Three years ago........ (Continued)
It had been three long days since the doctors had announced that Ji-Won had finally passed the critical stage of his coma. After days of uncertainty, the machines that had kept him alive were now silent, removed from his body. Though his condition was stable, Ji-Won had yet to fully awaken. Occasionally, his body would stir, a soft moan escaping his lips, as though trapped in a distant dream, but he remained locked in the stillness of slumber.
Andrew and James sat in silence on the couch, the weight of exhaustion pressing heavily on their shoulders as they kept watch over Ji-Won. Andrew's gaze was distant, his mind preoccupied with the confrontation he had faced with his father—the Vice Chairman, who now oversaw every detail of the situation but had unexpectedly agreed to keep Ji-Won's whereabouts hidden. Andrew wasn't sure how much longer he could convince his father to continue shielding him. James, his brow furrowed with concern, glanced at Andrew, sensing the unease that lingered in the air.
"Andrew, what if the President finds out we've been hiding Ji-Won? What are you going to do then?" James asked, his voice thick with worry.
Andrew didn't look up, his voice steady but firm as he replied, "Shhh, don't overthink it. We have to trust that my father erased all the traces."
"But," James pressed, his brow furrowing further, "why would he do that? Especially when he was so against this from the start?"
Andrew let out a long, tired sigh and finally met James's gaze. His eyes were clouded with uncertainty, a stark contrast to the unwavering confidence he usually projected. "I don't know what he's up to. But right now, we don't have a choice. We have to stick with him."
The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on everyone. James leaned back, his shoulders slumped in exhaustion, his eyes fixed on Ji-Won's still form. His heart was heavy, worry etched into every line of his face. Then, just as he thought he might have imagined it, something shifted in Ji-Won's hand—barely noticeable, but undeniable.
"Andrew!" James's voice broke through the stillness, sharp with urgency. He shot up from his seat, eyes wide with disbelief.
Andrew didn't move at first, his face a mask of fatigue. "What now?" His voice was a low murmur, devoid of energy, as though he had already braced himself for yet another false hope.
"Ji-Won... check! His finger moved, and he's moaning again!" James exclaimed, his disbelief giving way to a surge of hope.
Andrew slowly stood, walking toward the bed with cautious steps, knowing all too well the heartbreak of fleeting movements. But his heart still skipped a beat as he leaned over Ji-Won, eyes wide with expectation, praying for a sign of life.
Ji-Won's hand twitched again, his fingers curling ever so slightly, the movement so subtle it could've been overlooked. His breathing grew shallow, as though his body was fighting against the pull of unconsciousness. A faint furrow formed on his brow, as though he were locked in a battle between sleep and wakefulness.
Andrew leaned closer, his breath shaky with a mix of hope and desperation. "Come on, wake up…" His voice was barely a whisper, laden with an aching wish for Ji-Won to return to them.
Ji-Won's eyelids fluttered, his breathing catching for a brief moment before it steadied. Slowly, painfully, his eyes cracked open, just enough for a sliver of light to break through the darkness. He blinked several times, his surroundings blurry and foreign, his mind struggling to make sense of the world. His lips parted, dry and cracked, as though he wanted to speak but couldn't summon the strength.
James's ears twitched in disbelief as the flutter of Ji-Won's eyelids registered. Without a second thought, he rushed to the door, urgency in his every step. "Doctor! We need a doctor here!" His voice echoed down the hallway, disbelief tinged with frantic hope.
Moments later, the doctor arrived, followed by two nurses. Andrew stepped back to make room, his pulse pounding in his ears as the medical team swarmed around Ji-Won's bed. The doctor moved with practiced precision, checking Ji-Won's vital signs. He used a flashlight to test Ji-Won's pupils, feeling for his pulse and pressing gently on his chest to check his reflexes.
"His vitals are strong," the doctor murmured, glancing at the monitor that now displayed a steady heart rate. One of the nurses adjusted Ji-Won's IV, while another gently bent his arm, testing his motor response. Ji-Won's fingers twitched in response, confirming the signs of life they had been desperately hoping for.
The doctor leaned in, his voice calm and methodical. "Can you hear me?" he asked, watching Ji-Won closely for any sign of awareness. Ji-Won's eyes shifted, his brow furrowing as though he was trying to focus on something distant.
"Try to follow my finger." The doctor moved his finger from side to side, testing Ji-Won's ability to track motion. Slowly, Ji-Won's gaze followed, sluggish but unmistakable, as though he were fighting through thick fog.
After a long, tense silence, the doctor asked, "Can you tell me your name?"
Ji-Won's lips parted again, confusion painting his features. He tried to speak, but no words came. Instead, he shook his head faintly, the gesture filled with uncertainty. His eyes flickered between the doctor and Andrew, seeking something familiar, but finding only an overwhelming sense of disorientation.
"I... I don't know," Ji-Won whispered, his voice weak and barely audible.
Andrew stepped forward, his voice calm yet resolute. "Euan. Your name is Euan," he said, the words sharp and clear. There was no reason behind the name, no explanation for why it came to him in that moment, but it was the first name that came to his mind, cutting through the haze of confusion that filled the room.
Ji-Won blinked, his confusion deepening, and shifted his gaze between Andrew and the doctor. Fear mixed with bewilderment painted his face as he struggled to make sense of the names, faces, and the world around him.
