yoon-jae took a step closer, then abruptly stopped, a strange distance settling between them.
She slowly sat up, her eyes locked on his.
“……”
That wordless stare gave away nothing.
She didn’t seem ill. She didn’t seem weak. She just… looked at him.
Then—she reached out her hand.
Ssk—
Her trembling fingertips moved toward his cheek.
Slowly, so slowly, her hand neared his face.
And then—
Whip.
His head turned away instinctively, dodging her touch.
His body reacted before his mind did, startling even him.
She froze. Her hand, left hanging in the air, dropped limply.
Thud.
Her fingers brushed the blanket—and her black eyes closed again.
Slide.
Her body tilted. Yoon-jae quickly caught her in his arms.
“Joo—!”
But before he could say her name, the body in his arms began to tremble.
“Joo Ae-jung?”
She was shaking hard enough to see it, yet she gripped his arms tightly, strong enough to pull herself up.
Her eyes quivered, filled with confusion and terror.
“……”
It didn’t seem like she was fully conscious—but the strange sense of wrongness that had filled him moments ago was gone.
And just as relief started to settle in—
Her grip on his arm tightened.
Clench.
Like someone drowning, clinging to a lifeline.
Her breathing hitched, trembling, and her dry lips parted.
“I’m scared. I can’t breathe.”
“……”
“It’s suffocating… please.”
Her pupils shook violently. Her voice trembled with desperate fear.
“Please… help me.”
Those words—raw and pleading—hit him like a direct current.
The glistening eyes, the trembling lips—her sheer need pierced deep into him.
It was something he couldn’t refuse.
He clasped her hands tightly and whispered:
“Okay.”
Then, holding the hands he’d once pulled away from—he leaned forward.
And this time, their lips met.
No hesitation. No calculation.
It wasn’t a choice—it was instinct.
“Ah…”
Her eyelids fluttered closed as if his breath were giving her life.
Their lips parted, met again, gentle but deep—like breathing air into her.
“Mmh… ah…”
Soft sounds escaped her, faint but enough to awaken something primal in him.
But this wasn’t the time for desire.
With every breath, every heartbeat, the trembling in her body and spirit began to ease.
The invisible pressure that had been suffocating her vanished. The whispers that had filled her mind fell silent.
Before his eyes, her breathing steadied.
This… is real.
Not the nightmare of the past—but the warmth of the present.
Peace returned to her body, and finally, exhausted, she slumped gently against him.
Yoon-jae wrapped his arms around her completely and whispered softly:
“No one’s going to hurt you.”
“……”
“No one.”
His voice was quiet, but filled with a sincerity she could feel.
He held her tighter.
“Because I won’t let them.”
His arms—her first true shelter, her first warmth.
And as the fear melted away like snow, she finally found herself again.
“Mm.”
She nodded faintly like a child.
Her breathing grew calm, peaceful. Her face softened—serene, almost as if asleep.
The trace of his kiss still lingered, warmth returned to her cheeks.
Click.
Just then, the door opened, and the medical team entered—eyes widening at the sight of her in his arms.
“What happened? Was it a seizure?”
Startled, they hurried toward him, but Yoon-jae only shook his head.
“She’s fine now.”
“Pardon?”
They looked at him, confused.
He murmured quietly—half to them, half to himself:
“She’s fine.”
Because if anyone wasn’t fine anymore—
it was him.
