Inha
Present
I stare at Yena. The defiant, steadfast look in her beautiful eyes, the solemn lines of her face, the knowing, clear light in her gaze. A weight lifts from my chest that I didn't even realize I'd been carrying. Looking back, I can suddenly pinpoint the exact moments when she started acting like her old self again.
That night when she came home and reached for me for the first time, the first time we slept together since she'd had everything erased—I should have known she remembered something. The way she clung to me, the desperation in her kisses...it was like she was trying to reconnect with a part of herself that had been lost.
And then the next day, when she mentioned my gift to Yul. The casual way she brought it up, like she already knew the story behind it. At the time, I just brushed it off, not wanting to dredge up ancient history. But now it's clear she was testing the waters, seeing how much I would reveal.
Even the little things make sense now—the way she navigated the apartment with ease, knowing exactly where everything was. How comfortable she seemed putting the kids to bed, like she'd done it a thousand times before. Her natural intimacy with me, falling back into our physical rhythm without missing a beat.
I replay that conversation in the living room, when she insisted on having Yul move back in. The determination in her voice, the confidence with which she shut down my protests...it was so quintessentially Yena. She always did have a way of bending me to her will, even when I thought I knew better.
Finally, the truth clicks into place. She remembers. Relief washes over me, knowing I don't have to tiptoe around the past anymore. That she understands, she remembers...and still chose me, chose us.
My beautiful, headstrong wife. Even after everything, she's still fighting for our family, determined to put the pieces back together. A small part of me wonders if I have it in me to forgive Yul, to let him back into our lives after what he put us through.
I feel a rush of anger and hurt rise up inside me. My jaw clenches and I fix her with an intense stare.
"So you remember everything? Then you should know exactly why I can never forgive Yul," I spit out, unable to keep the bitterness from seeping into my voice.
Yena holds my gaze steadily, her expression a mixture of understanding and pleading. "Inha..."
I shake my head vehemently, feeling my control start to slip. "You don't understand, Yena. It's not just about the accident or losing our child." I swallow hard, the memories threatening to overwhelm me. "What Yul did after...the way he treated you, shut you out completely...it was unforgivable."
Flashes of Yena's anguished face, her red-rimmed eyes from crying herself to sleep night after night, play through my mind. The sight of her wasting away, losing her vibrant spark as Yul's rejection slowly crushed her spirit.
"He broke you, Yena. Shattered you into a million pieces with his callous disregard. And I had to stand by helplessly and watch as the woman I loved died a little more each day." My voice cracks with emotion and I have to pause, reining in the fury that still simmers after all this time.
One Year Earlier…
I pace back and forth across the living room, my phone clutched tightly in my hand as I repeatedly try Yena's number again. Still no answer. A knot of dread forms in the pit of my stomach as the minutes tick by.
Normally, I wouldn't be this worried if she didn't pick up right away. Yena has always been fiercely independent, needing her space and time to herself. But ever since the accident...she's been different. Fragile in a way I've never seen before. Like a piece of her bright, beautiful spirit has been permanently dimmed.
This morning, the hollowness in her eyes as I left for work cut me to the core. She barely acknowledged me, staring off into the distance with those dead, empty eyes that have become all too familiar lately. In that moment, I would have given anything to see her smile again, to bring even a flicker of light back to her face.
I knew leaving her alone today was a mistake. Ever since Yul left, moving out without so much as a backwards glance, she's been slowly unraveling. The rejection from the man she loves so deeply has been agonizing to witness. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to piece her back together.
My mind starts spiraling, picturing increasingly horrific scenarios. What if something happened to her? What if, in her fragile state, she did something reckless or...worse? The thought makes me physically ill. I can't lose her, not like this. Not when we're already drowning in so much grief and loss.
I dial her number again, my hands shaking with barely restrained panic. This time it rings once before going to voicemail. A small spark of hope flickers in my chest—at least her phone is on. Maybe she just needs some more time.
Still, the uneasy feeling refuses to dissipate. I know I won't be able to relax until I see her face, until I can look into those beautiful eyes and know that she's alright. She's already been through so much.
A few months earlier...
The apartment is deathly quiet as I step through the door, the usual sounds of Yena's laughter and the kids' playful chatter noticeably absent. A heaviness hangs in the air, a thick melancholy that seems to permeate every corner.
