Once Love Begins - Chapter 20. Part 2

Chapter 20. Part 2

He said nothing, waiting, his gaze locked on mine.

“I’m afraid of being hurt again,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper.

I forced the words out, even though my voice felt like it was breaking. He looked at me, his expression one of confusion, as if he didn’t fully understand.

“Afraid? Of what?” he asked.

“…Yes,” I nodded, trying to keep my eyes steady on his.

“I’m afraid that *she* will come back and hurt me again,” I said, my voice trembling.

As the realization of who I meant sank in, his face hardened.

“Yeonwoo…” he started, but I cut him off.

“And what if more women who like you come and try to hurt me? I’m scared.”

The memory of Hye-young, the woman who screamed that she would die if she couldn’t have him, flashed through my mind. I remembered the blood on my leg, and the fear of that moment, and a shiver ran down my spine. My shoulders tightened as if to protect myself from this unseen threat.

He must have noticed the fear in my body because he quickly reached out, grabbing my shoulders firmly but gently.

“You told me there was nothing between you two, but she said you were in a relationship with her,” I whispered, my voice shaky.

I could feel his hands tighten slightly on my shoulders as if trying to anchor me back to the present.

The painful memories of what I had gone through because of that woman flooded my mind, and I pressed my lips tightly together, trying to hold back the emotions.

“It wasn’t like that. It never was,” he said, his voice firm but gentle.

“I believed you when you said that,” I replied softly.

*But it hurt so much,* I thought to myself.

“I know it was my fault for not giving you enough trust… but it wasn’t true. I never had anyone else besides you.”

“…She told me you were together. She even said you were in the shower when she answered the phone.”

The memory of hearing her voice over the phone, claiming to be his girlfriend, felt like a knife twisting in my chest all over again.

At first, I had wanted to ask him, but I was too afraid of what the answer might be. Later, seeing them together all the time, I had come to accept what she said as the truth.

“Please, believe me,” he pleaded, his eyes filled with desperation.

His words made my head spin, and suddenly, the ground beneath me seemed to shift. Had I been wrong this entire time? All the hurt, all the doubt—had it been built on a misunderstanding?

My vision blurred, and I stumbled. He caught me and gently guided me to sit on the sofa. My mind was racing, trying to piece together everything I had believed up until now.

“It’s all just a misunderstanding?” I asked, my voice trembling as I tried to process his words.

“I am sorry. I caused this misunderstanding. Back then… I thought it would be wrong to hold on to someone as young as you, so I acted cold and distant on purpose.”

His voice was calm, but his face looked like it could break at any moment. The complexity of it all tangled up inside me like a jumble of threads.

“And what about her? What happened to that woman?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

“She’s in the hospital.”

“I see,” I replied, though the information didn’t bring any real sense of closure.

“…Her mental state is unstable. She goes in and out of consciousness,” he added as if trying to reassure me, but it didn’t soothe the ache in my heart.

I had replayed that day in my mind a thousand times. If only she had called 119, if I had gotten to the hospital sooner, maybe… maybe I wouldn’t have lost the baby.

If she hadn’t come to the house if she hadn’t pushed me, if my head hadn’t hit that wall…

Regret after regret, I had gone over it endlessly. But no matter how many times I revisited these thoughts, the blame always came back to me. I was the fool who didn’t even know I was pregnant.

When I heard that she wasn’t in her right mind, I felt nothing close to pity. Maybe I wasn’t a good person. In TV shows and books, people eventually forgive, but I knew I could never forgive her. My mouth tasted bitter with resentment.

The thought of the baby—innocent, unaware, and gone far too soon—made my nose sting as tears welled up.

“I couldn’t protect them…” His voice broke as he hung his head low, his hands clenched tightly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his shoulders shaking as he started to cry.

Seeing him like that, my tears began to fall. No matter how hard I tried to hold them back, they spilled over, wetting my cheeks and dripping from my chin.

We both sat in silence, crying softly. His grief mirrored my own, and for the first time in a long time, the weight of our shared pain hung heavily between us. When the tears finally subsided, I realized it was time to say what had gone unsaid for too long.

“Even if it hadn’t been because of her, I never planned to keep living with you,” I said, my voice calm but firm.

His eyes darkened, becoming so intense that I felt like they could pull me in.

“At first it felt like a dream. Marrying the person I loved… it seemed perfect. But it wasn’t,”

I continued, my voice steady but filled with the weight of unspoken pain.

“As time went on, I realized how hard it was to be in love with my own husband. Every day I felt like I was living with the consequences of my choices. It was exhausting to realize what I’d done.”

“……”

“Does that even make sense? A wife hopelessly in love with her husband?”

