Once Love Begins - Chapter 19. Part 3

Chapter 19. Part 3

I hugged my knees, feeling the dampness in the air like rain was on its way. The good mood I’d had from meeting my friends evaporated quickly. The urge to dive into the sea and swim endlessly washed over me. Maybe then, I could forget the loneliness of my current reality.

I hesitated to enter the house, the thought of seeing him again unsettling. He was someone I never expected to cross paths with again, and now the idea that he was just behind that door felt surreal. Once the inheritance was settled, I wouldn’t have to see him again. I stumbled slightly as I stood up.

Is he feeling any better?

The fact that I was even worrying about him annoyed me. Who am I to worry about him? I shook my head vigorously, trying to clear my thoughts. When I finally opened the door and stepped inside, the house was eerily quiet. I thought I had grown accustomed to the silence, but something felt off tonight.

Blaming it on the alcohol, I carefully removed my shoes and walked quietly. As I moved further into the house, I suddenly felt a pair of eyes on me. I looked straight ahead.

“You’re back?”

“Oh…”

I had assumed that by now, the housekeepers would have left and he would be asleep, but there he was, sitting on the sofa, our eyes meeting in the dim light.

“Did you drink?” he asked.

“…Yes,”

I replied, biting my lip as memories of the past flashed through my mind—how he used to tell me not to stay out late. His intense gaze made me fidget with the nape of my neck, suddenly felt self-conscious.

“You must be tired. Go upstairs and rest.”

“……”

“Why?” he asked when I hesitated.

“Are you feeling better?” I asked, finally voicing the concern that had been nagging at me.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, his expression softening, almost as if my concern had touched him. His reaction left me unsure of where to look.

“Then, I’ll go upstairs.”

I turned to head to the second floor, but his voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Yeonwoo.”

“Yes?” I responded, my heart skipping a beat.

“I’ll take you to Jeju tomorrow,” he said.

“…What?” I asked, caught off guard by his offer.

For a moment, I blinked, trying to fully grasp what he was saying.

“I’ll drive you to the airport. Is that alright?” he asked again.

“…I can go by myself,” I replied, still unsure why he was offering.

“I want to take you,” he insisted.

I found myself staring at him, his face still looking a bit worn from his illness. He stood there in front of the sofa, waiting for my response, and I noticed his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nervously. My gaze shifted to his left hand, which still awkwardly wore his watch. Something seemed off; his hand was trembling slightly. He must have noticed where I was looking because he quickly shoved his hand into his pocket and waited for an answer.

“Is that okay with you?” he asked, his tone unusually gentle.

The idea of Cha Kang-jae asking for permission was almost absurd. He was always the type to do things his way, so seeing him this way, soft and considerate, was unsettling. I struggled to find the right words as he took a step closer, and before I could think, I blurted out:

“Do whatever you want!”

I then dashed up the stairs, feeling a mix of confusion and irritation. How ridiculous. Since when did he start being nice to me?

I threw my bag haphazardly onto the bed and sank into the single chair in the room. Looking out the window, I saw that rain was pouring down heavily, obscuring everything from view. I walked over to the window and opened it, letting the mixed scent of wet earth and rain fill the room, a damp, slightly musty smell.

I stood there for a long time, watching the rain fall. I wished the next two months would pass quickly. It felt less like I was looking forward to my time in Jeju and more like I was running away from him, which left a lingering unease in my mind.

But it had to be better than staying here, right?

* * *

The winter sea offers a beauty beyond imagination. As I swam through the blue waters, the view before me opened up wide, and I felt a deep sense of relief. But then, I noticed that water was slowly seeping into my suit.

The winter sea, while stunning, can be brutally cold, with temperatures dropping as low as 14 degrees Celsius. Proper preparation is essential, especially in Jeju, where not only the temperature but also the wind can make it feel even colder. Fortunately, the dry suit helped maintain my body temperature, but the icy water still found its way in, reminding me of the harsh reality of winter diving.

A dry suit is designed to keep water out, with an inner layer to help maintain body temperature. However after multiple uses, the rubber can wear out, and it seemed the zipper on mine needed some attention. As the cold winter seawater seeped in, it felt almost painful against my skin. I had no choice but to cut the dive short and surface.

As I returned to the boat, I noticed a familiar figure in the distance.

Has it already been a week?

Every Saturday, he comes to Jeju. This marked the fourth week in a row.

“What brings you here this time?” I asked, a bit exasperated.

It had been a month of this routine.

