SS - 71

Joo-Hyuk approached Sena and wrapped his arms around her neck from behind the rocking chair.

A fragrant scent wafted from her hair—hair he had washed and dried for her that morning. Though Sena had insisted she could manage on her own, Joo-Hyuk had stubbornly taken care of it, worried she might slip in the bathroom or feel dizzy.

“The sunlight feels strong. Should I lower the blinds?”

“No, it’s warm and nice like this.”

Sena shook her head as she replied.

“When is Chairman Choi’s trial?”

Suddenly remembering, she clapped her hands and asked.

“The day after tomorrow.”

“Are you going to attend?”

Joo-Hyuk gave a faint smile and shook his head.

“If I go, I’ll just be a spectacle for people to gawk at. And Father wouldn’t want me there either.”

“Have you talked to him?”

“Not yet.”

Just because he’d heard stories from his brothers didn’t mean he could immediately confront his father. He had no idea what to say—or even what to listen for.

“What sentence do you think he’ll receive?”

“According to my eldest brother, he’ll likely get a suspended sentence. The fines will be hefty, though.”

“A suspended sentence?”

Sena repeated, her expression showing she didn’t quite grasp the concept.

“It’s thanks to walking the fine line between legal and illegal—and also because of the many politicians involved. The prosecution will try to wrap it up at the Prosecutor General level.”

“It feels unfair, but since it’s about your father, I don’t know what to say.”

Her honest thoughts were written all over her face.

Of course, Joo-Hyuk wasn’t satisfied with the outcome either. He had anticipated something like this, but he still hoped society would deliver a clearer verdict.

“I’m sorry. Your feelings must be the most complicated.”

“It’s fine.”

Joo-Hyuk smiled as he answered, though deep down, he knew it wasn’t fine at all.

“The housekeeper made curry and left it for us. How about having curry for lunch today?”

“Curry sounds great. What soup do we have?”

“Let’s see… this week’s menu includes seaweed soup and beef broth. Which one should I prepare?”

“Beef broth would pair better with curry.”

She quickly changed the subject to hide her inner turmoil, and fortunately, Sena played along without noticing.

---

“I’m here to meet Senior Managing Director Han Gang-Un.”

Joo-Hyuk entered the JL Group’s executive office, ignoring the disapproving glances from the secretaries who clearly remembered him. After all, hadn’t he been dragged out of here months ago for assaulting Kang-Un? Not to mention the weeks of media coverage that followed.

“He’s waiting for you.”

One of the secretaries gestured toward the door, curiosity evident in her eyes about the relationship between Joo-Hyuk and her boss.

Without bothering to knock, Joo-Hyuk pushed the door open. Behind him, he heard someone clicking their tongue or muttering in irritation, but he paid no mind.

As expected, Kang-Un didn’t seem particularly bothered by the breach of etiquette. He glanced briefly at Joo-Hyuk before returning his focus to the putter in his hand. He was practicing on a long putting machine set up in front of his desk.

Joo-Hyuk watched him for a moment before sitting down on the sofa.

The putter swung back slightly, struck the golf ball, and sent it rolling smoothly into the hole at the end of the machine.

“Hoo…”

After exhaling a short sigh, Kang-Un walked over and took a seat across from Joo-Hyuk.

“I never expected you to resolve things this way. You’re smarter than I thought, Choi Joo-Hyuk.”

“Thanks for the compliment.”

Though their conversation seemed calm, the tension between their locked gazes was palpable.

“Why did you ask to meet me? Still holding a grudge?”

“For kidnapping and assaulting Sena, I should kill you where you stand.”

“Heh-heh…”

Kang-Un smirked, his lips curling into a sneer that said, “Go ahead and try if you dare.”

“I came to apologize.”

“…Apologize?”

Kang-Un’s face twisted in disbelief.

“I’m apologizing for what my father did to you. It was unforgivable.”

“…”

“For the selfishness of my father that forced you into such a choice, and for everything you’ve endured since then—I’m truly sorry.”

No excuses, no justifications. It was an honest apology for something irredeemable, something that couldn’t be forgiven no matter how it was framed.

For a long while, Kang-Un stared blankly at Joo-Hyuk.

“I’ll apologize as many times as you need. I’m really sorry.”

“Do you think saying ‘sorry’ fixes everything?”

“If there’s anything you want, tell me. What compensation would ease your pain?”

“Get on your knees.”

“What?”

“Kneel. If your precious self kneels before me, I’ll forget the past entirely.”

Joo-Hyuk studied Kang-Un for a moment, trying to gauge whether this was truly what he wanted, whether it was enough, and whether he was serious.

Kneeling? It wasn’t difficult.

