4.

I sat on the bed, wrapped in a blanket, staring blankly out of the window.

It had been five days, ten hours, and twenty-six minutes since the accident.

After that night, I had been confined to this room. Mina refused to let me meet him. She even assigned a nurse to watch me twenty-four seven.

And I didn't protest.

Because I had already caused Mina enough trouble.

But my mind was never here.

It was always in the ICU.

With him.

Mina updated me about his condition every day.

No improvement.

Usually, in cases like this, patients don't take this long to regain consciousness.

But he wasn't waking up.

And I didn't understand why.

That night… when I had sneaked into the ICU, I was certain I felt movement in his hand.

Not imagination.

Not a dream.

A real, faint movement.

That moment…

His face.

His eyes.

They haunted me.

Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw nothing else.

Just his eyes.

The way they looked at me.

The way they silently begged me not to leave.

The way they held onto...

Thuck. Thuck.

The knock pulled me out of my thoughts.

The nurse immediately stood up and opened the door.

And the most unwanted person stepped inside.

If I had to choose between death and seeing his face…

I would choose death.

"Miss, if you need anything, I'll be outside," the nurse said before leaving and closing the door behind her.

I turned my face back toward the window, refusing to look at him.

He walked closer and placed the bouquet he had brought on the side table.

"How are you?" he asked.

I didn't answer.

I didn't even acknowledge his presence.

He let out a tired sigh.

"I heard you're sick."

The fake concern in his voice made my blood boil.

I turned toward him sharply.

"Don't be happy," I said coldly. "I'm not dying yet."

"Y/N," he said, frowning, "why do you think I'd be happy if something happened to you?"

I laughed bitterly.

"What else should I expect from a greedy, manipulative bastard like you?"

Anger flashed across his face.

For a moment, he looked away, staring at nothing. His jaw tightened as he bit his lower lip, clearly restraining himself from saying something.

He took a deep breath.

Then looked back at me.

"Get well soon, Y/N."

And without another word…

He turned around and walked out.

He is Kim Taehyung.

My dad's stepbrother's son.

That alone is enough to explain why I can't stand the sight of him.

My father and his father have been in conflict for years—over property distribution.

Our grandmother had transferred all her property in both of their names, including the old village villa.

After her death, my uncle wanted to sell everything.

But my father refused.

I still remember that day clearly.

I remember the way my father's voice trembled with anger and pain when he said—

"That house holds the memories of my parents. Their laughter. Their lives. You don't sell your family for money."

But my uncle didn't care about memories.

He cared about profit.

And that disagreement slowly turned into hatred.

Court cases.

Arguments.

Silence that lasted for years.

And now they are trying to forced me .

Taehyung grew up watching his father resent mine.

And I grew up watching mine get hurt.

So maybe it was never just about property.

Maybe it was about choosing sides.

And I chose my father.

Every time.

That's why when I look at him....

I don't just see a person.

I see everything that tried to break my family apart.

And I hate him for it.

A few minutes later, Mina rushed into the room, looking worried and slightly out of breath.

"Nurse Park told me you had a visitor," she said. "And my assumption was right."

I looked at her.

"It was him."

"You met him?" I asked.

"I saw him leaving," she said as she came closer and held my hands gently. "What did he say to you?"

Before I could answer, she suddenly pulled me into a hug .

I tapped her arm lightly.

"Mina…."

She pulled back a little.

"So?" she asked again. "What did he say?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" she repeated, confused, sitting beside me. "He came all the way here just to say 'nothing'?"

Here we go again—her lame sense of humor.

I gave her a done look.

She stared at my face for two seconds… then burst into laughter.

"Okay, okay. Forget him," she said, waving it off. "Tell me about you. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," I replied. "Tell me when you're going to discharge m—"

"Don't you dare even think about that!"

Another voice cut me off.

Both of us turned toward the door.

Woojin.

My eyes widened.

What was he doing here? Wasn't he supposed to be in the US for his cousin's wedding?

Before I could say anything, he rushed toward me and wrapped me in a bone-crushing hug.

I tapped his arm.

"You're suffocating me."

He pulled back, cupped my face in his hands, and scanned me from head to toe.

"I leave you alone for one week," he said dramatically, "and look what you've done to yourself."

Mina tapped his shoulder.

"I'm standing right here too, you know."

"I know," Woojin said. "But you're not sick, bro."

Mina blinked.

"So what are you implying? You only care about me if I'm sick?"

Woojin put on a serious face.

"No. I'm saying I wouldn't care about you even then."

Mina hit his arm.

I couldn't help but chuckle.

He pulled Mina into a light hug, then dragged me in too.

"I missed you both."

"Me too," I said softly.

"But I didn't," Mina replied flatly.

Woojin immediately tightened his hold on her, squishing her.

Mina struggled.

"Woojin—let go—I can't breathe!"

He finally released her.

I looked at him.

"How did you find out about all this?"

"I called both of you," Woojin said. "Neither of you picked up. So I called Dr. Yoo. He told me everything."

I nodded.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

A nurse entered hurriedly.

Worry was written all over his face.

"Dr. Lee," he said urgently, "that ICU patient—"

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***