Despite the chilly weather, he stood there in just a thin coat, waiting for me. As soon as I stepped out of the water, he draped a large towel over my shoulders like a blanket.

“You’ll catch a cold,” he said, the same concern he voiced every time.

It was always the same line.

“Is it because of the stamp?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“Just wait a moment,”

I said, heading back to my house near the sea. After a quick shower, I grabbed the stamp and made my way to the coffee shop across the street. When I arrived, I saw him sitting by the window, gazing out at the ocean.

I paused for a moment, watching him from a distance. He looked calm, almost serene. But when he slowly turned his head and noticed me, I quickly moved forward and sat down in the chair opposite him.

“If you need something stamped, just take the stamp with you. You don’t have to come down every week,” I said.

“You shouldn’t just hand over your stamp like that. Even to your husband, it’s not something to be careless about.”

“…”

“Got it?” he asked, his steady gaze meeting mine.

I nodded slightly, and he gave a lazy smile, his exhaustion evident. I looked away, turning my attention to the window and the sea beyond.

“How’s Kiwi doing?” I asked, changing the subject.

“…Yeah. He seems healthy,” he said after stamping the documents, then stood up.

“I’ll be going now.”

“…”

“Take care and don’t catch a cold,” he added, his voice gentle but tired.

I watched his back as he walked away, letting out a small sigh. He was just here for the stamp and nothing more. It would’ve been easier if he just took it with him.

His face showed the toll of exhaustion more and more with each visit. Every time I suggested he use the time to rest instead of coming to Jeju, he would simply shake his head.

“Why do I even care?”

I muttered to myself, staring at the steaming cup of coffee in front of me. As usual, there were two cups on the table, though one remained untouched. I wrapped my hands around my cup, letting the warmth chase away the lingering chill.

My eyes followed the steam as it dispersed into the air, and just as I was lost in thought, my phone rang from my pocket. Startled, I snapped back to reality and touched the screen to answer. A familiar voice greeted me.

“Hey, where are you?”

“Your song is going to be on the show today. The track will be released online after midnight,” the familiar voice said.

“Oh… I can’t believe it,” I replied, still in shock.

The thought of hearing my voice on a broadcast was surreal. I had never formally trained in singing, so the idea that a song I recorded would be released to the public was both exciting and nerve-wracking. My heart raced, and I couldn’t find the words to continue. Hearing my silence, the senior on the other end laughed softly.

“I’m coming back to Korea next week,” he said.

I froze, my hand hovering over the coffee cup. He had always said he wouldn’t return to Korea until after the presidential election because of his strained relationship with his father.

“I’ll stop by Jeju before heading to Seoul,” he added.

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s been a while, and there are some things I need to talk to you about.”

“Something to talk about? What is it?” I asked, curiosity piqued.

“I’ll tell you when I get there.”

“Next week? That’s perfect timing. Hana and Jae-ho said they’re coming too,” I said, feeling a bit of relief that I wouldn’t be alone when he arrived.

As I talked with my senior, time passed, and soon it was getting dark. As I got up to leave the café, my eyes fell on the untouched cup of coffee. On a whim, I picked it up and drank it in a few gulps. My senior had decided to come to Jeju when Hana and Jae-ho arrived, and the thought of them all visiting made me think about what kind of restaurant would please everyone.

Back home, I tidied up quickly and had dinner. I recalled my senior’s request for a good food recommendation and found myself debating where to take them all for a meal. With a cold can of beer in hand, I sat down on the sofa, the chill of the can almost numbing my fingers. Since finishing the call, I’d checked the time repeatedly.

I switched the TV to SBC, the channel airing the drama where my song was supposed to play. As the moments ticked by, my heart pounded faster. It had been so long since I felt this kind of excitement about something.

Beads of condensation formed on the beer can, and just before they dripped, I wiped them away with my palm. My face was flushed with anticipation, so I pressed the cool can to my cheek, letting it absorb the warmth.

There was still some time before the drama started, so I got up, beer in hand, and walked over to the window. The house was right on the ocean, with a perfect view of the ocean. The dark waves, churning as if they could swallow everything in their path, reminded me so much of his eyes – deep, intense, and full of hidden depths.

His dark, shadowed eyes always felt like an abyss—the more you struggled to escape, the deeper you sank. It was an unsettling feeling, one that made me uncomfortable. Unable to keep staring at the pitch-black sea, I turned away, letting out a deep sigh that seemed to fill the quiet house.