RB - 30

Chapter 30: Dissolve Me Into Your Ocean, Oh Salt of Salvation

If there was a God, then surely He had orchestrated this. Everything was part of His divine plan.

Jin-hyuk, an atheist, found his own hypocrisy amusing—searching for God in moments like these. But given how he felt now, could he really blame himself for wanting to thank someone? He had finally taken one step closer into her heart.

Seo-yeon, head bowed, spoke in a voice thick with emotion:

“I was so curious... whether that boy who never told me his name ended up living well.”

Jin-hyuk buried his face against Seo-yeon’s shoulder, breathing deeply as if trying to memorize her scent. The salty breeze carried the ocean’s essence, mingling with Seo-yeon’s labored breaths, which echoed like whispers in Jin-hyuk’s ears. For a long while, they stood silently embracing each other before finally meeting each other’s eyes. Jin-hyuk couldn’t shake the feeling that their reunion had been predestined by fate.

If Seo-yeon was the deep sea, Jin-hyuk wanted to become the salt dissolved within it. If he could sink into her depths and dissolve into oblivion, he would gladly bear any punishment for his sins.

Though invisible, salt permeates every droplet of the ocean. That’s what Jin-hyuk wanted—to seep into Seo-yeon’s core, to dissolve completely into her. He knew eternal pleasure and comfort awaited him there.

That night, after encountering the past entwined with Jin-hyuk, 

Seo-yeon dreamed of a white rabbit. Beside the rabbit stood a crying boy—who grew into the adult Jin-hyuk.

“Miss Han, I don’t want to kill the rabbit. Please save me.”

For the childlike Jin-hyuk, Seo-yeon mustered all her strength to lift him. Though his body felt as heavy as waterlogged cotton, she consoled him throughout the nightmare. The dream ended abruptly when the doorbell rang at dawn—ding-dong.

“Who is it?”

Still groggy from sleep, dark circles under her eyes, Seo-yeon opened the door to find Kim Hyeon-ae standing there. With a square bandage near her lips, Hyeon-ae’s face glowed brighter than before.

“Miss Han, I’m sorry for coming so early. I heard Yuna was here, so I rushed over.”

“Don’t you need another day of hospitalization? Are you feeling okay?”

“The emergency treatment is done, so I’m fine. I was worried about my daughter...”

Though Seo-yeon herself was exhausted, swaying on her feet, Hyeon-ae didn’t look much better either. Knowing Hyeon-ae would face Myeong-soo if she returned home, Seo-yeon casually suggested she stay a few more days. Because she was Han Seo-yeon, such meddling came naturally to her.

As their conversation stretched on, click, the door opened, and Yuna dashed out. Seeing her mother, the girl ran to her as though reuniting with a long-lost family member. Hyeon-ae stroked her daughter’s hair and promised:

“Mommy’s all better now, Yuna. We’ll live happily ever after. Don’t worry.”

Yuna hugged her mother tightly and tilted her head back to ask:

“Really? Just the two of us? Can you do it, Mom?”

Looking at her daughter’s hopeful expression, Hyeon-ae felt a sharp pang of guilt. Yuna, her precious daughter conceived with ten months of prayerful devotion—her only flesh and blood. She was deeply ashamed of having exposed her child to domestic violence. What lingering affection did she have for Myeong-soo that she allowed her precious daughter to live in fear? Did she even deserve to be called a mother?

“Yuna, Mom will grow stronger. I’ll protect you forever, truly. I’ll go back to working at the salon too.”

Witnessing this historic moment of mother and daughter vowing a fresh start, Seo-yeon instinctively thought about her own bloodline. 

Could my mother, wherever she might be, have loved me like this? Was there some unavoidable reason she left me at the orphanage? Is she waiting for me to find her first?

Seo-yeon felt an overwhelming urge to cry like little Yuna. At that moment, the child’s small hand tugged at her sleeve.

“Thank you, Unnie. You saved my mom.”

With Hyeon-ae humbly expressing gratitude—”I’m sorry to impose, but let me stay a few days. I’ll repay your kindness someday”—the temporary cohabitation of the three women began. Seo-yeon declared, “Saturday nights are all about delivery food,” and opened a delivery app. Yuna chimed in, saying she wanted jjajangmyeon.

