Special Side Story 4
“I’m home.”
Han Yu-ae smiled as she watched Si-heon enter through the front door.
“Si-heon, you’re back?”
“……Yes, Mother.”
Mother. A bitter smile tugged at Han Yu-ae’s lips at the title.
Thanks to the strict upbringing imposed by his grandfather, Chairman Kwon Soon-yeol, Si-heon had never once called her “Mom” since he first began speaking.
The same went for “Dad.”
Though her husband, Kwon Hee-sung—who had been raised the same way—didn’t mind, Han Yu-ae couldn’t help but feel an emptiness in her chest.
Even though he was her own flesh and blood, there was a distance between them, and that feeling had grown especially pronounced lately.
She recalled her husband’s words—It’s because he’s entering puberty now that he’s in middle school—but the lingering sadness was unavoidable.
“Was everything okay at school? Nothing happened?”
“Yes.”
“I couldn’t go yesterday because of my cold. I was supposed to have a meeting with your homeroom teacher. So, tomorrow…”
“It’s fine.”
Si-heon cut her off with emotionless eyes.
“Manager Sung came instead.”
“Ah, Manager Sung…”
“I’ll go to my room now.”
Just as Si-heon bowed his head and turned decisively toward the stairs to the second floor—
“Si—Si-heon.”
Without thinking, Han Yu-ae grabbed her son’s wrist.
“…….”
Si-heon turned his head and stared at her.
When her eyes met his unwavering black gaze, Han Yu-ae flinched, then awkwardly smiled and slowly let go.
“It’s just… I just wanted to see you. That’s all.”
Si-heon silently studied his mother.
Suddenly uneasy, Han Yu-ae parted her trembling lips.
“Why… are you looking at me like that?”
“Grandfather’s guests will be arriving soon.”
Her son’s voice, already deepened by the onset of puberty, scraped sharply against Han Yu-ae’s heart.
“You should go rest. Before you run into them.”
“……”
“They call it a discussion, but it’s really a negotiation. If you show weakness, Hwanhee will be at a disadvantage.”
With those words, Si-heon brushed past her.
Han Yu-ae stared blankly at her son’s retreating figure before clutching her chest with trembling hands.
The “weakness” Si-heon mentioned was her.
A pitiful alcoholic.
A fragile, useless burden to the group.
“Hk…”
Tears spilled over.
Perhaps because she had resisted drinking, determined to greet Si-heon sober, her composure crumbled all too easily.
As Han Yu-ae collapsed to the floor, waiting servants rushed to support her from both sides, guiding her toward the bedroom.
Half-dragged, she slumped onto the bed, burying her face in the pillow as she sobbed.
The sound of the door closing was drowned out by her weeping.
“Huuu…”
No matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t find a reason for her existence—her worth, her purpose.
To her father-in-law, Kwon Soon-yeol, she was an inconvenient burden to be discarded.
To her husband, Kwon Hee-sung, she was an exhausting weight.
And to her son, Si-heon—she was…
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
At that moment, only one thought filled Han Yu-ae’s mind.
She had to disappear.
Only then would everyone be at ease.
Chairman Kwon Soon-yeol could take on a healthy, strong daughter-in-law who would actually benefit the group—and in turn, that would help Hee-sung too.
Though she worried about how Si-heon would adjust to a stepmother…
…it would still be far better than having a mother like her.
Slumping to the floor, Han Yu-ae reached under the bed and pulled out the hidden hip flask.
It contained the strongest liquor she owned—stashed away for when the pain became unbearable.
Clutching the metal flask, she struggled to her feet and stumbled toward the bathroom.
“I should never have given birth… If I hadn’t, if he’d been born to another mother, he wouldn’t be suffering like this…”
My poor son.
My poor Si-heon.
Muttering under her breath, Han Yu-ae began filling the large bathtub with scalding hot water.
***
That afternoon.
Han Yu-ae was found in the bathtub and rushed to the hospital.
