MHD - 62

Chapter 62: Please Save Me

Hee-soo typed out a long message, erased it, and repeated the process several times. Finally, she deleted everything and sent a short text instead.

“I saw the articles. Can we talk?”

If they did talk, where should she even begin?

Even after sending the message, Hee-soo stared at her phone screen, lost in thought.

Saying “thank you” felt insufficient given the magnitude of the damage Jae-hyuk might face. Offering to repay him was equally daunting—she couldn’t fathom what would be an appropriate way to compensate him.

“What could you possibly give me?”

Suddenly, she recalled Jae-hyuk’s biting response when she had once asked what he wanted. At the time, she hadn’t understood, but now it made sense—it wasn’t mockery or criticism. It was a question asking if she truly knew what he desired.

What Seo Hee-soo could offer Lee Jae-hyuk.

What Lee Jae-hyuk hoped to receive from Seo Hee-soo.

Could all this effort really be just to win her heart?

‘No, no.’

As soon as that conclusion surfaced, Hee-soo shook her head forcefully, trying to deny it.

A moment later, Jae-hyuk replied.

“If you’re curious, come see me. Yeonunam.”

Hee-soo held her phone tightly, staring at his message for a long while.

What would be the end of the conversation he wanted to have with her? She couldn’t help but wonder.

Reflecting on their last meeting, she feared Jae-hyuk might try to tie her down further by piling on more obligations—making it impossible for her to escape. Perhaps he intended to burden her with something so overwhelming that she’d have no choice but to remain tethered to him.

Letting out a long sigh, Hee-soo got up from her bed and walked straight to the living room. She pulled a book from the shelf, flipping through its pages until she found what she was looking for.

An old ultrasound photo was tucked inside.

This was likely the one thing Jae-hyuk would be most curious about—the missing piece that explained why their relationship had turned out this way.

It held clues to why she had pushed him away so desperately, why she had cut off contact for ten years. It was the final puzzle piece that could answer many of his questions.

Hee-soo carefully took out the worn ultrasound photo and read the short note she had written on the back—a somewhat awkward and unfamiliar letter to her unborn child.

“Baby, hello. This feels so strange. My name is Seo Hee-soo. I’m supposed to be your mom.”

Even just reading those words brought a sharp pang to her chest. Closing her eyes, Hee-soo steadied her breathing, trying to calm the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

Do I have the courage to bring this up? Am I ready to tell him this story?

Hesitating, she stared at the photo but ultimately couldn’t bring herself to make a decision. She slipped the photo back into its place.

Behind it lay a yellow sticky note. It was the same note she had found on her hospital bed the day after being admitted.

“…Ah.”

Hee-soo picked up the note, her hands trembling. The faded paper bore neatly written characters:

“Next is you.”

Even after all these years, the sight of it still sent chills down her spine. She vividly remembered how terrified she had been when she first discovered it, trembling uncontrollably.

She hadn’t forgotten—not for a single day. Someone had warned her: “Next is you.”

With shaking hands, Hee-soo carefully tucked the note back behind the ultrasound photo and closed the book hurriedly. Memories she had buried deep within her mind resurfaced vividly, refusing to stay hidden.

---

That night had been an ordinary one, like any other. After finishing her part-time job, Hee-soo was heading home late, just as she always did.

At twenty years old, Seo Hee-soo knew nothing about pregnancy. The only adult woman she could have asked was her aunt, her adoptive mother—but confessing her pregnancy to her was out of the question. She had no one to turn to for help.

If her mother found out the baby’s father was the third-generation heir of a chaebol, Hee-soo couldn’t predict how she’d react. Telling anyone else had to wait until after she spoke with Jae-hyuk.

Day after day, Hee-soo waited anxiously for Jae-hyuk to contact her, growing increasingly frightened by the changes in her body.

Some days, she felt like she had a serious illness. Other days, she feared something was wrong with the baby.

Fortunately, the maternity handbook from the obstetrics clinic provided brief descriptions of what to expect each week of pregnancy, giving her at least some basic knowledge.

Around two months into her pregnancy, morning sickness began, just as the handbook had described. Recently, she’d been feeling bloated, nauseous, and dizzy all day, as if seasick.

She desperately wanted to talk to Jae-hyuk, to overcome her fears together, but strangely, he hadn’t contacted her for weeks. Compared to how frequently he used to reach out before his leave, this silence was unusual.

Could it be that he had lost interest after sleeping with her?

Though doubts crept in, she reminded herself of the time they had shared—it hadn’t been fleeting. She clung to the belief that Jae-hyuk wasn’t the kind of person to abandon her like that.

Every weekend, Hee-soo kept her phone close, hoping for his call. She was terrified of missing it—if she did, she might have to wait months more.