They say even brushing sleeves creates a connection—what kind of strange bond was this? Could she ever repay this debt of gratitude? As Hyeon-ae slurped a spoonful of spicy jjamppong broth and wiped away a smudge of black bean sauce from Yuna’s cheek, the three laughed nonstop watching Hello Jadoo on Netflix. They spent the quiet Saturday evening together, unaware of time passing until night fell. For Seo-yeon, it was a rare emotional reprieve.

“My bed is big; you and Yuna can take my room. I’ll sleep in my brother’s room—he’s in boarding school right now, so it’s empty.”

After repeatedly expressing gratitude and apologies, Hyeon-ae closed the door behind her and Yuna. After all, Yuna, a child of the new generation, went to bed promptly at 10 PM.

At 11 PM, a vague hour between sleep and wakefulness on a Saturday night, 

Ding-dong.

The doorbell rang. Seo-yeon doubted her ears and stepped into the living room. When no one responded inside, ding-dong, the bell rang again.

Who could be visiting at this hour? A chill of suspicion crossed Seo-yeon’s mind.

Once more, ding-dong, the piercing sound slicing through the silence heightened her alertness. Whoever was outside clearly intended to keep ringing until she opened the door.

Worried about waking Yuna and Hyeon-ae, Seo-yeon checked the intercom screen. To her disbelief, the face staring back belonged to Manager Kim from the finance team.

Ding-dong ding-dong, the bell rang twice in quick succession. Acting as brazenly as a debt collector, Manager Kim pushed past her without invitation and entered the house. Then, as if he were a welcomed guest, he plopped down onto a dining chair. Technically, he tried to appear confident—but his slightly trembling legs and compulsive habit of rubbing his nose betrayed his guilt.

“Miss Han, we need to talk. I came because it’s urgent.”

Seo-yeon sat across from Manager Kim and absently ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek. It was clear their relationship had become strained, so she didn’t bother offering tea or coffee. Moreover, his unannounced intrusion in the middle of the night made him an unwelcome guest—so unpleasant that she felt like calling the police.

What worried her most was Kim Hyeon-ae sleeping in the next room. A catastrophic confrontation between the wife and the mistress had to be avoided at all costs, especially with young Yuna present in the house.

Seo-yeon considered throwing him out with a stern warning but held back, fearing raised voices might wake the others. Manager Kim’s burning gaze radiated such intensity it almost felt feverish. What on earth gave him the nerve?

“So, you see, Miss Han...”

A few meaningless exchanges followed. Talk about the erratic weather or predictions of good incentives for the quarter—trivial chatter mostly led by Manager Kim, while Seo-yeon mechanically nodded along.

After a tedious game of verbal sparring, Manager Kim finally raised the white flag. It was late, and it was time to get to the point.

Ko Myeong-soo, the cheating husband, had assured him he’d handle things, but Manager Kim had been agonizing all Saturday. No matter how much he thought about it, Han Seo-yeon wasn’t someone easily manipulated. Sure enough, she’d ignored every text he sent that day, driving his anxiety to its peak.

The premonition that “Han Seo-yeon knows about my affair” tightened around Manager Kim like a noose. He moistened his dry lips with his tongue and spoke with determination:

“Miss Han... well, the reason I’m here is...”

What will this woman say? Seo-yeon brushed her black hair back over her shoulder and leaned against the chair, waiting.

Would he beg for forgiveness through tears? Or stubbornly deny the affair? She mentally prepared responses for several scenarios but soon realized it was wasted effort.

True to her nature as a mistress, Manager Kim was bolder and more shameless than Seo-yeon imagined. With a stubborn expression, she spoke in a tone that sounded almost revolutionary:

“Miss Han, please try to understand and give me a break. I have a family, kids... I stand to lose a lot.”

Her blatant nonsense left Seo-yeon flustered.

“Manager Kim, your attitude seems a bit off. If someone didn’t know better, they’d think you’re here to collect a debt.”

Manager Kim met Seo-yeon’s sarcasm with a solemn face, but her words were as sordid as could be:

“It wasn’t like that with the HR manager from the start. But you know how it is—he has connections everywhere. Whenever there were conflicts with other departments, he helped smooth things out... Out of gratitude, we had dinner a few times, drinks a few times... and somehow, this happened. It was beyond our control.”

This revelation explained why Manager Kim had received favorable assignments during interdepartmental collaborations.

Since Seo-yeon wasn’t particularly interested in this sordid tale, her brow furrowed deeply. Listening to these dirty excuses for infidelity spread a wave of revulsion throughout her body.