49

With a hollowing pain in my stomach, I get out of the hospital bed. I'm merely here to rest at this point since there is no severe damage done to me, but my anxiety won't let me just lie here. The look on my mentor's face when he saw me was priceless, and not in a good way. He tried asking exactly what happened to me. I lied and said I was attacked on my walk home. He didn't push it, but it was embarrassing nonetheless to be his patient. He gave me the week off of volunteering, which I tried my best to refuse. Hansoo and Jaewook are off somewhere to talk, thinking I am asleep. I take this opportunity to change into my clothes and stroll around the emergency division. Someone on a stretcher squealing with sheer agony is wheeled past me, the bone of their elbow protruding from their skin. I should wince and look away, but instead, I'm hit with interest and the urge to help them. I'm not made to be a patient. Eventually, I find something I was hoping not to. Hansoo had talked to me about seeing a patient get wheeled in shortly after I admitted myself. He couldn't believe the similarity the man had to Jaewook. And he isn't stupid. I didn't say anything because the doctor told me to be silent, but Hansoo definitely knows that it was his father. And he was right. As I look into this room and read the patient information sheet, my nightmare becomes a reality. I hesitantly walk inside, making sure no one is around. All I can hear is my own loud breathing and the machines doing their job as I tip-toe inside. Looking at more of the papers lying around and the machines, I eventually find out that police found him unconscious from an unknown blow to the head. My heart crawls up my sore throat, making it that much harder to swallow. He's asleep, or in a coma, I'm not too sure. But either way, it's him. With facial features strikingly matching Jaewook's, bone structure and intricate details alike, there's no way anyone would deny their relativeness. Not knowing what I am doing, I take a seat by the bed, staring at my hands and wondering what the hell is going on. Where am I in my life? What is this heavy feeling of limbo, like things have changed but I don't know in what way? I want to go home and carry on as if nothing happened, but I can't, and I can feel that fact weighing on me like a pile of invisible bricks. When I finally look away from my cold hands, I jump in shock to see that uncanny face now looking at me with blank curiosity. I feel like a deer in headlights, as if I've been caught. The only reason I can think for this frozen reaction is the flashing image in my mind of his dark expression as he strangled me. But the expression on his face now is unlike the only one I've ever seen. "Who are you?" He softly asks. "I'm an intern," I say, despite that not making up for the reason why I'm sitting in a patient's room ungowned. "Intern? Where am I?" "The hospital." His eyes flicker away and focus on nothing as his mind gathers information. "My father, is he okay?" "Father?" My eyebrows cross. He must be suffering from post-traumatic amnesia because of the head injury. It's likely transient, as most traumatic amnesia cases are, but it seems to have made him forget a good chunk of time. "My father, he—it was my fault, I shouldn't have let him, I—" My heart races as I watch him break right in front of me. Tears flood his eyes within seconds, and the heart rate monitor shows his own increase in BPM. Worried the high rate will prompt a nurse, I focus on getting him to breathe slowly for a moment to slow down his heart rate. Eventually, the frantic beeping stops. "What happened to your father?" His memories will likely return bit by bit throughout the next couple of days, and while it's selfish of me to pry when he doesn't remember what recently happened, I feel this inherent need to figure things out. "He drove when he shouldn't have. He had a stroke—before," his words are scrambling as he retells this event as if it just happened. "Because of it, he was told not to drive for a while. I had to drive him around but I was getting frustrated. I had an important business meeting, s-so stupid—" "What happened Mr. Im?" "I fought with him on the phone, said I couldn't do everything for him anymore. So he drove himself and got into an accident. Is he alive? Please tell me he's okay." He clutches my arm with both of his hands, pleading with his eyes. What do I say? I know his father passed away last month, but I also know he was on life support years before that. Right now he has his perception of time messed up. "He's sleeping." It's not completely a lie. "Sleeping?" "Yes sir. Right now you should rest and get some more sleep too," I try to take his hands away and