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The rainstorm that had engulfed Seoul was described as one of the worst in decades. Mourners entering the funeral hall shook their umbrellas and brushed off the water clinging to their clothes. Along the corridor, condolence wreaths stretched endlessly.
“How deeply you must be grieving.”
“There’s no way to fully understand your pain.”
Inside the funeral hall, a sea of mourners swarmed to pay their respects to the bereaved family. Relatives, acquaintances, and prominent figures from politics and business alike were present, all eager to make an appearance at this rare occasion—the funeral of the eldest son of Taesung Group. It was only natural for such a high-profile event to draw attention.
“Baek’s loss must weigh heavily on you.”
“Yes. Thank you for coming despite the distance.”
“Of course I had to come. This is Ji-hyuk’s final journey.”
An elderly relative consoled Soo-hyuk, the younger brother, patting his shoulder. In response, Soo-hyuk clasped both hands together and bowed deeply.
“Where is Ji-hyuk’s wife?”
“She’s resting for a moment. The shock has been overwhelming.”
“That’s understandable. To lose him so soon after marriage—it’s unthinkable.”
“...”
“Look at them, sneaking glances over there. They’re all wondering what’s become of Ji-hyuk’s wife, Sa-hee. Tsk, tsk.”
True to his words, people inside the funeral hall stole occasional glances toward the main mourning area. Soo-hyuk could feel their curiosity directed not at him, but at Sa-hee.
“If she comes out, please pass along my condolences. Tell her to take care of herself.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll relay your message.”
“Hmph, these wandering eyes...”
Even after the elderly man left, leaning on his cane, the stream of mourners continued. Soo-hyuk did his best to greet them warmly, ensuring Sa-hee wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.
Meanwhile, Sa-hee sat alone in an empty lounge where the bereaved family had briefly retreated. On the table before her, her phone displayed a single message:
[Happy Birthday. Look forward to your gift.]
It was from Ji-hyuk, sent automatically as a scheduled message.
“...”
The sight of her late husband’s birthday greeting on the day he died filled her with an indescribable sorrow. Sa-hee bit her dry lips, unable to speak.
“What’s wrong? Did it burst?”
Soo-hyuk appeared beside her, offering a tissue. Only then did Sa-hee realize her bitten lip had split open, bleeding slightly.
“I’m fine.”
“Fine? Do you even know how terrible you look right now?”
Soo-hyuk stopped mid-scolding when he saw her hollow gaze lift toward him. Her lifeless eyes made her appear utterly broken.
After wiping her lips with the tissue, Sa-hee returned to staring blankly at the wall.
“Why don’t you step outside for some fresh air?”
Soo-hyuk extended his hand. After a pause, Sa-hee slowly nodded.
“I’ll go get some air, then.”
Their hands met, and Soo-hyuk helped her stand. Her frail body swayed like a paper doll.
“Don’t worry about anything. Take your time.”
Sa-hee nodded again and stepped out of the lounge, heading toward the entrance. Watching her move like a floating ghost, a few mourners whispered among themselves.
As she exited, the long line of condolence wreaths caught her eye. Passing by them, memories of the wedding just four months ago flooded back—the beautiful flowers lining the aisle, the petals scattered by guests, the well-wishes for a lifetime of happiness. Yet Ji-hyuk had already trampled those blossoms and departed for another world.
Though she’d left the lounge to ease Soo-hyuk’s concerns, she didn’t know where to go next. The regular lounges were packed with mourners, and torrential rain poured outside. Eventually, Sa-hee sought refuge in the nearest restroom.
“...Honestly, if I were her, I’d be too ashamed to show my face. Everyone’s thinking she somehow caused her husband’s death. How can she sit there looking so calm?”
“Right? Even I’d feel too embarrassed to lift my head.”
“My mom said it’s all about money in the end.”
“Money?”
“Yeah. Even though her husband’s gone, she’ll still get her share of the inheritance.”
“You think she’s thinking about money right now?”
“You don’t get it. At the end of the day, everything’s about money or business. Just wait—you’ll see headlines soon about how much she’s taken from the estate.”
Locked in a stall, Sa-hee silently listened to their conversation. She’d anticipated some judgment, but not this level of callousness. The absurdity of it all left her numb, laughter stuck somewhere deep within.
“Isn’t Taesung Group’s second son still single?”
“So what? What are you going to do about it?”
“What do you mean, ‘so what’? You should go for it! Who says I can’t become part of the Taesung family? If that woman could turn into Cinderella, imagine what I could achieve!”
“Do whatever you want, then.”
The women laughed and bickered before finally leaving. Alone again, Sa-hee sank deeper into shame, trapped in the narrow confines of the stall.
Later, whispers among passersby revolved around predictable topics—whether Ji-hyuk and Sa-hee had registered their marriage, how the inheritance would be divided, and so on. Occasionally, someone expressed pity for the young widow left behind after just four months of marriage, but it was always shallow sympathy.
Unable to endure any longer, Sa-hee stepped outside. The heavy downpour showed no signs of letting up.
Drip, drop, drip. Ignoring the sound of rain hitting umbrellas, Sa-hee walked out into the storm, uncaring that her mourning dress was soaking wet. Staying indoors felt suffocating, as though she might suffocate or wither away entirely.
A small park surrounded the large funeral building, its winding paths forming a maze-like network. Sa-hee began walking slowly along them, lost in thought.
After walking for a while:
“Sa-hee.”
She turned sharply at the sound of her name. But only the relentless rain filled the air—no one was there.
“...”
It sounded exactly like Ji-hyuk’s voice. Was her longing so intense that she was hallucinating now? Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling uncontrollably down her cheeks after just a few more steps.
She still couldn’t believe it. Was he really gone forever? No matter how many times she called, he wouldn’t answer. Waiting for him felt futile, yet terrifying.
When she had seen his lifeless face beneath the white cloth, she regretted not kissing him one last time. She wished she had stayed longer in his cold embrace.
“Ji-hyuk...”
Summoning all her strength, she whispered his name. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to see him—to say goodbye properly, to touch him and hold him once more. Anything, if only she could have that chance.
CRACK, BOOM—
Suddenly, the rain intensified, accompanied by distant thunder.
“Oh, I’m sorry!”
“I’m so sorry!”
Lost in thought, Sa-hee hadn’t noticed someone approaching until they collided. Her umbrella fell, drenching her completely. As she bent to pick it up, the other person beat her to it.
“Here’s your umbrella.”
“Thank you.”
“Oh dear, you’re soaked. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. You can go.”
Taking the umbrella, Sa-hee pushed her wet hair back and wiped her face with the back of her hand. Yet, the stranger lingered, staring intently at her.
“Why are you still here?”
“Why? Because I feel bad, of course.”
“I’m really fi—”
“And besides, you called me earlier, didn’t you?”
“What?”
“You want to meet ‘that person’ again, don’t you?”
‘That person.’ Sa-hee immediately understood whom he referred to. There was only one person she longed to see.
Shin Ji-hyuk. Her husband.
“I made you like this, so I’d like to offer some help. What do you think?”
The man gestured up and down her body with his index finger, smiling unsettlingly. Sa-hee took a step back, gripping the umbrella tightly.
“No, thank you. I’ll be on my way.”
Lost in thought, she realized she had wandered far from the funeral building. With no one else around, she felt uneasy and began retracing her steps.
“If you leave now, you’ll regret it.”
“...”
“I can grant your wish!”
“...”
“I can let you see your husband again!”
What?
At his final words, Sa-hee turned around sharply. But behind her, there was no one.
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