Yul
February, 2026
I stand back and admire the freshly painted pale blue walls of the nursery. The crisp color reminds me of a cloudless spring sky. Yena comes up beside me, rubbing her swollen belly with one hand.
"What do you think?" she asks, her eyes shining with excitement.
"It's perfect," I murmur, draping an arm around her shoulders.
Inha pokes his head in from the hallway. "Need any help moving the furniture in?"
"We've got it from here," I assure him. "Go relax, you've done enough heavy lifting today."
He shoots me a playful glare before disappearing back down the hall. Yena and I worked as a team to assemble the crib and changing table earlier, but Inha insisted on carrying the heavy dresser in by himself. I don't mind letting him feel useful.
With a contented sigh, Yena leans her head against my shoulder. "One more for the hoard, eh?"
I kiss the top of her head, inhaling the familiar floral scent of her shampoo. "Yeah, but this time I get my own little avatar," I grin, glancing down at her belly.
She tilts her face up towards mine, eyes sparkling. "Maybe someday you and Inha will have enough to have a whole army on both sides."
I snort, "We should make it into a family event. The tournament of the Kangs and Joos."
Yena giggles, "Seulgi alone would probably defeat half the family."
Laughter bubbles up my throat at that. Seulgi is already one of the most headstrong among the children. The stubbornest child to get to sleep. I assume she gets that from Yena since it's not a specific personality trait of mine, for sure. Or so Yena and Inha say. I wasn't here for the newborn days of all the children, so I can only go off my experience with Seulgi, and she is a tiny terror.
My throat tightens with emotion. It reminds me of that conversation over a year ago - Yena approaching me nervously about expanding our family, stressing that she wanted to have the experience of pregnancy and childbirth again with her second husband.
Seulgi wasn't an accident, of course. Inha had the birth control implant put back in just after Yunho was born and we had mine removed just after Yena and I were officially married so there's no doubt about paternity with either Seulgi or this new baby. Though, even if there was, it would be obvious who Seulgi's father is. Even as a newborn, the very angular shape of her eyes and her longer nose are unmistakably mine. I fear for her sake that she will only resemble me more as she gets older, less like her stunning mother.
The second child, that was the one I was hesitant about promising. At the time, I'd had reservations about blending the family dynamics even further. But Yena can be incredibly persuasive, and the idea of raising another child together, my flesh and blood, gradually felt more right than wrong.
"I can't believe you'd want to do this again, much less for me," I murmur, cupping her cheek. In this moment, painted in the soft blue light from the nursery, her beauty renders me breathless. Not just her physical beauty, though her pregnancy glow is ethereal. But her spirit, her warmth, the way she loves me so openly and without reservation - that's what leaves me feeling undeserving of such grace.
Yena leans up on her tiptoes to kiss me, and I lose myself in the familiar taste and feel of her lips. This will be baby number six to Yena, but he will still be born into an abundance of love.
I jump slightly as my phone vibrates in my pocket. Yena looks up as I pull it out and glance at the screen. I shoot her a quick look and jerk my head to the door.
"I should take this. I'll be right back," I tell her.
I see the crease in her brow and know she must be wondering, but I don't have time to explain. I step out into the hall and immediately change directions when I see Inha standing in the kitchen. I don't want him to overhear this either. I go to the back of the apartment instead, making for the back patio.
I step out onto the balcony, sliding the glass door closed behind me to muffle the noise from inside. My phone buzzes in my hand - it's my father calling.
"Abeoji," I answer stiffly, leaning against the railing. "Everything okay?"
It's usually not if he's calling me. My father rarely ever bothers to reach out just to talk. My mother even less so.
There's a pregnant pause on the other end of the line before he responds, his voice strained. "Ah, Yul-ah..."
I breath out through my nose. Closing my eyes as I prepare myself for whatever's coming. Whenever he uses an affectionate moniker with me I know it means something bad.
"I may have uh…gotten myself into a bit of a situation."
My brow furrows at his tone. "What's going on? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine," he assures quickly. "It's just...you know how business has been slow at the store lately. Well, I may have taken out a loan to cover some expenses."
A knot of dread forms in the pit of my stomach. "From who? A bank?"