Some might see kneeling as losing or abandoning pride, but Joo-Hyuk didn’t see it that way. There were times to hold onto pride and times to let it go. In a situation like this—apologizing for something so grave, something that had cost two lives and upended another person’s entire existence—he was prepared to kneel a hundred times over if necessary.

“Is that really all it takes?”

“What do you mean, ‘is that all it takes’?”

“If I kneel, will your anger disappear? Will it make no difference whether it’s my father or me you hate?”

“I don’t differentiate between you and your father. To me, you’re both selfish hypocrites pretending to be good people.”

“Alright, then. That’s fair.”

Joo-Hyuk slowly rose from the sofa and turned to face Kang-Un.

Kang-Un, still smirking bitterly, wiped the grin off his face as Joo-Hyuk began lowering himself onto one knee. When Joo-Hyuk prepared to bend the other knee as well, Kang-Un abruptly reached out his hand.

“Stop!”

Joo-Hyuk froze mid-motion, his posture awkward. Kang-Un glared at him, his face twisted in anguish and his ears flushed red.

“You bastard!”

Suddenly, Kang-Un grabbed Joo-Hyuk by the collar and yanked him to his feet.

“I told you to kneel! What’s the problem?”

“Why? Why are you kneeling? You shouldn’t be able to kneel like that! Why didn’t you say it was my parents’ fault for letting me die?!”

His bloodshot eyes brimmed with tears, and spittle flew from his mouth as he shouted.

“Why do you keep disappointing me until the very end?!”

“What expectations did you have of me?”

Joo-Hyuk asked calmly.

“What exactly were your expectations of me? What made you ruin yourself with this vengeance? How many people’s blood have you stained your hands with while climbing to the position of Senior Managing Director at JL Group?”

But as he spoke, Joo-Hyuk’s words overflowed with the questions and disappointment he had harbored toward Kang-Un—mingled with frustration over how Kang-Un had disappeared and ended up living this way.

The strength in Kang-Un’s grip on Joo-Hyuk’s collar gradually faded, and his hand dropped limply to his side.

“I hoped you’d convince your father. I thought you’d beg him, even just a little, to help my family.”

“I didn’t know. I had no idea about your parents’ situation until after they passed away! What about you? Did you know? Did you ever think to ask me for help?”

This time, it was Joo-Hyuk who grabbed Kang-Un by the collar and shook him.

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know my father’s company was in that situation until after your father passed. By the time I tried to contact you, everything was already over. My father and mother… they left me behind… they abandoned me alone…”

Kang-Un collapsed onto the sofa, cradling his face in his hands as sobs wracked his body.

After the storm of emotions subsided, only emptiness and regret remained.

Joo-Hyuk took a deep breath to steady himself and placed a hand on Kang-Un’s shoulder.

“I’m truly sorry. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you back then. I’m sorry we had to meet again like this. I’m… really, really sorry.”

Wiping away his tears with the back of his hand, Joo-Hyuk turned to leave.

His apology to Kang-Un was finished. He wouldn’t see him again. As for what happened with Sena, he decided to let it go, just as she had suggested.

“Choi Joo-Hyuk.”

Just as Joo-Hyuk grasped the doorknob to leave, Kang-Un called out to him.

“About your wife… I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

Joo-Hyuk exhaled a long sigh.

He hadn’t expected Kang-Un to apologize, and the unexpected words struck his heart painfully. But he didn’t respond.

This apology wasn’t his to accept, nor did he have the authority to forgive. Moreover, since he no longer owed Kang-Un anything emotionally, he didn’t want to forgive him for what he had done to Sena.

When he stepped outside, stern-faced men in suits blocked his path.

Having heard the shouting from inside, they likely assumed Joo-Hyuk and Kang-Un had fought and weren’t willing to let him leave until Kang-Un’s safety was confirmed.

The secretary who had opened the door earlier slipped back into the office and emerged moments later, pale-faced.

“P-Please be careful on your way out.”

The secretary bowed deeply to Joo-Hyuk. Finally, the men blocking his way slowly stepped aside, clearing a path for him.

---

“How’s your body holding up, Teacher Kang?”

At Joo-Ah’s question, Sena gave a faint smile.

She understood their concern as she had returned to work after resting following her miscarriage, but it had already been two months. She wished they would just let it go now.

“I’m fine. It’s already been two months. I even got my period last week.”

“Still, don’t push yourself too hard at work, okay?”

“Yes.”

“And don’t stress too much. The baby will come again someday.”

It’s when that happens that matters.

Instead of answering, Sena simply smiled and entered the counseling room. Sitting at her desk, she stared blankly out the window.

Summer was approaching; the temperature rose daily, and clothes grew lighter.

The feeling that everything was moving forward without her was utterly wretched.

She had thought she was okay, that she could overcome it, but her heart refused to follow her intentions.