I let out a bitter laugh, remembering how naive I had been. People struggle even in marriages built on mutual love and affection. But I had thrown myself into this, thinking it would work, without considering the reality. How foolish I had been.

“Yeonwoo, I—”

“I was hurt from the honeymoon,” I cut him off, my voice firm, letting the words spill out.

His lips tightened, and I could see the tension in his jaw. He bit his lip hard as if to stop himself from speaking. My words were cutting into him, but I was determined to say everything now.

“The honeymoon?” he repeated, his voice hoarse, barely able to get the words out. It seemed like his throat had tightened, preventing him from continuing.

“Yes. You don’t remember, but that night… we did,”

I mouthed, unable to force the words out loud. My lips trembled as the memory resurfaced. His steady gaze faltered, his eyes widening in shock.

“…No way,” he whispered, his face paling.

“It’s true,” I confirmed softly.

“…It wasn’t a dream?” He seemed to stop breathing, his face growing even paler.

“You thought it was just a dream?” I asked, watching the realization wash over him.

“I… I thought… all this time, I thought it was just a dream. That’s why I pushed you away even more.”

He rubbed his dry face with his hands, the weight of it all settling in.

He looked utterly devastated as if the ground had shifted beneath him.

“I felt like garbage for desiring someone as young as you, so I pushed you away on purpose,” he admitted, struggling to breathe as he took a deep, shaky breath. His hands, covering his face, trembled, and his shoulders shook with suppressed emotion. I looked away, giving him a moment of privacy in his vulnerability.

“I’m sorry. Truly. But I know ‘sorry’ isn’t enough for the hurt you’ve gone through. How… what do I do? How can I fix this?”

His voice was thick with remorse, heavy with the weight of the years between us.

His words hit hard. The wounds were deep, and even though I had misunderstood some things, it didn’t change the fact that our marriage had never been happy. It wasn’t just because of that woman—it had always been broken.

For so long I thought it was all his fault. But now I realized that I was just as much to blame. I had been thinking only of myself. If I hadn’t been so afraid, if I had asked the hard questions instead of keeping quiet, maybe things would have been different. Maybe I wouldn’t have lost the baby. Maybe we wouldn’t have hurt each other so badly.

I wiped my tears with the back of my hand, feeling the heaviness in my chest slowly begin to lift, though the pain still lingered. We had both made mistakes, and it had cost us so much.

“Give me a chance to atone. I’m not asking to make things right, just to be by your side and protect you. Until you graduate, I’ll stay by your side,” he pleaded, his voice almost breaking.

“……”

“And after that, I’ll do whatever you want,” he added, his face looking like it was on the verge of collapse. He tugged at the collar of his T-shirt, clearly feeling suffocated, and then scratched his neck anxiously. Without thinking, I reached out and stopped him.

“Don’t scratch it,” I said softly.

“Oh,” he mumbled as if he didn’t even realize what he was doing. His nails had already left red marks on his neck, and I could see a faint trace of blood. I couldn’t bear to look anymore and turned away, but before I could take another step, he grabbed my wrist.

His hand trembled violently, and I felt the dampness of his sweat against my skin.

“Please, give me a chance. I’ll move out, I promise,” he begged, desperation dripping from his voice.

“…I’ll find a place near the university and move out myself,”

I responded quietly, feeling the weight of the situation.

He tightened his grip on my wrist.

“It was your grandfather’s wish… Please, let me honor that. You’ll finish school, right?”

“Yes… I’ll graduate,” I replied, agreeing at last.

He nodded repeatedly, expressing his gratitude over and over. The truth was, I should have been the one thanking him for giving me space and a chance to figure things out.

“…Thank you,” I whispered.

“I’m the one who should be thanking you. Truly, thank you,” he said, his pale face still etched with exhaustion.

His worn appearance tugged at my heart, and I couldn’t help but add,

“…No matter how busy you are, make sure you come home to sleep.”

“I will,” he promised.

“And make sure to eat properly.”

He nodded again, as if my concern had touched him deeply, and shook his head in an almost emotional way. When I gently twisted my wrist, he released his grip.

“…I’ll go upstairs. Get some rest,” I said.

“You too… get some rest,” he replied, pausing as if his throat was tight with emotion.

I gave a slight nod and headed up to the second floor. Having finally voiced everything that had weighed on my heart, I felt a sense of relief, but I still couldn’t help wondering if I had made the right choice.

I sat on the bed and let out a long sigh, still processing the fact that he had thought the incident during our honeymoon was just a dream. The image of him crying softly flashed through my mind and I shook my head, trying to erase the lingering memory.

*I have to focus on one thing at a time – the first thing is to go back to school and get my degree.*