F79

Yesterday, just speaking to Yeonho’s mother on the phone had made Siwoo so tense he could hardly breathe. But now, with Yeonho trying to run from him like this, he didn’t even have the luxury of feeling nervous. When he bowed in greeting, she moved to the sofa and welcomed him with a calm gesture.

“Come in.”

“I must be making you uncomfortable.”

“No, not at all.”

Was it just his imagination? Siwoo felt like there was something meaningful behind her smile. Even though he was the one who had killed her stepson, she truly didn’t seem to feel any discomfort around him.

If he had come yesterday, he would have approached the subject of Yeonho’s phone carefully, with slow and polite conversation. But now, with no way to understand what Yeonho was thinking, every second felt critical.

“I really didn’t want to bring this up the moment we met, but… I don’t have much time, so would it be alright if I got straight to the point? I’m very sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m a busy woman myself. Just tell me what you need and be on your way.”

Siwoo bowed in gratitude, then asked directly.

“The phone Yeonho was using during the ski resort accident… Do you have it?”

She stared at him without the slightest change in expression, still wearing that warm smile.

“Is there a reason you’re looking for that now?”

“I think there’s something in it I need to know. Something important.”

She nodded readily. Though her smile never wavered, something had changed, there was sadness in her eyes now.

“I don’t know how you figured out I had it, but yes, I did.”

“You didn’t throw it away, did you?”

“No. Yeonho came home early this morning and took it. He asked me to give it back to him.”

“Yeonho took it?”

Siwoo frowned. He was too late.

“If you’d asked me for it, I never would have given it to you,” she said. “It belongs to Yeonho. I had no right to hand it over. He’s the owner, so I returned it to him. I had no reason to lie about that. I never would have given it to you.”

Siwoo nodded. Maybe it was better that Yeonho had taken it himself. It wasn’t something she would’ve given him anyway.

The fact that Yeonho had given the phone to his mother after the accident, and that he had retrieved it as soon as his memories returned, was a major revelation. The urgency and anxiety that had consumed Siwoo began to ease, and he gave her a more relaxed farewell.

“I understand. I’m sorry for barging in like this and bringing up something so sudden. Thank you for your time.”

When Siwoo rose to leave, Yeonho’s mother stood as well to see him out.

“Kim Siwoo-ssi.”

“Yes?”

“…I’m sorry.”

She didn’t seem to be apologizing for not giving him the phone. That had never been his to take.

So then what was she sorry for? Did she know he wasn’t the one who killed Seong Junhee? Had she known all along and just pretended not to?

Siwoo didn’t ask. He just smiled faintly and made one request instead.

“If you’re sorry, then please don’t tell Yeonho I came looking for the phone. Please, don’t say anything.”

***

At the staff apartment by the resort, Yeonho took out the phone he’d retrieved from his mother and put it away somewhere safe. Then he sat down on the floor, curling into himself.

He thought he’d handled things cleanly with his father. He thought he’d reasoned with Siwoo. Now all he had to do was stay by Seong Junyoung’s side and keep him in check until he was sure Siwoo was truly safe.

His body felt drained. Even though everything had gone the way he wanted, the fact that he had to carry the burden of his two brothers’ crimes filled him with fury.

After finishing that call with Siwoo, he felt more alone than ever. Truly alone in the world.

He thought back to the conversation he’d had with his mother earlier that morning.

In front of her, Yeonho hadn’t been able to hold back his tears. He cried like a child, whining through the sobs.

“You knew everything, and you just… acted like it was nothing?”

He had begged her not to let people mourn that man’s death so sincerely. But of course, even after Junhee’s funeral, she’d continued to commemorate his death, year after year, and made Yeonho attend every single one.

What had she been thinking, standing there and listening to everyone call Junhee a good man, a kind soul, someone who died too young?

“Why does a bastard like that get to be remembered like that after he dies? I begged you. I just wanted the people who knew Seong Junhee to at least know the truth. Don’t you even feel sorry for me?”

His mother had no words. Yeonho wiped his tears with the back of his hand and continued.

“If even you’re like this, then who in this family can I trust? Did you do it because you didn’t want to divorce Dad? Was there too much you were afraid to lose?”

Tears welled in her eyes.

“If you had died, I would’ve followed your will. If you had remembered what happened, I would’ve done as you asked. But you lived, and you forgot. So I decided… maybe it was better if you didn’t know.”

Yeonho didn’t blame her for feeling that way. He understood. But understanding didn’t mean he wasn’t hurt.

If his mother had only separated from his stepfather back then, Yeonho wouldn’t have ended up being subjected to Junyoung’s vile abuse. Afraid that he might start blaming her even for things that weren’t her fault, Yeonho took a deep breath, wiped his tears, and said calmly,

“I’m only crying because you’re my mom. Who else do I have to complain to?”

He didn’t tell her what Junyoung had done. He had promised his father, and besides, telling her would have felt like laying blame on her.

“Give me back my phone.”

That phone held traces of pain, but it also contained every moment of happiness he’d ever had. He just wanted to see those memories with Siwoo again. It was all he had left.

“Don’t worry, just give it to me. Nothing on that phone will ever be made public. It’ll stay between you and me, forever. You just go on living your life the way you always have.”