I follow the eerie silence down the hall to our bedroom. The door is cracked open just a sliver, but it's enough to make my heart plummet into my stomach. Yena is curled up on the bed, her slight frame trembling with muffled sobs.
Seeing her like this, so utterly devastated and broken, is like a physical blow. I would do anything to take away her pain, to shoulder this burden for her. But I'm helpless against the demons slowly devouring her from the inside out.
I cross the room in a few quick strides and gather her into my arms. She doesn't resist, simply collapses against me in a crumpled heap. Her cries, the anguished wails torn from the depths of her very soul, reverberate through my chest.
"Shhh..." I murmur helplessly, rocking her and stroking her hair. Empty platitudes, meaningless in the face of such profound grief. There are no words that can dull the razor-sharp edges of our loss, of her loss.
My own vision blurs with unshed tears as I hold her, feeling each ragged breath like a physical wound. She's fading before my eyes, the brilliant spark that first drew me to her dimming with every one of Yul's rejections.
That's what hurts the most—knowing that the man who promised to love and cherish her is the one systematically stripping her of her light, her joy. With each unanswered call, each ignored message, another piece of Yena crumbles away.
She's made countless trips to Yul's apartment, only to return with fresh tear tracks lining her beautiful face. No matter how much I beg or reason with her, she refuses to give up on him. And Yul continues to slam the door in her face, over and over again.
I tighten my arms around her, pulling her closer as a fresh wave of anguished cries wracks her slight frame. My throat works uselessly, desperate to offer some kind of solace or comfort. But what can I possibly say to heal wounds this deep?
So I simply hold her, rocking us both through the storm of her grief. I'll be her anchor, her safe harbor to weather this torment, for as long as it takes. No matter how many pieces he breaks her into, I'll be there to put her back together.
***
I get home later than usual, the traffic a nightmare after yet another fender bender on the expressway. As I step through the door, I'm greeted by an eerie silence that makes my chest tighten with dread.
These days, the apartment always feels heavy, weighted down by Yena's despondent energy. But tonight...tonight feels different. More oppressive, like the walls are closing in around me.
"Yena?" I call out tentatively, already knowing in my gut where I will find her.
Sure enough, as I round the corner into the hallway, a sliver of light spills out from the cracked doorway of the nursery. My heart clenches painfully in my chest. I can picture the scene behind that door all too vividly—Yena sitting frozen in the rocking chair, her lifeless eyes locked on the empty crib before her.
With a resigned sigh, I push open the door and step inside. Yena doesn't even register my presence at first, so deep is her trance-like state. It isn't until I crouch down in front of her that she finally blinks and focuses on me.
"Inha..." she murmurs, her voice barely above a cracked whisper. "You're home."
I reach up to cup her face, my thumb gently tracing the dark circles under her eyes. "I'm here. Have you eaten anything today?"
She shakes her head listlessly, her gaze drifting back to the crib like a magnet. A lump forms in my throat as I watch her shoulders sag, the weight of her sorrow seeming to physically crush her slight frame.
"Yena, you have to take care of yourself," I plead softly. "The baby...he wouldn't want to see you like this."
As soon as the words leave my lips, I instantly regret them. Yena's eyes squeeze shut, her face contorting in anguish as my thoughtless comment lances straight through her fragile defenses. A choked sob tears from her throat.
"Oh, Yena...I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—"
But she's already crumpling in on herself, harsh cries wracking her body as the dam finally bursts. I quickly gather her into my arms, rocking her and murmuring meaningless comforts as she clings to me with white-knuckled desperation.
This was how most nights go lately. I will find Yena drifting through the apartment like a melancholy specter, haunting the rooms that should have rung with the laughter and joy of new life. More often than not, I will discover her curled up in the nursery, stroking the soft blankets and whispering to the empty space where our son should have been.
Each time it guts me, watching her torment herself like this. I want nothing more than to soothe her pain, to shoulder the burden of our shared grief so she won't have to suffer alone. But no matter how tightly I hold her, no matter how many reassurances I whisper, I can never reach the part of her that Yul has irreparably broken.
As her ragged sobs slowly taper off into hiccuping gasps, I brush the damp hair back from her face and press a lingering kiss to her forehead. "I'm here, Yena," I murmur fiercely. "Always. And I'm not going anywhere, I promise."
She nods wordlessly, her eyes still squeezed shut as she burrows deeper into my embrace. My arms tighten around her protectively, wishing I could simply absorb her sorrow into myself. Take it all away so she can find peace, even if just for a moment.
