Chapter 15

Her wet hair was soaking darkly into the thin pajamas. Yet she seemed unable even to think of drying it.

Jei’s gaze was fixed on the black box on the island table.

The lid was closed. And yet she could not take her eyes off it, as if the photos and the recorder inside were fully visible to her.

“What are you thinking so hard about?”

“Ah……”

When Iheon approached and spoke, Jei blinked as if belatedly emerging from her thoughts. But her eyes remained fixed on the black box.

“Just……”

She let the end of her sentence trail off, then opened her mouth.

“Do the women in these photos know that man is dead?”

“…….”

“If they found out, how would they feel?”

It was a question no one could easily answer without having been the victim themselves.

They might feel relief. They might feel nothing at all. Perhaps it was a death too late to undo the time that had been broken.

“Who knows.”

It was an answer that came after a long while.

Jei’s gaze wavered faintly over the black box.

“Still, I wish they knew.”

“Knew what.”

“That now that man can’t do that to anyone anymore.”

Her expression was utterly different from when she had listened to the recording. It was not that her tension had eased—she looked like someone with no strength left even to hold onto something.

She looked bitter, even lonely.

Even as an undergraduate, she had shown an unusual interest in the victim’s trauma rather than the offender’s psychology.

That was also why, among so many professions, she had become an investigative reporting PD.

An investigative reporting PD was not simply someone who dug into cases.

They were people who unfolded once more the life of a single person lumped together under the name of a case, and returned the voice buried within it to the world.

It was also the work of looking into the pain that had been erased along with the case simply because the case was over.

Even after the reporting was finished, Jei could not easily shake off the victim’s face.

There are people who can maintain coolness only by keeping a distance from others’ pain, and there are people who can understand only by embracing another’s wounds as their own.

Iheon was the former, and Jei was the latter.

So it was no wonder she wore that kind of face now.

“Don’t think too deeply. The more you do, the harder it gets for you.”

“I know. Knowing doesn’t make it easy.”

Iheon quietly watched Jei let out a deep sigh and bury her face in both hands, then passed her and headed to the bedroom.

A short while later, when he returned to the living room, a hairdryer was in his hand.

The victims’ stories were sad, yes, but right now what bothered him more was Jei’s dampening back and her dripping hair.

In truth, he could have just told her to dry her hair first. He did not need to fetch the hairdryer himself.

Feeling a rather impulsive urge, Iheon stood behind Jei.

At the presence suddenly close behind her, Jei raised her head. Seeing what was in his hand, she let out a short sigh. Then she held out her hand.

“Give it to me. I’ll dry it.”

“Just stay still.”

“No. I’ll do it—”

Vrrr—. The sound of hot air pushed out Jei’s voice.

Iheon held the hairdryer in one hand and combed his fingers through his wife’s wet hair with the other.

Her wavy hair, holding the dampness, curled between his fingers. Soft yet thin strands fluttered in the hot wind.

He could not remember when he had last touched his wife’s hair. But his fingers untangled the knots more skillfully than he had expected.

At first, Jei tensed and hunched her shoulders, but under his touch her stiff neck slowly relaxed.

There had once been days when drying his wife’s hair was part of his routine.

Standing behind Jei as she sat at the vanity, he would dry her long hair with warm air, and she would smile contentedly, all the tension of the day gone from her face.

Some days she wiggled her toes and hummed.

“Ah, I’m happy. I guess this is why people get married.”

“I really feel loved.”

“Sometimes you’re so cold it hurts my feelings, but then you’re sweet like this, so I can’t even get angry.”

“This isn’t all some calculated move, is it?”

He was a man who could not express love with pretty words or gentle phrases, but in those moments, his touch was full of affection for her.

They were evenings he had let pass carelessly, not even knowing how precious they were because he had believed they would always return.

Iheon turned off the hairdryer only after the damp chill had completely left the hair against his palm.

The silence that had been pushed aside by the noise filled the empty space again.

Even after setting the hairdryer down, Iheon could not immediately withdraw his hand. The warmth of the hair remaining between his fingers cooled lukewarmly.

Feeling something was off, Jei turned to look at him. Tilting her head with eyes that asked what was wrong, a hollow laugh forced its way through his teeth.

All this time, he had resented the empty space she had left behind.

He had gone over their days together again and again, trying to find where it had gone wrong.

He had suffered, wondering whether the voice that had laughed and said she was happy at a single touch of his hand, and the eyes in the mirror that had not hidden their affection, had all been lies.

But could all of that have been a lie?

Other things aside, he himself had been inside the person who had been happy in each of those moments.

The heart that had laughed with her as he dried his wife’s wet hair, the heart that had secretly felt satisfied watching her face soften under his touch—that much was doubtlessly real.

Once he admitted that, the resentment that had been scratching so sharply at his nerves could no longer maintain its force.

It was not that the hatred had disappeared. He simply knew now.

That even that resentment could not keep him from embracing Jei again without loving her.

He was still hurt, and he was still angry. And yet he was glad that this woman was before his eyes.

That he could reach her if he extended his hand again—that was far more joyful than he had thought.

“Did it hurt a lot?”

Iheon asked for the first time since reuniting with Jei.

At the question, Jei did not seem to understand at first. But when she grasped the meaning at the end of their meeting eyes, her brown pupils trembled.

Since hearing that there had been a child, he had recalled that day countless times, yet he had never asked what Jei herself had been like that day.

He had thought only of why she had hidden it, why she had left, why she had not told him.

“How did you endure that time alone?”

He asked again. At that moment, Jei’s lips twisted helplessly. She moved her lips several times, then finally bowed her head deeply.

“I didn’t endure it. Time just passed.”

“…….”

“If your body hurts, you can take medicine, but when your heart hurts, there’s nothing you can do.”

Her fingers slowly tightened.

“So I abandoned myself. I abandoned you. I ruined us.”

Looking down at Jei, who could not even bring herself to say the empty words that enough time had passed and it was all right now, Iheon asked.

“What do you want me to do?”

Jei did not answer right away.

Iheon waited. This time, at least, he wanted to hear it directly from her mouth.

After a long while, her lips opened again.

“Stay by my side, like before.”

Her voice trembled faintly because her throat was tight.

“I know I was awful and selfish. But can’t you lose to me just once?”

Jei raised her head. The corners of her eyes, holding back tears, were stained red.

A desperation she had never once shown since returning wavered dangerously in her brown eyes.

“I don’t mean we should go back to the way we were right away. I know we can’t. I have no right to ask you to pretend it never happened after I made it this way.”

“…….”

“Just don’t push me away.”

Jei reached out. Her hesitant fingertips touched the back of Iheon’s hand, then firmly caught one of his fingers.

“And don’t grow distant.”

As if afraid he might shake her off, yet she did not loosen her grip.

Iheon neither refused nor accepted her request. He simply did not shake off the hand holding his.

There was something odd about her words asking him to lose just once.

Because Iheon had never once won against Jei since he first met her ten years ago.

So this time, too, he was not losing to her.

In the end, he could only lose again.