At those words, his mother finally began to cry. Yeonho took her silence and tears to mean, “I don’t want to lose this home, this family, or the business.” So to her, who had silently chosen to keep everything, he finally asked the question he had buried for so long.

“Why did you hate me? I knew you hated me, Mom. I’ve always known. If I leave without asking you now, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to love you again.”

The moment he asked, the guilt in her eyes vanished. Her gaze turned sharp, mirroring his own, and her voice dropped, cold and cutting.

“Of course I hated you. Do you not remember how hard I tried to raise you so you wouldn’t become someone who kills?”

“You’re angry because I became a murderer? That’s why you hated me?”

“What mother wouldn’t hate a son who wrote a suicide note? If you were going to kill someone, you should’ve just killed him. Why did you have to try and kill yourself too? How dare you.”

Even if it was a bitter answer, Yeonho was relieved to finally hear it. He let himself fall to the floor.

He needed to go to Junyoung soon and confirm whether he still bore ill intentions toward Siwoo. But he couldn’t bear the thought of sharing the same space with that man. He’d rather set himself on fire than be alone in a room with him.

As Yeonho lay there, berating himself for his lack of resolve, he heard the sound of the door lock beeping. There was only one person who would enter this place unannounced, Kim Siwoo.

“What the–?”

Yeonho’s eyes widened, and he sat up straight. As Siwoo stepped heavily into the room, Yeonho shouted,

“Why are you here? You’re supposed to be in the hospital.”

“After talking to you, I figured staying there would only make me sicker. I’m quitting on Monday. Since you said I make you uncomfortable, I’ll disappear. Happy now?”

Siwoo spoke with a look of disgust. His cold tone stung Yeonho, and he struggled to accept what was happening.

Siwoo knelt on one knee in front of him so their eyes were level.

“I don’t even have the energy to hate you or break you anymore. Spending time on someone like you feels like a waste. You’re not worth that much attention.”

Yeonho couldn’t say a word in response. This was the natural reaction. He kept changing his story. Of course Siwoo was angry and tired of it.

“You like me, then you don’t. Am I supposed to keep dancing to that? I’m done being stupid.”

“…I’m sorry.”

Yeonho forced a smile to hide how deflated he looked, but Siwoo didn’t stop.

“I’ll find someone to fill my position and quit once the date’s set. Then I’ll wrap up my life here and move back to the U.S.”

“You’re going back to the U.S.?”

Yeonho had braced himself for the possibility of never seeing Siwoo again, but hearing him say it so definitively hit harder than expected. Siwoo, seemingly intent on twisting the knife in what was already a mangled heart, added,

“I’m thinking of seeing that guy I used to know over there. I’m never coming back to you. You can go be with that brother of yours or whatever. I don’t care anymore.”

The idea of Siwoo going to someone else brought tears to Yeonho’s eyes. He clenched them shut, forcing himself not to cry, and answered in a subdued voice,

“Oh… okay. That’s… good…”

“I can still stay with you until I leave, right? If you’re really sorry, then the least you can do is have sex with me.”

The way Siwoo demanded sex as compensation for the pain he’d suffered felt unfamiliar, but Yeonho couldn’t refuse. He didn’t have that right.

“No matter how hard it is to be with me, you can hold out for a week or two, can’t you? After that, I’ll disappear from your life forever, just like you want.”

Yeonho began calculating Siwoo’s safety in his head. Conveniently, Junyoung had also mentioned he’d be taking two weeks off. Officially, he was hospitalized for a concussion and abdominal trauma, but in reality, the worst injury had been to his groin. It would take time before he could walk properly again.

So Yeonho was confident Siwoo wouldn’t run into him. As long as he visited the hospital regularly to monitor Junyoung, he could keep him in check. And if things got dangerous, he could always send him to their eldest brother’s side.

While Yeonho was deep in thought, Siwoo added one last thing.

“No, forget it. Even if it’s hard being with me, just deal with it. You don’t get a choice.”

Then he pulled Yeonho into his arms. Yeonho was breathing heavily, clearly overwhelmed, and Siwoo gently scooped him up in his arms. As he patted Yeonho’s small backside, he thought to himself,

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for making you sad. None of that was true. Not even a word of it.

Yeonho, cradled in his arms, looked up at him with lips pressed tightly together, eyes wide and intense. It looked like he was barely holding something back. His eyes shimmered with hurt and hatred. Then, as if he couldn’t hold it in anymore, he bit down hard on the side of Siwoo’s neck.

“Ah, that hurts.”

“You bastard…”

Unable to hide his frustration any longer, Yeonho spat the words, and Siwoo hugged him tighter than ever. As he lifted Yeonho’s limp body into his arms, he scanned the room carefully.

Now that he had a reason to stay close to Yeonho, it was time to find that phone.

If Yeonho had gone so far as to send the phone to his mother, he must’ve had a very compelling reason. There had to be something in it, something he couldn’t risk anyone else knowing.

Siwoo could only hope that inside that phone was the undeniable truth, proof so clear that Yeonho would no longer be able to push him away with lies.

He was ready to bet everything on that.