Suho walked down the hospital corridor, his steps steady but heavy with unspoken weight. The doctor's words echoed in his mind. Mr. Kang is stable now. He can be discharged. Relief existed, yes, but it was thin, stretched over too much pain.
He pushed open the door to the room.
Mr. Kang sat on the bed, shoulders slumped, gaze fixed somewhere far away. Exhaustion clung to him like a second skin. The lines on his face carried more than age. They carried humiliation, grief, and a soul worn thin by months of silent suffering. He didn't speak, didn't move, as the doctor calmly explained medications, diet, and precautions to Mrs. Kang.
"Hello, Mr. Kim," the doctor greeted when he noticed Suho.
Suho offered a small, polite smile. His eyes, however, drifted immediately to his father-in-law. Mr. Kang glanced at him briefly, then looked away, avoiding his gaze as if it burned.
Mrs. Kang turned and smiled weakly. Suho stepped closer and gave her a gentle side hug, steadying her more than himself.
"I've explained the prescription to Mrs. Kang," the doctor said. "As I mentioned earlier, he'll need proper rest and careful monitoring for a while."
"I'll make sure of that, doctor," Suho replied calmly. "Thank you."
Mr. Kang heard every word.
The doctor shook Suho's hand and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him.
Silence settled. Suho turned toward the bed, his voice soft. "Let's go home, aboji."
Mr. Kang's jaw tightened. "You don't have to do this, Suho."
Suho froze for a second.
"I'm not coming anywhere," Mr. Kang continued, finally lifting his eyes. They were tired, glassy. "And you don't need to involve yourself in our lives anymore. My family has already caused enough trouble to you." His throat burned with every word.
Suho looked down, then back at him, gathering himself. "I don't know about Hyunwoo, appa," he said quietly. "But I refuse to accept Hauen as a culprit or a traitor until anything is proven."
Mr. Kang stiffened.
"You don't deserve punishment for baseless accusations," Suho went on. "You and Omma were part of my family. You still are." His voice didn't waver. "And that makes you my responsibility. I failed to check on you all these months, and I'm sorry for that. But from now on, no one will humiliate you or hurt you in my presence. Let me do my duty as your son-in-law. Please… come with me."
Mr. Kang's eyes filled instantly. He lowered his head, shoulders trembling as everything he had held inside finally stirred. The shame. The isolation. The fear of being abandoned.
Suho sensed it before the first sob escaped. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his father-in-law, firm and reassuring. A silent promise passed between them. You don't have to fight alone anymore.
Mr. Kang broke down quietly in his arms.
"I'm tired, Suho," he whispered. "I'm so tired of life. I couldn't bear it anymore. That's why I… I tried to end it." His voice cracked, fragile as glass.
Suho's vision blurred, but he forced himself to stay steady. On the other side, Mrs. Kang sobbed softly, covering her mouth.
"It's okay, Appa," Suho said gently, holding him closer. "You're not alone anymore. You have me now. Don't worry. I'm here."
Mr. Kang clutched his sleeve weakly. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry for whatever my children did to you. I'm truly sorry."
Suho's heart clenched painfully. "Don't apologize," he said softly. "None of this is your fault. And besides… no one has been proven guilty."
Mr. Kang cried for a while longer, letting the pain drain out through tears he had denied himself for too long. Suho stayed, holding him, absorbing his grief despite his own wounds still bleeding.
When his sobs finally eased, Suho spoke again, voice warm but firm. "Come. Let's go home. You need proper care. And no more drinking," he added gently. "The doctor won't like that." A faint smile touched his lips. "And about your business, I'll handle it. Your only job now is to focus on your health and your well-being."
Mr. Kang nodded slowly, calmer, lighter. "Thank you… son," he said, voice thick with emotion.
Suho smiled, soft and sincere. "It's my pleasure, appa."
He helped him stand, steadying him with care, and guided both his in-laws out of the room. Together, they walked toward the car, the hospital fading behind them as Suho drove them toward the penthouse.
Toward a place that would, for now, be called home.
......................
Hyunwoo sat inside the narrow jail cell, his back resting against the cold wall, his eyes fixed on the thin slice of light slipping through the high, barred window. It was pale and distant, like a memory he could no longer touch.
A year.
One whole year had passed since this place had swallowed him. Somewhere along the way, the cell had stopped feeling like a prison and started feeling like a twisted version of home. Not because it was comforting, but because he had forgotten what home even felt like anymore.
His face was drained of color, hollowed by sleepless nights and constant unrest. His clothes were worn, faintly dusty, carrying the smell of confinement. Every day blended into the next, marked only by the slow crawl of time and the clanging of iron doors.
When will this end? When will I get my life back?
The updates he received were always the same. Hauen was still missing. And until she was found, this case would never reach its full stop.
These days, even his parents had stopped coming.
He left this dark room only for court trials. Each appearance outside was followed by the same cycle. Questions. Accusations. Twisted statements he himself had made, now tangled beyond repair. Every time he tried to explain, his own words turned against him.
He shut his eyes. The day he had surrendered himself to the police replayed in his mind like a cruel loop. Standing there, accepting accusations that weren't his. Signing his freedom away with a steady hand that now felt foolish.
Why did I do it?
One decision. That was all it took to shatter lives. Suho's life. Hauen's life. And his own.
Yet one question never left him, no matter how hard he tried to bury it.
Why did Hauen escape? How did she do it?
He knew she was innocent. He had always known. And yet her disappearance, her sudden vanishing act, kept gnawing at him. That bold move unsettled him, forcing him to question everything over and over again.
Three months.
It had been three long months since anyone from outside had come to see him. Not even that one person, he had done all this for. That silence was beginning to suffocate him more than the cell itself.
Did I get fooled again? Was I betrayed? Or should I wait a little longer?
In three weeks, there would be another court trial. Another round of interrogation. Another attempt to paint him guilty using his own fractured words.
He was tired. Tired of defending himself. Tired of waiting. Tired of hoping.
He wanted to go home.
But home was no longer waiting for him. He had destroyed everything with his own hands, chasing something he believed was worth the sacrifice. And now, standing at the edge of regret, he couldn't afford to give up so easily.
I'll wait a little longer, he told himself. Just a few more days.
But deep inside, he knew the truth he refused to face.
He had no idea where this path was leading. And no idea when and how it would all end.