But we both know the truth. As long as Yul keeps rejecting her, keeps denying her the love and comfort she so desperately craves, the gaping wound in her heart will remain raw and unhealed. And there is nothing I can do to fix it.
***
I pace back and forth in the living room, my heart pounding in my chest as I try to call Yena again. No answer. I hang up and immediately dial Yul's number, but it just rings and rings before going to voicemail. Panic starts to rise in my throat, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Something is wrong, I can feel it in my gut.
I can't just sit here and do nothing, so I make a split-second decision. I quickly call the nanny and ask him to watch the kids, then grab my coat and head out the door. My car screeches out of the garage as I speed towards Yul's apartment, praying that I'm not too late.
As I pull up to the building, I see Yena's white Mercedes haphazardly on the street. My heart sinks, but at least I know I'm in the right place. I rush inside and take the stairs two at a time, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I finally reach Yul's door.
I punch in the keycode and throw open the door, calling out for Yena. "Yena! Are you here?" Silence greets me, and I feel a cold sweat break out on my forehead. I start to search the apartment, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of her.
That's when I see it. Her bag, sitting on the table amidst a mess of torn-up papers. I walk over and pick up one of the scraps, my heart sinking as I realize what it is. It's a divorce application. Or at least it was, now it's been shredded into a thousand tiny pieces scattered over the floor.
My mind races as I try to put together what happened. Did they have a fight? Did something go wrong? And where is Yena now?
Alarmed, I start looking for Yena, calling her name as I rush through the apartment. "Yena! Yena, where are you?" I feel a rising sense of panic as I search each room, my heart pounding in my chest.
Finally, I reach the bathroom door and push it open. The sight that greets me has my stomach dropping through the floor. Yena's body is sprawled on the floor, her eyes closed and face pale. I rush to her side, pulling her into my lap and trying to shake her awake. "Yena! Holy shit, Yena! Wake up!"
But she doesn't respond, her body limp and unresponsive. It's then that I see the bottle of medications in the sink, a sickening realization dawning on me.
"No, no, no, fuck! Yena, no!" Fear makes me hysterical as I scream her name again, desperately trying to wake her.
I check her pulse, relief flooding through me when I feel it, but it's weak and erratic. Panic sets in as I fumble for my phone, my hands shaking so badly that I can barely dial the numbers.
"Emergency Services, do you need assistance?" Comes the unwelcomingly calm voice.
"I need an ambulance! My wife, I just found her on the floor in the…other apartment. There are pills bottles all over, I think she took them and she's not responding!" I shake her again as I speak, turning her head so that I can see her face, her eyes don't move behind her lids.
"I understand, sir, I'm sending an ambulance. Is she breathing, can you feel a pulse?"
I nod, stupidly, since the responder can't see me.
"She's breathing. Barely."
"Just hold tight. Help will be there soon."
I drop the phone, taking Yena's still face into my hands.
"They're coming. Don't leave, do you hear me?" I tell Yena, pulling her body into my lap. I can feel myself shaking, my eyes blurring with tears as I stare down into her unresponsive face.
"Don't you dare fucking leave me like this, Yena. Don't you leave all of us behind like this." I drop my head, a sob breaking free as I touch my forehead to hers.
"Please, don't go," I beg.
I beg every force and deity in the universe to just keep her here with me.
***
I sit alone in the cold, sterile hallway outside Yena's hospital room, my body heavy with exhaustion and my mind a whirlwind of emotions. The fluorescent lights overhead buzz, casting harsh shadows on the floor as I stare blankly at the door separating me from the woman I love.
The doctors and nurses have been working tirelessly to get the drugs out of her system, but the process feels agonizingly slow. With each passing minute, I can feel my hope slipping away, replaced by a growing sense of dread.
I called Yul several times, desperately trying to reach him, but he never picked up. In the end, I resorted to sending him a simple text: "Yena's in the hospital. She tried to kill herself." I hoped the gravity of the situation would be enough to get him here, and it seems it has.
I hear footsteps approaching, and I look up to see Yul rounding the corner. His eyes are red-rimmed and puffy, his face a mask of guilt and anguish. I watch him as he stops in front of Yena's room, peering through the small window in the door. His hand comes up to rest against the glass, and I can see the tremble in his fingers.
