* * *
Jingyeom was debating whether to call Jinwoo when the hospital room door opened.
Jinwoo looked even more downcast than before, and Jingyeom hesitated, his body trembling as he fought the urge to approach but unable to move.
“…”
Jinwoo walked in, his expression so different from usual that Jingyeom felt as if his gaze would pierce right through him.
The unfamiliar look on Jinwoo’s face left him stunned.
“…Jinwoo.”
At Jingyeom’s cautious voice, Jinwoo turned his head away first.
Taking a small step forward, Jingyeom gathered his courage and lightly grasped Jinwoo’s sleeve.
“…I’m sorry for deciding on my own without talking to you.”
“…”
“I didn’t want to burden you anymore. You’ve already been through so much. Even if I can’t make up for everything you’ve endured.”
“Why should you have to make it up?”
“Huh?”
At Jinwoo’s harsh tone, Jingyeom pulled back his hand.
Jinwoo’s sleeve slipped from his grasp, bunching in his clenched fist.
“Make up for it? I never asked for that. I just… as long as you stay by my side, I’d be fine living like this forever…”
Jinwoo had just gotten off the phone with Soohyuk, afraid he’d let his emotions slip, so he clenched his mouth shut.
Jingyeom, seeing Jinwoo trying to hold back his anger, tugged on his sleeve to get his attention.
“That’s not possible, Jinwoo.”
“Hyung…”
“I don’t want to live like this. I don’t want this life.”
Jinwoo’s lips parted in shock, the words striking him like a blow.
It reminded him of the old Baek Jingyeom, the one who didn’t want to live miserably.
Even as he saw Jinwoo’s stricken expression, Jingyeom couldn’t stop.
“You’ve done your part. Now it’s my turn. Soohyuk hyung is helping us. I think this is an opportunity.”
“Gyeom-ah!”
“Throwing away this chance would be foolish. Without that debt, we could both live the way we want…”
Jingyeom’s eyes had grown misty, and Jinwoo’s eyebrows furrowed in response.
“Let’s live like that, please? Jinwoo…”
“…You promised you wouldn’t abandon me.”
Despite his expression, Jinwoo’s voice had turned colder, sending a chill through the air and causing Jingyeom’s pupils to quiver.
Jingyeom unconsciously let go of his sleeve.
He had heard that voice before, but only directed at Wonbeom or Soohyuk, never at himself.
“Are you going to leave me and go to Director Sun?”
“…Why are you saying this, Jinwoo?”
“I said I’d take care of it. I said I’d be responsible! All you have to do is stay by my side. I’d pay off the debt, and whatever you wanted to do, I’d support you. Was waiting for that… really so hard?”
“You seem a bit too worked up.”
Jinwoo, not wanting Jingyeom to see his distorted expression, covered his face with a hand.
But Jingyeom had already seen his furrowed brow and clenched jaw.
“…Sorry. I got too upset. …Ha.”
“Why do you keep thinking I’m going to abandon you? I just want us both to live a life where we can do what we want, without worry. Is that so wrong?”
“No, it’s not. I know you did it for me. It’s just… it hurt. That’s all.”
Jinwoo wanted to cling to Jingyeom desperately, to hold those slim arms and keep him close, spilling every word he wanted to say.
Ever since he confessed his feelings, this fierce possessiveness over Jingyeom had surged within him.
But he knew if he laid everything bare, Jingyeom might recoil in fear and leave.
Even now, he had to swallow his feelings, knowing any misstep could destroy their relationship.
With a small sigh, Jinwoo ran a hand down his face, giving a strained smile.
“Sorry for snapping, Gyeom-ah.”
Slowly, he raised his arms, and Jingyeom’s expression crumbled into distress.
As his lips quivered, Jinwoo gently pulled him into a hug, pressing the small head to his chest and soothing his back.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Jingyeom listened closely to Jinwoo’s steady, slightly faster heartbeat.
“Just don’t think you have to face it alone. Let’s handle it together.”
“…”
Jingyeom couldn’t bring himself to say he would do that.
He had taken action to set Jinwoo free, but repaying it together would defeat the purpose.
However, Jinwoo’s words, pleading not to be abandoned, echoed in his mind, refusing to fade away.
It wasn’t the first time Jinwoo had said such things; whenever Jingyeom tried to put even a little distance between them, Jinwoo noticed it like a sixth sense.
‘What should I do with you?’
Jinwoo’s feelings were far too deep to be left as mere good memories.