Another pause. "Not exactly..."
I pinch the bridge of my nose, already knowing where this is headed. "Abeoji, please don't tell me you borrowed from a loan shark."
"I didn't have many options!" he fires back defensively. "They said they could get me the money quickly, no credit checks or anything. But now they're calling it due and I don't have the full amount to pay it back."
I can already feel the headache forming behind my temples. This is exactly why I took this call away from Yena and Inha. I knew, I just knew it could never be anything good with my parents.
Gripping the railing tightly, I grit my teeth to keep my voice level. "How much are we talking about here?"
"Sixty-five million won," he mumbles, so soft I can barely make it out.
My eyes bulge. "Sixty million? Are you insane? How did you possibly think you could pay that back!"
"I don't know, I don't know!" he cries, sounding on the verge of tears now. "They said I had three months to pay it off, but it's only been two and they're demanding the full amount immediately with interest!"
Panic claws at my chest. Sixty million won is no small sum, not for my father's income. Hell, even for mine it would require dipping into my savings substantially.
I'm fuming now. "I'm sorry, but I can't help you. I don't have that kind of money just lying around. I can't just snap my fingers and produce 65 million won."
"But what about Yena? Her other husband, what's his name…They have money, don't they? Yena's other husband is loaded, right?" he suggests, a hint of desperation in his voice. "Surely, you could ask them? That other man is some rich developer's kid, isn't he?"
My grip on the phone tightens, my anger threatening to boil over. "I can't believe you're suggesting I go to my wife and her other husband for money to pay off your debts."
Shame builds in my chest at just the idea. My family has done this since the very beginning, since the day I was matched to Yena and my parents found out that not only did Yena have money, but that her other husband was a chaebol with a big name. They practically begged Yena for money from the moment they first met her. It's part of the reason why I keep them at arm's length now. Dodging my mother's calls and coming up with reasons not to invite them to family events.
"Don't you have any pride? Did you think about how that is going to make me look to them? To Inha? To ask him to bail the other husband's father out like I'm some kind of beggar?"
"Yul-ah, please," he pleads, but I've had enough.
"No, that's enough. I have my own shit to deal with. I'm about to have another baby with Yena. I have to look after my family now. I can't help you this time. You should have thought this through before borrowing from a shady broker. I can't bail you out of this mess." I'm about to hang up when he blurts out something that stops me cold.
"You have to help me, Yul-ah. You don't understand...I took out the loan in your name."
My heart skips a beat, my blood running cold. "What do you mean, you took out the loan in my name?"
"I used your name and information to get the loan," he admits, his voice trembling. "I didn't think they'd actually come after you, but now they're threatening to hurt you if I don't pay up."
My mind races, trying to process this new information. My name. He put my name on the damned loan, dragging me into his mess. Again.
I grip the phone so tightly my knuckles turn white, rage boiling in my veins. "Are you kidding me right now?" I hiss through clenched teeth.
My father lets out a shaky breath on the other end. "Yul-ah, I'm sorry, I really am, but I thought if worst came to worst—"
"You thought you could just use my name and information without telling me?" I snap, cutting him off. "Do you have any idea what kind of trouble that could get me into?"
"I know, I know, but I figured it would be okay since you have your wife and the other one to back you up," he reasons weakly. "If you ended up needing help paying it back, I'm sure her other husband—"
White hot fury blazes through me at his implication. "Don't you dare," I seethe, struggling to keep my voice down so I don't draw Yena and Inha out here. "Don't you dare try to drag them into this mess you've created."
"But son, the Kang's are dripping in money, that man has more than enough to—"
"I don't give a shit how much money they have!" I explode, unable to contain my anger any longer. "That doesn't give you the right to put me in a position where I'd have to go begging to them like some deadbeat! When are you going to get it through your thick skull that I'm not going to keep using Yena and her family as a safety net for your mistakes?"
There's a tense silence, the only sound my harsh breathing as I try to rein in my temper. Finally, my father speaks up, his voice small and chastised.
"You're right, Yul-ah. I'm sorry, I really am. I shouldn't have done that without asking you first."