Kwon Hee-sung, who had grown uneasy after his wife failed to answer his calls and left work early, was the first to discover her.
The hip flask lay empty on the bathroom floor, and the water that had overflowed from the tub was tinged with red.
……
When she opened her eyes, a white ceiling came into view.
Han Yu-ae slowly turned her head.
Her blurred vision gradually began to clear.
Then, her eyes widened in shock.
She had thought it was her husband, but upon closer look—it was Si-heon.
How strange.
Had I been asleep for years?
Why… does my fourteen-year-old son suddenly look like an adult?
“Mother.”
Her mind was still hazy, as if drunk.
To her eyes, Si-heon appeared fully grown.
“Do you want to leave Jungshimwon?”
“Mmm…”
“Is it too hard for you?”
Tears spilled from Han Yu-ae’s eyes at his words.
Si-heon wiped them away with his sleeve.
“They say you’ll need more time to fully regain your senses. Father is speaking with Dr. Yu right now.”
Staring at his dampened sleeve, Si-heon spoke again.
“If it’s too difficult… you can go.”
“Huuu…”
“Leave with Father. I’ll be fine.”
His voice was flat, devoid of any emotion.
Yet why did it pierce her heart so deeply?
“You may not remember, but once, when you were drunk… you told me something. That you wished you could live not as the daughter-in-law of Hwanhee Group, but just as Han Yu-ae—an ordinary woman studying English literature.”
Did I really say that?
A transparent something seemed to stir through her muddled mind. Han Yu-ae tensed her brow but couldn’t speak.
“But then you immediately shook your head. You said that if you had lived as Han Yu-ae, the English literature scholar, you would never have met me. That you would choose this unhappy present—where you could always be with your son—over ordinary happiness.”
Han Yu-ae blinked.
Is this a mirage?
Si-heon was smiling faintly at her.
“That’s enough for me. If my existence was even a momentary comfort to you, then that’s all I need.”
No. Not just a moment.
Si-heon, you’ve always been my light and my solace.
It’s just that I was too weak to hold myself together.
“I’m sorry for making things so hard for you.”
In his words, tears spilled uncontrollably from Han Yu-ae’s eyes, like a dam breaking.
She wanted to say no, but her lips only trembled soundlessly.
“Forget about me, and live your life, Mother. As Han Yu-ae—the ordinary woman who studied English literature.”
Si-heon held her gaze intently.
“Don’t die, Mother.”
His voice was clearer than ever before.
“You may have suffered because of me… but I was happy. Happy to be your father’s son.”
Wiping her tears once more, Si-heon slowly rose from his seat.
“If you leave Jungshimwon, live as you wish. That’s the only thing I ask of you.”
“Ah—” He turned his head slightly.
“I wish I could’ve eaten one more sandwich you made. That’s the only regret.”
They were delicious.
As he murmured softly and walked away, Han Yu-ae couldn’t bring herself to stop him.
Thud.
With the sound of the door closing, Si-heon was gone.
Left alone, Han Yu-ae cried silently.
Slowly, her eyelids began to grow heavy.
As she slipped back into deep sleep, one last thought crossed her mind.
This is such a sad dream.
And for some reason… I don’t think I should wake up from it.
***
When Han Yu-ae opened her eyes again, her world had changed.
Unlike in her dream, Si-heon was nothing but cold to her.
“Don’t do anything. Don’t come to my school. Don’t contact me.”
Even when her husband, Kwon Hee-sung, flew into the first rage of his life, Si-heon remained unmoved.
Watching his eldest grandson with approval, Kwon Soon-yeol one day summoned Han Yu-ae and Kwon Hee-sung to Nujeong Pavilion.
“You called for us, Father.”
Her emaciated body. Her pallid face. Dark circles under her eyes as if painted on. Lips cracked and peeling.
Kwon Soon-yeol studied Han Yu-ae—now barely recognizable as human—before speaking.
“Choose. Whether you will step back inside this pavilion… or leave it forever.”
Discussion
0 CommentsNo comments yet.