Once Love Begins - Chapter 17. Part 3

Chapter 17. Part 3

* * *

“Sigh…”

I woke up in bed, staring up at the blank ceiling. My eyes blinked slowly as I adjusted to the silence of the room.

Ha Yeonwoo left Korea a few days ago.

The overwhelming sense of loss brought tears streaming down my face. I had known she was heading to the airport and tried to block her car, but I never got the chance to see her. The last time I saw her was a month ago in the hospital corridor.

She boarded a private jet and was out of my reach. Even if it hadn’t been a private jet, the security around her was so tight that it would have been impossible to meet her anyway.

Under strict protection, she left, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find out where she had gone. I knew that Chairman Ha had taken every measure to ensure that I would never find her.

A sigh escaped my lips as the thin stream of tears grew into heavy droplets. I covered my eyes with my arm, and my shoulders began to shake uncontrollably.

I hadn’t even had the chance to say goodbye.

…And now that I think about it, I never saw her smile. Yeonwoo used to smile quite often when we were younger. It wasn’t until now, after she had left, that I realized her smile had faded after we got married. The realization broke me completely.

Each passing day felt like it was draining the life out of me. I hadn’t realized just how empty and cold this house could be until now. Every time I stayed out late, busy with work, leaving Yeonwoo alone in this vast, empty home, what must she have felt? The thought of it was driving me mad.

I couldn’t forgive myself for what I had done. The guilt was so overwhelming that I wished I could just end it all.

If only I had realized my feelings for her a little sooner—if I had acknowledged them. Then maybe we wouldn’t have lost the baby, and she wouldn’t have left. We could have been happy together. Her voice echoed in my mind, softly murmuring about how much she craved peaches.

I couldn’t breathe. Desperate for relief, I staggered into the kitchen, grabbed the strongest bottle of liquor I could find, and drank deeply. The burning in my throat was nothing compared to the pain in my heart. I had never felt pain like this before, and I had no idea how to deal with it.

“Yeonwoo… Ha, Yeonwoo…”

I choked out her name, my voice breaking as the unswallowed alcohol mixed with my tears and dripped down my chin.

I couldn’t forgive myself. I had destroyed everything that mattered, and there was no going back.

* * *

**1 year later.**

The loud noise forced my eyes open, though they resisted.

“Are you okay, sir?” someone asked as they shook me gently.

…Did I fail again? I stared blankly at the painfully bright white ceiling. It seemed like another failure.

It looked like throwing myself into the sea wasn’t the solution either.

How many times had I failed by now? I let out a bitter laugh.

“Still alive, huh? Sigh.”

I wished I could have died. But no, I couldn’t even manage that—a useless, pathetic excuse for a man. I raised my left hand, revealing the scars on my wrist.

“You wretched fool!”

The voice belonged to Chairman Ha, who stormed into the room with anger. I had no strength left to move, but I forced myself to sit up.

“Grandfather…,”

I mumbled weakly, knowing there was no point in trying to defend my actions. The disappointment in his eyes only made the weight of my failures press down on me harder.

“Are you doing this to make Yeonwoo feel guilty? How many times has it been now?”

Hearing the strain in Chairman Ha’s voice, weakened by his declining health over the past year, made my heart ache. The thought that I might be doing this to burden her with guilt – no, that was never my intention.

I just didn’t want to live anymore.

My left hand trembled uncontrollably, and under his sharp gaze, I quickly hid it behind my back.

“Useless fool.”

I had lived in regret. Every day, I wished I could turn back time—to before the wedding, where I could have refused the marriage, or after, where I could have done everything in my power to keep her smile alive by loving her properly.

In my mind, I often imagined scenarios where I made her happy, where I saw her smile again. But every time I woke up, I would cry because I couldn’t even remember her face in my dreams.

If we had never married, would you still have that smile? Would you still be happy?

These thoughts haunted me day and night, the relentless cycle of regret and sorrow suffocating any chance of peace.

It was all my fault. The memory of her lifeless eyes after we lost the baby haunted me, making it impossible to even swallow food. Every day, every moment, every hour was filled with regret and pain. When the longing for her became too much, when the weight of my guilt became unbearable, I would try to end it all without hesitation.

But even dying wasn’t easy.

“Live,”

Chairman Ha commanded.

“…”

I stared at him with hollow, empty eyes.

“Live. Live and protect Yeonwoo.”

“…”

My pitch-black eyes wavered with uncertainty.

“I won’t live forever. When I’m gone, there will be those who will try to bring Yeonwoo down. You must protect her with your life. That is your reason to live.”

A small cry escaped my lips as I finally understood the gravity of his words.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,”

I choked out, tears streaming down my face.

I had known that his health was failing, but the way he spoke, asking me to take care of her, made me realize that his condition was far worse than I had imagined. The weight of his words settled heavily on my shoulders, a burden that felt both like punishment and salvation.