I squeeze my eyes shut, pinching the bridge of my nose as I feel the first tinges of a stress headache coming on. "Just...just tell me what I need to do to get these people off my back."
"They want the full amount by the end of the week," he says quietly. "With interest, it comes out to around 70 million won."
A humorless laugh escapes my lips as I shake my head in disbelief. "70 million won by the end of the week? Are you serious right now?"
"I know, I know it's a lot, but these people...they aren't playing around, son. They threatened to come after you if I don't pay up."
My jaw clenches at the thought of these thugs going after my wife and children over my sorry excuse for a father's debt. "I'll take care of it," I mutter darkly. "Just don't ever put me or my family in this kind of situation again."
"Yul, don't be foolish. These people are serious. If you can't get money. you need to ask for—"
"I said I'll take care of it!" I snap, simply ending the call and slipping my phone back into my pocket. I stand there for a few moments, staring out over the balcony railing as I struggle to process everything.
The glass door slides open behind me and I turn to see Yena poking her head out, a concerned crease in her brow. "Everything okay?" she asks softly.
I force a tight smile, shoving my anger down deep inside. "Yeah. Everything's fine. Just…stuff with my dad. I've got it handled."
I try to give her a reassuring smile but even I know it probably looks forced.
Yena doesn't look fully convinced, but she lets it go, stepping outside to join me. "You sure? You look a little stressed."
"I'm sure," I assure her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "Just something annoying, nothing to worry about."
I grit my teeth as I try to come up with solutions. There's no way in hell I'm telling Yena about this. And even less chance I'm asking Inha for help. The sheer embarrassment alone might kill me before a fucking loan shark ever gets the chance. I think I'd rather chance my luck with the brokers than see the pity on Yena's face if she learned what kind of mess I'm in.
***
Several weeks go by and the weight of the debt feels like it's crushing me. I'm constantly looking over my shoulder, jumping at every noise. The loan sharks have been relentless, calling me at all hours and showing up unannounced to make threats.
A few times they've caught up to me, demanding I pay what I owe immediately. The first time, it's just two of them cornering me outside a coffee shop. Through clenched teeth, I tell them I don't have the full amount yet but I'm working on getting it. One of the guys gets in my face, grabbing a fistful of my shirt.
"You better get it soon, kid. The boss isn't as patient as we are."
He shoves me hard and I stumble back, my heart pounding in my ears. I can't let Yena or Inha see me shaken like this. I have to keep it together, for them.
The next run-in is worse. Three of them jump me outside a restaurant supply store after I leave a photoshoot. They knock me to the ground, kicking me in the ribs until I'm curled up gasping for air.
"Where's our money, punk?" one of them snarls, driving the toe of his boot into my stomach.
"I...I don't have it yet," I wheeze out between coughs. "Just...give me one more week."
The blows keep raining down until I'm a crumpled, bloody mess on the pavement. They leave with a final warning - get them the money by the end of the week or they'll start getting vicious.
I lay there for what feels like an eternity, my battered body screaming in pain. I have to be smarter about this, either find a way to avoid them or find a quicker way to get money. Better me than my family, though. If these bastards so much as look at my family the wrong way, I'll kill them with my bare hands.
I have to find a way to pay them off before the deadline. I consider every option, no matter how extreme. Borrowing from a different lender, pawning valuables, even skipping town if I have to. In the end, I swallow my pride and withdraw a huge chunk from my savings. It's not the full amount, but hopefully it'll buy me some time to come up with the rest.
The day before the deadline, I meet them in a sketchy part of town, a black duffel bag slung over my shoulder. I hand it over, letting them count the stacks of cash inside.
"This is only half of what we're owed," the biggest one growls, glaring at me over the top of the bag.
"I know, I know," I say quickly, trying to keep my voice even. "But it's all I could get on such short notice. Just...just give me two more weeks, that's all I need."
The thug considers me for a long moment, the duffel bag of cash in his meaty fist. "Two weeks," he finally agrees with a curt nod. "If you're short again after that, we start taking out our payments in flesh."
I cringe inwardly. That's going to be harder to hide than a couple of bruises. These bastards aren't kidding around either. If I can't pay up soon, they'll start carving me up without a second thought.
I have to get out of this mess before it's too late.
