“Ji-woo, hold still.”
“Hm?” She felt as if she were floating on a cloud. Ji-woo nuzzled against the warm surface beneath her, pressing her cheek into Seo Tae-joon’s back.
“Ji-woo,” a familiar voice murmured beside her ear. “You don’t like it when I drink?”
Lost in an alcoholic haze, Ji-woo broke into a childish grin, completely unaware that Seo Tae-joon was carrying her on his back.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“…If you drink, I’m afraid you’ll remember everything.”
Seo Tae-joon stopped walking. The faint, easy smile vanished from his face.
The trope of the violent drunk was a depressingly common one. He hadn’t forgotten the old, faded scars he’d seen on Ji-woo’s body. A shadow passed over his features as the miserable thought took root.
Just as Seo Tae-joon started walking again, trying to shake off the creeping shame, Ji-woo murmured something else.
“You know… this relationship isn’t normal. The more I think about it, the crazier it seems. I must have lost my mind back then. I never should have agreed to it…”
Each word was another twist of a knife in his gut. This was the truth he had always wanted to hear, her innermost thoughts. But there was no satisfaction in it, only a heavy, suffocating weight in his chest.
So this was the wretched truth of it. Ji-woo regretted their marriage.
“Did you ever want to run away?”
“…I’ve thought about it, but I couldn’t. Even when I want to, I can’t. I’ve been like that since I was a child.”
“Did you ever try?”
“Of course. I even went to the police station once.”
Seo Tae-joon’s features twisted. The police station? Assuming the absolute worst, he clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached.
Seo Tae-joon, you bastard. He cursed the man he used to be, the stranger whose sins were now his own. In his mind, he dragged that version of himself into the dirt, trampling the memory until there was nothing left.
“I just… I want it all to be over one day,” she mumbled, her voice faint and devoid of hope, heavy with the weight of resignation.
“Ji-woo… were you scared of me?”
“…Yes.”
“Did you want to live without me?”
“…Yes,” the drowsy voice confirmed.
I lost my memories, but I left her alone with all the painful ones I created. Why am I still so selfish?
“Did I ever physically hurt you?”
“Yes.”
The immediate, unhesitating answer sent a chill through him, and his entire body went rigid. A tremor of rage shook him—not at her, but at himself. His doubts had just crystallized into certainty.
“Often?”
“I think you were like that with everyone, not just me.”
Seo Tae-joon shut his eyes, trying to smother the fury. His breath caught in his throat.
But then—
What if this is an opportunity? A second chance to make up for everything?
Instead of drowning in a past he couldn’t touch, he began to think about what he had to do to change their future. He tightened his grip on Ji-woo, as if afraid she might slip away.
“Why didn’t you just let me die? You should have spat on me and run while I was in that coma,” Seo Tae-joon said, his voice laced with self-derision.
He realized what a terrible burden he must have been. If she had thrown him away, she could have had a happy life. A woman as young and capable as her—there would have been no shortage of men.
But Seo Tae-joon without Ji-woo… I would never have woken up.
In other words, a normal life was impossible for him without her.
He needed her. He couldn’t just stand by and watch her leave. He would compensate her for every hardship, every moment of pain. He would make her choose him, make her return to him of her own free will. He would prove to her that the safest, most comfortable place in the world was right by his side.
“No one would have blamed you if you’d run away back then,” Seo Tae-joon said quietly, his eyes dark with thought.
“…But there was a promise between us.”
He stilled, surprised into silence, and listened intently.
“It was a promise. An obligation I couldn’t break. It’s why they tell you to think twice before signing a contract… I regret it, but… even if I could go back, I think I’d still have signed.”
“…”
“Back then, it was the only way.”
Seo Tae-joon couldn’t speak, a lump forming in his throat. He never imagined she would speak of a “promise”—something that sounded far more binding than a simple marriage vow—especially after he had treated her so badly.
A promise she valued more than her own safety. A powerful sense of belonging washed over him, anchoring him. His life no longer felt so empty, so precarious. Bit by bit, Ji-woo was filling the void.
“Ji-woo, do you like me?”
She didn’t respond. He gave her a gentle shake, but she remained limp against his back.
They were nearly at the house when her answer finally came. A small hand drifted up to touch the side of his neck.
“…Don’t. Don’t ask me that.”
If this truly is a second chance…
Then God is on my side.
A cold smile touched his lips. He would not waste it.