Unwanted Seoulmate AMBW

Fin 🫶🏿

Nevertheless, my colleagues were supportive and even commended me on some of my ideas. However, the topic of Hae-Ju's coma remained unspoken.

In the evening, as I sat in the hospital room, watching Hae-Ju as he lay in bed, the beeping of machines filled the room and the smell of antiseptic hung in the air. I brushed a strand of hair from his forehead and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Wake up soon, my love," I whispered.

Ju-won came into the room and I stepped aside, not wanting to interrupt the routine checkup.

"You're practically a patient here," he said as he listened to Hae-Ju's heart rate and checked his brain waves on the screen before him. Another nurse came in with a tray of medications and began administering them one by one, while another monitored his vital signs on a separate machine nearby.

"I might as well," I said with a sad gaze. Sitting there with Hae-Ju, I felt both at peace and deeply saddened—it was hard to accept that he may never wake up again.

"  You won't be forever." He said
seeetly before heading out.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, I said my goodbyes to Hae-Ju for the night and stepped out into the hallway outside his room. Taking a moment to myself, I prepped for the next day.

Meanwhile, at the company, the bright lights of the conference room illuminated the faces of my colleagues. They were gathered around the long, glossy table, listening intently as I presented my ideas.

After the meeting, I walked through the city streets, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling crowds. I passed street vendors selling spicy rice cakes and smiled at the children running around their parents' stalls.

It was an endless cycle that was begging to feel meaningful as it did meaningless.

Back at the hospital, I sat in the dimly lit room, holding Hae-Ju's hand. I talked to him about my day, telling him about the meetings and the people I met. I imagined him nodding along, his eyes bright with pride. Sometimes, I waited outside Hae-Ju's room with my mother. I watched as his mother spoke softly with him, gently stroking his face and wiping away tears from her own eyes.

As the days passed, one of the reporters at a hearing asked about the day of the accident, asked the chairman if he felt any sadness towards the state of his son, Hae-Ju being stuck in the hospital. The chairman didn't comment much other than, simply saying work was still needed to be done whether his son was breathing or not.

Hae-Ju's mother required the hospital to refuse the chairman from entering Hae-Ju's room. "Even if he was his father, he is not worth the title." In truth, when the chairman found out that his wife arrived in Korea after she had gone into hiding, he was even more shocked to see her walking on her own, and not strung up on the medication he used to have the hospital dose her with. He since then has been at a distance away from her whenever he had a chance.

At night, when the hospital was quiet and still, I would curl up next to Hae-ju, my head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It was a reminder that he was still alive, still fighting.

Yet, one night, as I lay beside him, I felt a flutter in his chest, a faint movement that sent my heart racing. My mind raced ahead of itself, with my tears to follow. Dramatically I wondered: Was he waking up? I held my breath, waiting for another sign.

And then it happened: A single tear rolled down his cheek and onto mine. His fingers twitched, and his eyelids fluttered open, revealing his deep brown eyes.

"Hae-ju!" I exclaimed, tears of joy streaming down my face. "You're awake!"I quickly lowered my voice, out of concern that I ruined his ears with my scream. His hair had grown, and his beautiful eyes, still a delicate gaze my way but, he was clearly tired.