‘Why isn’t he calling?’

Lost in thought, Hee-soo absentmindedly stepped off the bus after finishing her part-time job.

Her body was exhausted, her limbs heavy with fatigue. As she turned into the alley where her studio apartment was located, she failed to notice the car that had been following her.

Vroom.

Suddenly, headlights flashed behind her, and the sound of an engine roared to life. Instinctively, Hee-soo turned her head toward the noise, but it was already too late to avoid the vehicle charging straight at her.

A blinding white light flickered before her eyes as a dull, throbbing pain enveloped her entire body.

Screech.

Thrown to the ground by the impact, Hee-soo instinctively clutched her abdomen, which felt as though it were being torn apart.

“Ah... It hurts so much...”

Thud, thud.

Footsteps approached. A man stepped out of the car and stood over her.

“Lucky you. It would’ve been better if you’d gone without feeling any pain.”

His face was obscured, but the overpowering stench of alcohol hit her nostrils.

“P-please... help me. My stomach... it hurts so much...”

Hee-soo pleaded, clutching her belly, but the man turned away before she could get a clear look at his face and returned to the car.

The engine roared again, and with a vroom, the car sped off into the night. Hee-soo’s vision blurred, and she slipped into unconsciousness.

When she woke up, she was in the hospital.

The moment she regained consciousness, she instinctively knew. The baby was gone.

The bloating, the nausea—all signs of her pregnancy—had vanished as if they had never existed.

Staring blankly at her leg encased in a cast, Hee-soo suddenly noticed a yellow sticky note attached to the bedside table.

“Next is you.”

The moment she saw it, Hee-soo frantically looked around. Her hands and legs trembled uncontrollably.

Lee Jung-chul.

She was certain it was Lee Jung-chul who had orchestrated this. As the grief of losing her child overwhelmed her, so too did her rage toward the merciless perpetrator.

Though vengeance burned fiercely within her, there was little Hee-soo could do. The money she had saved from her part-time job was entirely spent on medical bills.

After being discharged, she pushed herself to attend auditions despite her fragile state, only to collapse again. At that point, she didn’t even have enough money for hospital fees, so she reluctantly accepted Cha Joo-won’s help.

And her suspicion that Lee Jung-chul was behind this soon solidified into certainty.

After debuting in the entertainment industry and beginning to shoot commercials, Hee-soo noticed Kangrim Group subtly obstructing her career.

Even when CF offers came in, they were predictably rejected, but what struck her was that none of Kangrim’s subsidiaries extended any offers at all.

As the era’s top actress, she should have naturally received offers for Kangrim Electronics’ phone or home appliance advertisements, yet all those opportunities went to her rival actress, who was competing for dominance in the industry.

Whenever Hee-soo appeared in a drama, Kangrim’s full support went to another drama airing in the same time slot. Any movie she starred in was excluded from product placement deals with Kangrim Group.

If she was cast in a project Kangrim sponsored, her casting was inevitably canceled.

These incidents were impossible to pinpoint with concrete evidence, but Hee-soo’s instincts told her everything.

Whether it was Lee Jung-chul or Yoon Ji-sun...

Someone in that family, now leading the group, was indirectly warning her to stay away from their son through persistent sabotage of her career.

The more they interfered, the more Hee-soo burned with determination. She poured her entire being into acting.

It was fueled by one thing alone: revenge. She wanted to show them that despite their efforts to hinder her, she would thrive and succeed.

Work. And more work.

Without rest, she worked tirelessly, alternating between films and dramas, leaving no room to breathe. She often imagined how Lee Jung-chul would feel watching her success on TV.

There were days when she missed Jae-hyuk so desperately it felt like madness. And with that longing came an equal surge of vengeance.

As time passed and the days of not seeing Jae-hyuk accumulated, that thirst for revenge grew into a powerful force sustaining her.

Then, one day...

Breaking News ─ Lee Jung-chul, Chairman of Kangrim Group, Passes Away

Hee-soo saw the obituary of Lee Jung-chul on the news.

Her revenge hadn’t even begun, and yet the object of her vengeance had departed this world far too peacefully.

From that day onward...

Standing in front of the camera felt suffocating, as if someone were tightening a noose around her neck.

There were moments when she stared blankly, unable to follow the director’s instructions or respond to her co-stars’ lines. She felt as though she had lost her purpose, unsure why she was acting or what she was striving for.

Occasionally, a sharp pain would grip her chest so tightly she could barely breathe. At first, the pain came intermittently, but over time, it grew more frequent, eventually causing her to collapse on set.

In the end, Hee-soo had to withdraw from the production midway.

The reason? Severe panic disorder.