In any other circumstance, I would be angry at him, furious even. But right now, I'm too drained to feel anything but a hollow sadness. I watch him silently, my gaze following the line of his shoulder as it sags under the weight of his grief.
He looks wrecked, as broken as I feel. The sight of him standing there, so utterly devastated, stirs something in me. A flicker of empathy, perhaps. Or maybe it's just the shared pain of two men who love the same woman, both helpless to save her from herself.
I don't know how long we sit there, Yul and I, separated by the thin wall of Yena's hospital room. Time seems to have lost all meaning, the minutes and hours blurring together into an indistinct haze. All I know is that I can't bear to leave her side, not even for a moment.
And so I stay, my eyes fixed on the door, waiting for any sign that she's going to be okay. Hoping that, somehow, we can find a way to put the pieces of our shattered lives back together.
I glance over at Yul, his face a haunting mirror of the anguish twisting in my own chest. He looks utterly defeated, like a man who has lost everything that ever mattered to him. And in a way, he has.
"Will she...?" His voice cracks, the unfinished question hanging heavy in the air between us.
I swallow hard, my throat feeling raw and abused. How can I possibly put into words the torment Yena has been enduring these past months? The steady erosion of her spirit, her light, until she finally broke under the weight of her grief?
"I don't know," I admit, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears. "Physically, the doctors say she'll recover. But Yena..." I trail off, shaking my head slowly. "She's been dying inside for a long time now."
Yul's shoulders slump, as though an invisible weight has settled upon them. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, seemingly at a loss.
I can't stop the bitter words that spill out next. "This is on you too, you know."
His head whips up, eyes widening in a mixture of guilt and shock. I barrel on, unable to contain the resentment that has been festering all this time.
"Yena has been begging you for help in the only way she knows how. She's been reaching out, trying to pull you back in." My voice grows thick with emotion as I recall her countless tear-stained pleas for me to fix things with Yul, to make him see reason. "But you've done nothing but push her away."
Yul flinches as if I've struck him, his face crumpling. I hate how much it pains me to see him like this, hating myself even more for prolonging his suffering when he's already endured so much.
"I've tried everything to bring her back," I continue, more softly now. "But the one thing she needed most...was you. To grieve with her, to share this unbearable burden. Not shut her out and make her shoulder it all alone."
The last of my words seem to echo hollowly in the empty hallway. Yul doesn't respond, his eyes downcast and lips pressed into a tight line. I can practically see the guilt and self-loathing rolling off him in waves.
I take a deep, steadying breath, trying to rein in the anger that has been simmering inside me for far too long. When I finally speak, my voice is low and controlled, but laced with an undercurrent of steel.
"It was your responsibility to help her heal, Yul. Your duty as her husband to be there for her, to support her through the darkest moment of her life." I shake my head slowly, the weight of disappointment and betrayal settling heavily on my shoulders. "But instead of stepping up, you did the exact opposite. You abandoned her when she needed you most."
Yul opens his mouth, no doubt to offer some feeble excuse, but I silence him with a hard look. I'm done listening to his justifications, his empty apologies. All I can focus on is the sight of Yena, pale and unmoving on that bathroom floor, the life slowly draining out of her.
"Do you have any idea how close we came to losing her?" My voice cracks with the force of emotion behind those words. "Any idea what it would have done to me...to our children...if she hadn't made it?"
I suck in a ragged breath, my hands clenching into white-knuckled fists at my sides. "That woman in there has been fighting tooth and nail to pull herself out of the abyss you threw her into. And where were you, Yul? Wallowing in your own misplaced guilt instead of being the man she needed you to be."
Yul flinches, his eyes squeezing shut as if he can block out the truth of my accusations. But I'm far from done.
"We might still lose her, you realize that?" I growl, feeling the fury bubbling up from the depths of my soul. "Yena might never come back from the brink you pushed her to. And if that happens..."
I trail off, shaking my head as words fail me. The mere thought of a world without Yena's light, her warmth, her love...it's unfathomable. Unacceptable.
"If we lose her because of your selfish bullshit, I will never forgive you," I spit out, glaring at him with every ounce of contempt and loathing I can muster. "Not for as long as I live. You'll have killed the best part of me, Yul. And I'll make sure you have to live with that guilt for the rest of your days."
The venom in my voice seems to finally penetrate Yul's defenses. He shrinks back, his shoulders curling inward as if to protect himself from the force of my fury. Good. Let him feel even a fraction of the anguish that's been tearing me apart from the inside.
