A cold dread prickled over her skin. Ji-woo bit back a scream, her whole body trembling. “No, this can’t be,” she choked out. The truth was crashing down around her, but she refused to let it in. This wasn’t right.
Seo Tae-joon pressed a hand to his temple, his face a mask of pain. “What the hell?” he grumbled, his voice rough with confusion. He looked moments from collapsing, shaking his head as if trying to clear away a persistent fog.
“Just rest,” Ji-woo pleaded, her voice unsteady. “Calm down. You aren’t yourself. This isn’t you. It just… it can’t be.” She shoved her knuckles against her teeth, tasting the grime caked beneath her fingernails.
His face went pale as he turned towards her, mumbling something incoherent. “You…” he groaned, his eyelids fluttering. Ji-woo reached out, her hand hovering over his face as his consciousness finally gave way. He drifted for a moment, then sank completely into the darkness.
His knees buckled. He collapsed into her, a dead weight in her arms. She struggled to support him, guiding his fall so his head wouldn’t strike the rock-strewn ground.
“We’ll meet again,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “We’ll meet again, and you’ll be my husband again.”
It wasn’t long before the rescue team arrived, their presence bringing a sense of order to the chaos. As the whine of a helicopter grew louder and she saw the first flashes of orange vests wading through the mud, Ji-woo expected to feel relief. Instead, she felt nothing at all.
A thick fog settled over her mind, muffling everything as they eased her onto a stretcher and began the descent down the mountain.
The landslide had forced the cancellation of the second tournament but, miraculously, there were no casualties. Members of the Forest Agency scrambled across the scarred landscape, their movements urgent as they secured the area.
Ji-woo could only watch Seo Tae-joon, a hollow despair opening inside her.
A rescuer held open the door of an ambulance. “Are you coming?” he asked gently.
She knew she should move, but her limbs felt disconnected from her will. She stood frozen, caked in mud, until the man approached her again, his expression etched with concern.
“Are you okay, ma’am?”
How could she possibly answer that? Her mind was a whirlwind of questions, yet utterly still. What had just happened? Where had she gone so wrong?
She remembered the sound of Seo Tae-joon’s voice—cold, sharp, and utterly devoid of recognition. He had been a stranger.
That look in his eyes had been a physical blow, sending her spiraling into a freefall. It had crushed her. To be regarded as if she were nothing to him hurt more than any injury. She couldn’t bring herself to get into the ambulance, terrified of seeing that look on his face again.
Perhaps she had grown too comfortable in his adoration, too accustomed to the certainty of his love. His vacant stare had been a brutal shock, shattering the foundation of the life they had built together.
The rescue worker’s voice pulled her back. “Hello?”
“Oh, sorry! Yes, of course,” Ji-woo stammered, finally stepping into the ambulance and taking a seat beside her unconscious husband.
She had to keep him safe. It was a responsibility she felt utterly unready for, but one she had to accept. She wanted him back, all of him, even the parts she had yet to discover. She yearned for the love he had given her so freely, a love she now realized she couldn’t live without.
“Please come back,” she whispered, her breath fogging the cool air. “Seo Tae-joon, please come back to me.”
The ambulance door slid shut.
“Physically, there’s nothing wrong with him,” the doctor said, his tone professional and calm. “The head wound is superficial. He should regain consciousness soon.”
Ji-woo nodded numbly, her gaze fixed on Seo Tae-joon’s still form in the hospital bed. “Thank you, Doctor.”
He gave her a brief, sympathetic nod and left, closing the door softly behind him. The moment she was alone, her strength gave out, and Ji-woo crumpled to the floor.
When they had first arrived at the hospital, Seo Tae-joon had been whisked away for urgent care. Unresponsive as he was, the staff had needed to clean the mud and debris from his body with painstaking gentleness.
While they attended to him, a nurse had shown Ji-woo to a private VIP room to shower. She had stripped off her filthy clothes, letting them fall into a heap to be thrown away, and changed into a sterile hospital gown. When she emerged, clean and numb, she found Seo Tae-joon here, lying motionless beneath the crisp white sheets.