I manage to make it two weeks with a lot of smart thinking and a little bit of luck without being accosted again. I don't have the money yet, but I've gotten pretty good at detecting trouble and staying off the broker's thugs' radar. At least I thought so.
I've been hiding out in hotels and only making it back home every few days to not worry Yena and Inha, telling them I've been traveling for shoots. It keeps me a little harder to catch. I'm walking off an actual shoot when my phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, the caller ID making my chest tighten.
Inha.
I hesitate for just a moment before swiping to answer, my mouth suddenly dry. "Hey, what's up?"
"Yul?" His voice is tight, strained in a way I've never heard before. Instantly, a knot of dread forms in the pit of my stomach. "Where are you right now?"
"I'm just leaving a shoot, why? What's going on?" I ask, unable to mask the concern creeping into my tone.
There's a pause, like he's struggling to get the words out. Finally, he exhales a shaky breath.
The world seems to shift under my feet at his words, like the ground has opened up to swallow me whole. I grip the phone tighter, my knuckles turning white.
Suddenly I'm running, my breath coming in harsh gasps that turn into sobs. People dodge out of my way, I hear a few exclamations but it all blurs in the wake of my devastation.
I don't think I've ever moved so fast in my life, weaving recklessly through traffic and crowds of people, not caring who I jostle or shove aside in my haste. All I can focus on is the sheer terror lancing through my veins.
No...oh God, no.
I burst through the hospital doors, my heart pounding in my ears. My hands are shaking as I frantically ask the woman at the front desk for Yena's room number. She gives me a pitying look before directing me down the hallway to the recovery wing.
I take off at a sprint, nearly bowling over a nurse as I round the corner. Two doctors in white coats stand outside one of the rooms, their expressions grave. As soon as they see me, they straighten, one of them holding up a hand.
"Where is she? What happened?" I demand, gasping, my whole body trembling.
One of the doctors peers at me, her eyes pinching at the corners when she realizes who I must be.
"Mr. Joo?"
"Yes," I pant, "Please, what's happening?"
"We need to speak with you about your wife's condition."
"Is she okay? What happened?" I ask again.
The doctors exchange a somber look before the older one begins explaining in a measured tone. "Mrs. Jang was involved in a very serious car accident. It appears her vehicle was struck from the front and rear, the police are going on the assumption it was intentional based on the damage."
My stomach drops at her words, a cold sweat breaking out across my skin. Intentionally? As in... someone did this to her on purpose?
The younger doctor picks up where her colleague left off. "When the paramedics arrived, they found Mrs. Jang had been forcibly removed from the vehicle. She had...extensive bruising and trauma consistent with being beaten."
I feel like I'm going to be sick, bile rising in my throat. Beaten? They're saying someone dragged my wife out of her wrecked car and beat her?
"Is she..." I have to pause, swallowing hard to keep my voice from cracking. "Is she going to be alright?"
"She's out of surgery now and resting," the older doctor says solemnly. "We were able to stabilize her condition."
A wave of relief washes over me and I release the breath I've been holding. At least she's alive. That's what matters most right now. I open my mouth to ask if I can see her, but the grave look on the doctors' faces stops me.
The younger one gives me a sympathetic look, almost like she dreads having to say whatever she's about to. "Mr. Joo...I'm very sorry, but the trauma Mrs. Jang sustained was too severe. She...she's had a miscarriage. The child did not survive."
The words hit me like a sledgehammer to the gut, stealing my breath. I stagger back, my legs suddenly like rubber as the doctor's voice fades into a dull roar in my ears. Yena lost the baby. Our baby.
I feel numb as the doctor's words register. Our baby...gone. A life that Yena and I created together, snuffed out before it even had a chance.
Rage and sorrow war within me, each emotion threatening to swallow me whole. They attacked her, attacked Yena, attacked our child. I never would've dreamed of anyone stooping so low. To intentionally cause the death of a child…
My gaze drifts over to Inha then, sitting hunched in one of the hard plastic chairs nearby. He's sobbing openly into his hands, his broad shoulders shaking with each ragged breath. Despite our differences, in this moment I feel nothing but empathy for the man.