He was entrusting me with the one person who had meant everything to him, and for that, I would have to find the strength to live.

I knew Chairman Ha had every reason to hate me for hurting his only granddaughter, yet he sincerely entrusted Yeonwoo’s well-being to me.

After he left, I stood by the hospital window for a long time, lost in thought. So many times I had run after her when I heard she had been found, only to arrive and find that she had left again.

“Hello?”

“…Stop looking for her for now.”

“What? Are you sure?”

The person on the other end of the line, clearly surprised, repeated the question.

“Stop searching for Ha Yeonwoo.”

“…Alright, I understand.”

I ended the call and shifted my gaze out the window. It was around this time of year that she had left. The overwhelming feeling of sinking deeper into despair filled me as I took a deep breath.

I had to protect her.

She would be alone in this world, and it was my responsibility to ensure her safety. This time, I had to get it right. This time, I had to protect her happiness—no matter what it took.

After parting ways with her, I quickly stepped down from the company. Since then, I hadn’t done anything—not even seen my parents in so long that I couldn’t remember the last time.

At first, my mother would call occasionally, but even that stopped a while ago.

My left hand, the one holding my phone, began to tremble—a side effect that sometimes occurred after I had cut my wrist. Ignoring the shaking, I tapped the screen to make a call.

“Yes,” came the familiar voice.

“Father, I need to see you. There’s something I need to talk about.”

It had been almost a year since I last spoke to him, but he didn’t seem surprised.

“Come to the office.”

“Yes.”

I ran a hand over my rough, unshaven face, feeling the stubble scratch against my palm. I headed to the bathroom to shave and clean up. Now that I had a clear goal, I needed to act on it immediately.

* * *

Standing in front of the mirror, I watched as the razor cleaned away the neglected beard, revealing a face that had been worn by regret and despair. But beneath it all, there was a new resolve, a determination that had been missing for too long. I was ready to do whatever it took to make things right.

“Senior!”

“It’s been a while,”

I greeted, waving back with a bright smile at Joochan, who was sitting at an outdoor table. He looked much more relaxed than he ever had back in Korea.

“How have you been?”

“I’m good,”

I replied as I took a seat across from him. His face, always so warm and friendly, hadn’t changed a bit.

“And how are Subak and Sueom?”

“They’re at home. There was no way I could bring those rascals out here.”

I laughed, nodding knowingly. I remembered how mischievous they could be.

“I miss them,”

I said, thinking back to the last time I had seen them, a year ago. Since Joochan had settled in New York, we had kept in touch regularly. There was a shared sense of understanding between us, both living far from home. We’d made a habit of checking in with each other at least once a week.

The gentle spring breeze played with my hair, tickling my face and adding to the fresh, uplifting atmosphere. I swept my hair back, enjoying the moment.

“It’s been a year,” Joochan remarked.

“Yeah,”

I replied, meeting his gaze.

“How have you been, Senior? Although, with how often we talk, it feels like we just saw each other yesterday.”

He laughed at that, and I couldn’t help but smile back. Being around him felt comfortable, like a slice of home. He never asked the questions others might—why I left Korea, why I was wandering the world as if searching for something, why I couldn’t seem to settle.

It had been over a year since I left Korea. I had traveled all over the world, learning how to scuba dive and exploring new places. When Joochan suggested I drop by New York, I decided to take him up on the offer, even if just for a short visit.

“Coffee?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” I nodded.

As he ordered the coffee, I turned my head, resting my chin on my hand, and watched the people passing by. Back in Korea, I hardly ever had time for moments like this.

One of the best things about traveling was the sense of freedom it gave me. I didn’t have to feel anxious or rushed, and the pressure to achieve something had faded away.

When the sun was high in the sky, I would often find myself still in bed, enjoying the luxury of not having to answer to anyone or rush through my day. It was a refreshing feeling, to live life on my terms.

As our coffee arrived, Joochan handed me a beautifully antique coffee cup that matched the quaint outdoor café perfectly. The coffee itself was surprisingly good, eliciting a small sound of appreciation from me.

“Oh, by the way, are you planning to go back to Korea anytime soon?”

I asked, suddenly remembering an article I had read about his father not too long ago.

“…Yeah, maybe after the presidential election,” he replied after a pause.

I knew that he didn’t have the best relationship with his father, and it was partly because of the path Joochan had chosen for his life.

“Though honestly, I wouldn’t mind staying here,” he added with a casual shrug.

Joochan was pursuing a music career, a choice that didn’t sit well with his father. While he spoke lightly about it, I noticed a slight tension in his expression, the way his eyebrows knit together for just a moment. It was clear that the subject was a sensitive one, but he wasn’t about to let it show.