Jingyeom wondered if it might actually be better to coldly cut Jinwoo off, just like he had in the past, even if it meant Jinwoo would be hurt.
Perhaps, one day, Jinwoo would overcome the pain and find happiness with someone else.
Jingyeom closed his eyes, burdened with the worry of whether he could actually do it.
Since that day, Jingyeom had noticed subtle yet distinct changes.
First, Wonbeom’s visits and calls had become more frequent.
His visits to the hospital were brief, sometimes just to show his face, but he now came by at least every two days without fail.
‘Isn’t the President supposed to be busy? He’s visiting quite a lot.’
Jingyeom knew Wonbeom was coming to see him, but he still felt worried about the company.
Second, Jinwoo’s demeanor had become much calmer.
Though “calm” sounded positive, in truth, it seemed he was lost in deep thought, needing to be called two or three times before responding.
‘Did something happen between him and Soohyuk?’
While Jingyeom suspected he was the main reason, he still worried there might be another cause.
Third, Soohyuk’s calls and visits had decreased. Even though he still called or messaged three times a day—morning, noon, and night—it was noticeably less than before.
‘Is it because the President keeps leaving, and his subordinates have more work? No, usually chairmen don’t even go to the office that often.’
The only chairmen Jingyeom had seen were fictional characters in videos.
This pattern, noticeable even to the usually oblivious Jingyeom, had lasted for two weeks.
Now that he could walk decently without support devices, staying cooped up in the hospital felt more suffocating.
He had endured it before, convincing himself that he couldn’t go outside because walking was difficult.
But now that he could walk on his own, he couldn’t suppress the urge anymore.
As Jingyeom’s physical condition visibly improved, Jinwoo decided to return to work.
Jinwoo had just stepped out to drop off his suit at the cleaners.
Left alone in the hospital room, Jingyeom sprawled on the sofa, watching reruns of variety shows.
The audience’s laughter rang out, but his face remained blank and bored.
He fiddled with the keys of a mini piano placed under the table, pressing them one by one.
When the door slid open with a clatter, he lifted his head.
“Oh? Teacher!”
“Living the good life, huh? Don’t lounge around like that; it’s bad for you.”
Hoonil, who had come in, immediately criticized Jingyeom’s posture.
Jingyeom, confused by the visit since Hoonil had already come during the morning rounds, sat up.
“Jinwoo asked me to drop by when I had time, since he’s out.”
It was a request from the ever-worried Jinwoo, but Hoonil also had a reason for coming.
Sitting across from Jingyeom, he pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it over.
Naturally, Jingyeom’s eyes followed.
“Huh? This…”
Seeing the paper, Jingyeom’s head tilted slightly to the side. It was definitely familiar.
‘Looks familiar… where did I see it?’
Frowning deeply, Jingyeom stared at the paper until his eyes widened in realization.
‘A wish paper! …But the last one had four leaves, and this one has three.’
It was the same paper handed out in the past life for making a wish tree.
Back then, he had thought it was a dream, but seeing it now, everything matched perfectly—the size, color, and shape.
The only difference was that it had a three-leaf clover instead of a four-leaf one.
‘Why is this here…’
Trying to calm his racing heart, Jingyeom looked up and met Hoonil’s gaze.
“The pediatric department is making a wish tree. With the holiday coming up, there are a lot of kids who have to stay here.”
Hoonil clicked his tongue sympathetically.
“It’s usually just for the kids in pediatrics, but I thought of you and got one.”
“…I’m not a kid, though.”
“To me, you are. If you want to act like an adult in front of me, grow up first.”
Jingyeom scrunched his nose playfully and then laughed.
“Do I give it to you once I write my wish?”
“Yeah, just leave it here. I’ll take care of it. Oh, by the way, you can start preparing for your discharge soon.”
Jingyeom hurriedly covered his mouth with his hand to hide his wide grin.
The unexpected news soothed the shock from earlier.
“That good, huh?”
“Of course! Discharge, finally…!”
“Don’t get too excited. Don’t overdo it either. You know what’ll happen if there’s any problem during the final check-up, right?”
Jingyeom nodded vigorously, barely registering Hoonil’s concerns.
The word “discharge” was the only thing bouncing around in his head.
‘Finally!’
Having spent over two months going back and forth between the hospital room, the examination room, and the therapy room, the thought of leaving filled him with a giddy excitement that made him want to dance.
Watching Jingyeom stomp his feet in joy, Hoonil couldn’t help but smile.
* * *
👍
I feel bad for jinwoo