He loved that child too, in his own way. Maybe not with the same depth and ferocity that I did, but that baby was still his family. His blood. And now it's been ripped away from him in the most violent, horrific manner possible.
A choked sound escapes my throat as the first tears spill down my cheeks. This anguish, this devastation...it's too much for one man to bear alone. I crumple to the cold linoleum, my legs giving out as a torrent of grief washes over me.
Great, heaving sobs wrack my body as I let out an anguished wail, burying my face in my hands. I can feel the doctors hovering nearby, their voices a dull murmur as they try in vain to console me. But there is no comfort to be found, not when the very core of my being has been carved out and left to bleed.
Through the blur of tears, I catch sight of Inha again. He's lifted his head, his eyes red and swollen, glistening tracks of anguish etched into his ashen face. Our gazes lock and in that moment, I see my own suffering reflected back at me.
I reach out a trembling hand towards him and Inha doesn't hesitate. He's at my side in an instant, pulling me into a fierce embrace as we cling to each other like lifelines in a turbulent sea. Our bodies shake in unison, wracked with the force of our combined sorrow as we keen our heartbreak into each other's shoulders.
In that moment, there are no boundaries. No walls dividing his family from mine. We are simply two broken men, united in our suffering over the cruelest blow life could deal.
***
When Yena finally wakes, hours later, I can't bring myself to go into that hospital room, not yet. The guilt is like a leaden weight dragging me down, making each step feel like I'm wading through quicksand. How can I face Yena after what's happened? After the hell I've brought crashing down on our family?
I linger in the hallway, watching through the narrow window in the door as Inha sits vigil at Yena's bedside. She looks so small and frail, swathed in crisp white sheets and blankets. Bruises mottle her beautiful face in sickening shades of purple and yellow. Just glimpsing her battered form is enough to reopen the gaping wound in my chest.
This is my fault. All my fault. If I hadn't been so careless, so goddamn arrogant...
Inha catches sight of me hovering and his eyes narrow to slits. He jerks his head, a clear sign for me to enter, but I can't. Not yet. I shake my head minutely and his glare intensifies before he turns his attention back to Yena.
For two endless days, I exist in a limbo of anguish. I pace that hallway like a caged animal, tormented by the mere thought of facing Yena. Of seeing the light snuffed out in her eyes when she looks at me and realizes what I've done.
On the third day, Inha finally emerges looking more haggard and defeated than I've ever seen him. Dark circles ring his bloodshot eyes and his expensive suit hangs off his frame, rumpled and stained. Without a word, he brushes past me, leaving the door cracked in silent invitation.
It's now or never. Steeling my nerves, I push the door open and force my leaden feet to carry me inside.
Yena is awake, but just barely. Her eyes are open but glazed, staring unseeingly at the wall opposite her bed. The sight of her injuries up close is like a physical blow, forcing the air from my lungs in a harsh rasp.
Hesitantly, I approach the bed, my hands clenching and unclenching spasmodically at my sides. When I'm close enough for her to see me, those hollow eyes slowly track over until they meet mine.
I feel a tidal wave of self-hatred crash over me as I gaze into Yena's haunted eyes. This is all my fault. My arrogance, my desperation to keep my troubles from her...it led to this nightmare.
With a strangled sob, I sink to my knees beside her bed, burying my face in her lap as hot tears soak through the thin hospital blanket. "I'm so sorry," I rasp out between heaving breaths. "God, Yena...I'm so, so sorry."
Her delicate fingers thread through my hair, her touch feather-light yet still managing to sear into my skin. "This wasn't your fault, Yul-ah," she murmurs, her voice raw and ragged from crying.
I shake my head vehemently against her thigh, unable to meet her gaze. "No, no you don't understand. This is all because of me. Because of my mistakes."
Mustering what little resolve I have left, I lift my head to look at her properly. Her dark eyes are rimmed in red, her beautiful face marred by the vivid evidence of the violence wrought against her. Yet beneath the pain, beneath the sorrow, I can still see the woman I love more than life itself peering back at me.
I owe her the truth, no matter how much it pains me.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I begin to confess the secrets I've been harboring. "A few weeks ago I got a call from my father...he got mixed up with some bad people, loan sharks. Trying to keep our family business afloat."