feign confidence. "My son, where is my son? He will be scared knowing we're both in the hospital." A shiver runs up my spine at these worried words. "Son?" I softly ask. "Jaewook, my boy, he's very close to his grandfather." Why did I come into this room, why am I here? I feel overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. Wanting to yell at this man for doing what he has to Jaewook, to his mom, to us. But also seeing this caring, concerned father crying in front of me. "He's okay." The relief is visible as he lets me go and falls back into the bed. Clear exhaust covers his eyes. "Get some sleep now." He barely replies as his damaged mind already succumbs to sleep. I carefully leave the room. I'm close to hyperventilating as I quickly walk back to my room when hands reach out and grab me. "Destiny, what are you doing?" Hansoo's worried eyes are wide and dark as they scold me. I've had enough of his scolding and unnecessary care. It's just making me feel bad. "Where's Jaewook?" "Noona." I turn around to see him and immediately feel better. I close the distance between us and hold onto him. "Why aren't you in bed sleeping?" Hansoo continues to pester. "I thought you told her she can't talk?" Jaewook a bit sternly replies. Hansoo throws his hands up, clear frustration covering his face. "Sorry that I care for God's sake. I can't do anything without someone getting pissed off. I'm done, I'm going home." "Hansoo, I'm sorry," I tell him. "Go home and rest, you're tired." He watches me, eyes slowly losing that fiery passion, before sighing. "I know, sorry. I'll see you guys later." With that, he drags his feet out of the building, looking like the very definition of sleep deprived. Jaewook's hands rub up and down my arms as he peers down at me. "Where do you want to go? Are you hungry?" "I don't know," I mumble,  suddenly feeling very overwhelmed. . . . I was highly skeptical when Jaewook lead me to his car—yeah that one he refused to accept from his mother so long ago, I guess he's swallowed his pride. He tried to reassure me and say he has his permit, but that just made me even more terrified. However, the boy impresses once again in proving he's good at everything—except math and English, of course. He takes us to a small noodle place we like. Throughout the whole meal, I can't help but mull over what his father said. I guess my unusual silence gets to Jaewook as he puts down his spoon. "What's on your mind? Please just talk to me instead of being silent." I contemplate whether I should really ask such out of the blue questions, but I can't help it. "Your grandfather, how did he end up in the hospital?" My doubts are confirmed by his stricken face. "What?" "You don't have to tell me, it's okay." "No, where did that come from?" "I just—I don't know. I have so many things going on in my mind right now." He pauses, and I almost think he's given up and fallen to silence when he speaks up. "He got into a car accident." So it was true. "You were thirteen, right?" "Yeah." I make sure to lower my voice before saying my next sentence. "When did your father start hitting? I think you told me once but I forget." The displeasure is evident on his face, but he thinks about it. "I think around the same time, or awhile after my grandfather's accident." "That's when he starting getting drunk right? He wasn't like that before." "No, I mean, he'd drink like any normal man would but I had never seen him drunk until then." His eyes move between both of mine as if trying to see through to my mind. "Noona, what are you thinking about now?" "Nothing, sorry." "No, tell me." His stern voice causes me to sigh and stop eating. "I think there's a reason why your father is like this, and I think he can get better." Jaewook's body language immediately closes off, shoulders caving in, head turned down. "You're doing it again, trying to read people and make assumptions about them." "I'm not making assumptions. Haven't you ever made the connection between the two events? It makes a hell of a lot of sense Jaewook. Did you father have a good relationship with your grandfather?" I flinch a bit when he looks back up at me, his eyes piercing and fuming, jaw clenching. "What does it matter. It doesn't excuse his behaviour Destiny, it doesn't fix the fact that he broke my mom, that he hurt you." "I know, I'm—" my apology is interrupted by Jaewook's phone ringing, which still lays in the pocket of the jacket Hansoo lent to me. "So that's where it was," Jaewook says to himself. "Hello?" I say into the phone, a bit alarmed by the caller ID which only said hyung. "Destiny? What the hell—where are you? Why is your phone at home? Destiny, where the hell are you." Oh God, here we go.