Because at this moment, staring at the man who almost destroyed my entire world, I realize one thing–if Yena doesn't make it through this, if her light is extinguished from our lives...then neither of us will ever recover.
Present
I feel Yena's arms wrap around me, her warmth enveloping me in a tender embrace. My body tenses at first, still reeling from the onslaught of emotions unleashed by our confrontation with Yul. But then her soft voice reaches my ears, and the floodgates within me burst open.
"I'm sorry," she murmurs, her words muffled against my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Inha. What I did…it was impulsive and I wasn't thinking clearly. I hurt you too, but I couldn't see that then because I was sick. What happened broke my heart and mind."
A choked sob escapes my lips as I clutch her tighter, pulling her impossibly close. The grief, the fear, the endless torment of the past few months—it all comes crashing down on me in waves. I've been holding it together with sheer force of will, bottling up the maelstrom of emotions raging inside me. But now, with Yena's arms around me, her soothing presence anchoring me, I can no longer stem the tide.
"Don't leave me again," I rasp, my voice thick and raw with anguish. "I can't... I won't survive it if you leave me again."
The memories assault me—finding her lifeless body on that bathroom floor, the endless hours spent at her bedside, watching her slip in and out of consciousness. The terrifying thought that she might never open her eyes again, that our children might grow up without their mother's love and guidance.
It was a waking nightmare, one that still haunts me every time I close my eyes. A hell of my own making, fueled by the bitter feud between Yul and me. And in the midst of it all, Yena had been the one to suffer the most, her fragile spirit crushed under the weight of our combined failures.
"I promise, Inha," Yena whispers, her fingers tangling in my hair as she holds me close. "I promise I'll never leave you again."
Those words are the absolution I've been craving, the salve to soothe the gaping wound in my soul. I cling to them, letting them wash over me like a baptismal rain, cleansing me of the guilt and self-loathing that have festered for far too long.
A ragged sob tears free from my throat, the dam finally breaking as the tears begin to flow. I bury my face in the crook of Yena's neck, my body shuddering with the force of my release. All the pent-up fear, the crippling anxiety, the bone-deep weariness—it all comes pouring out in a torrent of grief and relief.
Yena holds me through it all, her touch grounding me, her presence a beacon in the darkness that had threatened to consume us both. She rocks me gently, whispering soothing words as I let the storm within me rage unchecked.
In this moment, with my wife cradled in my arms, I can finally begin to let go of the burdens that have weighed me down for far too long. The anger, the resentment, the fear of losing her—it all starts to melt away, replaced by a newfound sense of hope and gratitude.
Because Yena is here, alive and whole, her spirit unbroken despite the trials she has endured. That's the only thing I need.
After allowing me to vent and release the backlogged anguish, Yena pulls back slightly, her eyes shining with renewed determination. She takes my face in her hands, her touch gentle yet firm, demanding my full attention.
"Inha," she begins, her voice steady and resolute. "I need you to help me. You've already lived through this once, and you know that I can't truly be happy without Yul in our lives too."
Her words hit me, the air leaving my lungs in a harsh exhale. Deep down, I know she's right. As much as it pains me to admit it, our family will never be whole without Yul's presence. He's an integral part of Yena's heart, and by extension, mine.
But the mere thought of letting him back into our lives, of allowing him the opportunity to hurt Yena again, fills me with a visceral sense of dread. I shake my head, my jaw clenching as the instinctive need to protect her wells up within me.
"Yena, I... I can't," I rasp, my voice strained with the effort of holding back the torrent of protests that threaten to spill forth. "After everything he's done, how can you even consider it?"
Yena's gaze remains unwavering, her eyes boring into mine with an intensity that steals my breath away.
"Because I love him, Inha," she says simply, her words carrying a weight that resonates deep within my soul. "Just as I love you. And I can't bear to be without either of you in my life."
I open my mouth to argue, but Yena presses a finger to my lips, effectively silencing me.
"I know it won't be easy," she continues, her tone softening slightly. "But I have a plan, and I need you to listen carefully."
Despite the turmoil churning within me, I find myself nodding, unable to deny her anything when she looks at me with such unwavering conviction.
Yena takes a deep breath, her fingers intertwining with mine as she begins to lay out her strategy. I listen intently, my heart torn between trepidation and a cautious glimmer of hope.