Yena's brow furrows slightly as she listens, her mouth parting like she wants to interrupt. I press on before she can.
"By the time I found out, the debt had spiraled out of control. My dad...he couldn't pay it back. So it fell to me to deal with the brokers."
I pause, squeezing my eyes shut as the memories wash over me - the threats, the beatings, the constant fear of what those animals might do if I didn't comply.
"I tried, Yena. I swear I tried everything to pay them off. Took any job I could, borrowed money from whoever would lend it...but it was never enough. They just kept piling on more fees, more interest. It was a deep, dark hole I couldn't climb out of."
Reaching out, Yena takes my hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze, silently urging me to continue. I draw what little strength I can from her touch.
"I didn't want to drag you and Inha into my mess, so I tried to handle it alone. I was so careful, always looking over my shoulder...but they still found me."
My voice cracks then, the memory of that horrible day replaying in vivid detail. "They wanted to send a message, make an example out of me for being behind on payments. So they..." I have to pause, swallowing hard. "It was them. They were the ones who went after you. Who…"
I glance down at her middle, my mouth dry.
I watch in anguished silence as Yena processes my confession, her delicate features contorting with dawning horror. The light in her eyes dims, replaced by a hollow sort of betrayal that lances straight through my heart.
"You...you kept this from me?" she rasps, her voice trembling. "All this time, you've been dealing with those monsters alone?"
I can only nod mutely, shame burning hot in my gut. I've let her down in the worst way imaginable.
Yena opens her mouth to respond, but any words she might've uttered are drowned out by a harsh bellow from the doorway.
"You fucking idiot!"
Inha storms into the room like a raging bull, his face twisted into an expression of pure, unbridled fury. Before I can so much as blink, he's on me, his meaty hands fisting in the collar of my shirt and hauling me up off the floor.
"You did this!" he snarls, rage pouring him off of him like heat. "You brought this hell down on us with your idiocy!"
With a feral growl, Inha cocks back his free hand and lashes out, his knuckles cracking against my cheekbone. White-hot pain explodes across my face and I grunt, reeling from the blow. But I don't fight back, don't even try to defend myself.
He's right. Every bitter accusation, every venom-laced insult...I deserve it all and more.
"Inha, stop!" Yena cries, her voice thin and reedy.
But he pays her no heed. Gripping me by the collar of my shirt, Inha nearly shakes me. I can taste copper on my tongue as my lip splits open, but the physical pain is nothing compared to the soul-deep anguish carving through me.
I sag in Inha's grasp. Yena's anguished sobs ring out.
Just as I think he might take another swing, I hear a commotion from the hallway. Suddenly, there are hands grabbing at Inha, trying to pull the enraged man off me. He bucks and snarls like a wild animal, still fighting to get his hits in.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, we're wrenched apart. I crumple bonelessly to the floor in a heap, my battered face throbbing in time with my pulse. Inha is dragged, kicking and screaming, from the room by a gaggle of orderlies.
Silence rings out in the wake of the violence, punctuated only by Yena's muffled weeping. Gingerly, I lift my head to find her staring at me with those haunted eyes, her expression one of pure heartbreak.
In that moment, I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole. Because I know no amount of apologizing, no penance I could pay, will ever be enough to make up for the suffering I've caused the two people I love most in this world.
***
I sit in the dimly lit hallway outside Yena's room, my head cradled in my hands as the weight of my sins bears down on me. The throbbing ache in my face from Inha's hit is a constant, dull reminder of the devastation I've caused.
Footsteps approach and I tense, knowing without looking up who it is. Inha's expensive loafers come into view, stopping just in front of me. I brace myself for another barrage of fury, for more accusations and blows that I know I deserve.
"Look at me, you coward."
His voice is low, laced with a quiet menace that raises the hairs on the back of my neck. Reluctantly, I lift my gaze to meet his. Inha's handsome features are twisted into a mask of pure disgust as he looks down at me.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?" he hisses through gritted teeth. "Any concept of the pain you've caused?"
I open my mouth to respond, to offer up what meager apologies I can muster, but Inha holds up a hand, silencing me.
"Save your worthless excuses. Nothing you can say will undo the hell you've put us through."
He takes a step closer, towering over me in an unconscious display of dominance. "You had so many chances to come to me, to ask for help. But your damned pride wouldn't allow it, would it?"
Inha's eyes burn with righteous fury as he drives the point home. "That arrogance, that pathetic need to handle everything on your own...it cost us our child, Yul. It almost cost us Yena too."
The accusation slices straight through me, each word a razor-edged blade flaying me to the bone. Because he's right - my pride, my foolish desperation to shield them from my burdens, led to this unforgivable tragedy.
Inha crouches down until we're face-to-face, his expression one of utter loathing. "You were supposed to be my partner, my equal in this family. Someone I could trust and rely on. You were supposed to help me protect her."
His lip curls in a sneer as he gives a derisive shake of his head. "But you're nothing but a liability."
I can't argue, can't even find the words to defend myself against his brutal assessment. Because he's not wrong—I am the source of this suffering, the creator of my own private hell.
"I can't even look at you right now," Inha spits, pushing himself back to his feet. He stares down at me a long moment, his jaw flexing with anger. "You're the worst thing that ever happened to her."
With that final lashing, he turns on his heel and strides away, leaving me crumpled and defeated in his wake. His words cut deeper than any physical blow, flaying me to my core.
I am the worst thing, the darkest stain on this family I fought so hard to be a part of. And as I bury my face in my hands once more, hot tears of shame and self-loathing streaming down my battered cheeks, I can't help but agree.
***
I can't face them, not after what I've done. The shame is too much, the guilt a leaden weight threatening to drag me into the inky depths of despair. So I do what I've always done—I run. I retreat into myself, building walls to keep the world at bay.
It starts small at first. I stop coming by the apartment, making excuses about work or needing space to process everything. But then the excuses become unnecessary as the distance between us grows. Days stretch into weeks without a word passing between Yena, Inha, and myself.
I tell myself it's for the best. That they need time and space to heal, to grieve the unspeakable loss of our child without my presence reopening those fresh wounds. But if I'm being honest with myself, I know the real reason I'm pulling away.
I'm afraid.
Afraid of the anger and recrimination I know I deserve from them both. Afraid of seeing the light snuffed out in Yena's eyes when she looks at me, of having my greatest fears confirmed—that I am, in fact, the worst thing that's ever happened to her. That my arrogance and stupidity have irrevocably tainted the family I fought so hard to be a part of.
I've always been second in this marriage. I knew this from the start. From the moment I saw Yena in person, realized just how beautiful she was in real life, how successful she was on her own. Then next to Inha, with all of his money and family prestige and the kind of easy confidence born of knowing you never have to worry about your place in the world. How could I ever compare? How could Yena ever want me as much as she wanted Inha?
He can give her everything. All the things I wish I could, make all the promises for the future that I can't. And after this, I can see clearly that he can protect her, protect our children in a way I never can. They are better off without me. Safer without me.
The what if's keep running through my mind. What if the accident had been worse? What if they had cornered her on a bridge? What if they'd hurt someone else to get to her? What if...God, what if the other kids had been in the car?
Inha would have killed me right there in that hospital room, of that I have no doubt. And I would have deserved it. I'm no good for them, for any of them. I will never measure up to what Inha can provide, and my choices put all of them in danger.
And Seulgi. I want to die just thinking about if something had happened to Seulgi. I can't bear to think about something else happening because of me. It terrifies me to even think of ever putting them in harm's way because of my past or my mistakes.
So I make the coward's choice and I leave.
I pack up what few belongings I have at the apartment, stuffing them haphazardly into a duffel bag. I take nothing that wasn't originally mine, leaving every gift—save for my car—every reminder of my place in this family behind. It's a hollow, symbolic gesture, but it's all I can do to try and minimize the impact of my departure.
With the bag slung over my shoulder, I take one last look around the lavish penthouse. My eyes linger on the photos clustered on the wall—smiling faces of a happier time, captured moments that now serve as cutting reminders of what I've lost. What I've destroyed through my own hubris.
I turn away before the sting of grief can resurface, before the guilt can swallow me whole once more. Keeping my head down, I make my way out onto the quiet street and into the evening foot traffic, just another anonymous face in the crowd.
The studio apartment I find is a far cry from the opulent home I'm leaving behind. It's small, sparsely furnished and reeks faintly of cigarette smoke. But it's exactly what I need—a place to disappear, to lick my wounds and tumble headlong into my own pit of misery in solitude.
I spend my days in a haze, drifting from the bed to the couch and back again like a specter haunting my own meager existence. Food holds no appeal, so I subsist on whatever protein bars or snacks I can easily acquire. Sleep is even more elusive, plagued by a constant loop of memories that morph into night terrors—Yena's anguished face, the blood, our child slipping away before I could even hold them.
In my darkest moments, I wonder if this is my penance. If this half-life of grief and self-loathing is my atonement for the devastation my pride has caused. There are times where I think of ending it all, of taking whatever meager remains of my battered existence and snuffing it out for good.
But I can never quite bring myself to that point. Some deep-rooted instinct for self-preservation, for penitence, keeps me tethered to this mortal plane. It's a hollowed-out, joyless existence, but it's what I deserve after everything.
At least, that's what I tell myself in those long, lonely hours as I stare out the dingy windows into the uncaring Seoul night. Perhaps this soulless purgatory is simply the next phase of my punishment—a chance to immerse myself in regret until it consumes me utterly.
A few days after Yena finally comes home from the hospital, and days of my avoiding her constant calls and inquiries into where I am, I get a call that has my already dark mood darkening further.
I stare down at the phone in my hand, my father's number glaring up at me from the screen. It's been weeks since I last spoke to him, months really if I'm being honest with myself. Ever since...
No. I can't allow my mind to drift back to that night, to dwell on the memories that have become a waking nightmare. Steeling myself, I draw in a steadying breath and accept the call.
"Hello?" My voice is a low rasp, scratchy from disuse.
"Yul-ah..." Even through the tinny speaker, I can hear the tremor of age in my father's voice. "I heard about what happened to Yena. I'm so sorry, son."
His words are like a physical blow, the air leaving my lungs in a pained wheeze. Of course, he knows—word travels fast, especially when it concerns a family as prominent as the Kangs. I squeeze my eyes shut against the fresh wave of guilt and shame crashing over me.
"I never meant for it to go this far," he continues to plead, "If I thought that Yena or anyone else would be in danger I never would have done it. I thought you would be able to handle it. Please believe me. I don't know how I can ever make it up to you. I'm so sorry."
My father's plea is edged with desperation.
There's a heavy pause on the other end of the line, the weight of past grievances and old wounds hanging thick between us. Finally, my father speaks again, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper.
"I know I can never make up for the mistakes I've made," he says, each word carrying the weight of a lifetime's regrets. "But you're still my son. Let me be here for you now, when you need it most."
I open my mouth to respond, to hurl back the bitter recriminations that have been festering all these years. But then I remember Yena's pale, lifeless form lying in that hospital bed. I remember the blood, the absolute wreckage written across Inha's face. Most of all, I remember the empty space inside me where our child should have been, an endless void eating me alive from the inside out.
I know my father is right—I need help to escape this pit of despair I've stumbled into. But he can't give me what I truly need. No one can.
"I believe you," I murmur, the fight draining out of me all at once. "I believe you never meant any harm and that you're sorry. And I forgive you."
I can hear his sigh of relief, but I don't give him time to feel absolution.
"And that's the last time I will ever cover for your mistakes again. We're done. Don't ever call me again."
Before he can respond, I kill the call and toss the phone aside, burying my face in my hands as the grief washes over me anew. As the sobs wrack my body, a single thought surfaces in my mind, cold and immutable.
Yena deserves better than this, than me. She deserves someone who can give her everything, someone who won't bring devastation and ruin into her life. Someone like Inha, who can love and protect her with everything he has.
It's that thought, that bone-deep certainty, that finally allows me to let go. To surrender myself fully to the misery coiled within and accept that, for me, there is no way back from this path I've set myself on.
Inha can give her the life she deserves, the life I'm too broken to provide. And once I've paid my penance, once the guilt has bled me dry...perhaps then I can find the strength to let her go for good.