The doctor continued his assessment without resistance. He placed a stethoscope on Ji-Won's chest, listening intently to his breathing. Satisfied with the response, he exchanged a quick glance with the nurse, who recorded the information on a clipboard.
"Can you move your toes for me?" the doctor asked, lifting the blanket slightly. Ji-Won hesitated, a faint tremor passing through him, before slowly wiggling his toes beneath the sheet. The doctor nodded, turning to Andrew. "His motor responses are returning, but he's still very disoriented."
Andrew nodded tightly, his eyes never leaving Ji-Won's face, watching for any more signs of recognition. Ji-Won's eyes were still clouded, brief flickers of recognition appearing and disappearing like shadows.
The doctor leaned in once more, his voice gentle but firm. "We'll continue monitoring you closely, Rest now, okay?" He gave Ji-Won's arm a gentle pat before turning toward Andrew and James. The nurses finished their tasks and exited the room.
Andrew refocused on Ji-Won, gently rubbing his hands in a soothing motion, as he watched Ji-Won regain consciousness. Though Ji-Won's gaze remained uncertain, shifting between Andrew and James, the only thing that mattered now was that he was alive. Without hesitation, Andrew turned to James. "Call Secretary Choi. We need to give him the news. And make sure you explain everything to him."
***
The small garden outside the residence felt almost too quiet as James paced back and forth, his footsteps quick and restless. He wrung his hands together in frustration before blurting out the words he had been holding back.
"I don't know why I'm letting you go through with this, Andrew, but I'm scared," James admitted, his voice shaky. He stopped abruptly, turning to face Andrew with a pleading look. "Can we just hand him back to the President or his family?"
Andrew's face tightened, his gaze narrowing, and for a moment, the air between them felt heavier. His voice, when it came, was sharp and direct. "Can you just keep your mouth shut?" The words were harsh, but underneath them, there was a flicker of vulnerability. He wasn't sure if Ji-Won's memories would ever return. Part of him secretly wished they wouldn't, that Youn-Jae would stay buried in Ji-Won's forgotten past. Yet, the more he thought about it, the more he realized he was gambling with Ji-Won's future. Each decision felt like it weighed on him, each day the burden becoming more suffocating.
James froze, his gaze desperate as he stepped closer to Andrew. "Let's just leave, Andrew. Go back to America. We don't need to get tangled in all of this. It's too much."
Andrew exhaled a long, exhausted breath, the frustration mounting inside him. He was tired—tired of the constant pushback, the endless questions, the noise. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers combing through the mess, and said nothing at first, the silence heavy between them.
"You can go to America alone, and forget everything here," Andrew finally said, his tone blunt but weary. "I won't get mad at you if you want to save yourself."
James's face softened, his lips pressed into a thin line. "But Andrew, you know I can't just leave you behind. We've been friends since we were kids. We've always relied on each other. I can't walk away from that now."
Andrew's shoulders sagged, the tension in his chest rising again. He shook his head, his eyes filled with exhaustion. "That's why I'm telling you, you still have time to leave. I don't want you dragged into this."
James let out a deep sigh, the worry weighing heavily on his heart. He had seen Andrew risk everything for a love that James couldn't fully understand. With a final, uncertain glance at Andrew, James said, "I have a place… where the three of us can start over."
Andrew blinked, the words catching him off guard. James had always been eager to escape the chaos, yet he had never suggested something like this before—especially not with Ji-Won in the picture. The thought that James was including Ji-Won in this plan stirred something in Andrew, a faint glimmer of hope—or perhaps just relief. It was something.
"Where is this place?" Andrew asked, his voice softer now, a hint of curiosity breaking through the exhaustion.
"It's a piece of land on the beach," James explained, his voice trembling just slightly. The shadows of their recent trauma still clung to him, and the looming threats of Youn-Jae and the Chairman weighed heavy on his words. "You remember? My father gave it to me back in middle school. We could build anything there—a business, a villa... whatever we need. We just need to get away from all of this. Before I lose my fucking mind."
Andrew studied James for a moment, the gravity of the offer sinking in. A quiet place by the beach, far from Korea, far from the storm that had torn apart everything around them. It seemed like a dream. Could they really escape? Could they really start over?
For the first time in what felt like forever, Andrew let himself entertain the thought of leaving everything behind.
Just then, the soft, rhythmic sound of wheels against the stone pathway broke the silence, and a nurse appeared, gently pushing Ji-Won's wheelchair into the garden. Ji-Won's eyes moved cautiously, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings with a quiet, vulnerable gaze. His voice, barely above a whisper, carried a tentative tremor. "I'd like to stay here for a moment. I'm not… ready to go back to bed."
The nurse nodded, her actions calm and patient as she guided Ji-Won into a patch of warm sunlight streaming down from between the trees. She positioned him near Andrew and James before stepping back, leaving the three of them in a hushed, sunlit corner of the garden. Andrew and James shared a glance, their expressions a mix of relief and lingering worry as they observed Ji-Won, who seemed to settle into the sun's warmth, though a faint cloud of confusion still shadowed his eyes.
Ji-Won's silence had become one of Andrew's greatest challenges. Every time he tried to reach out, Ji-Won's thoughts seemed to drift somewhere beyond his grasp. They were locked in a strange, uncertain tension, both aching to bridge the gap yet hesitant to cross it.
James, however, had a way of coaxing Ji-Won out of his silence, even just a little. Whether it was through a lighthearted conversation or helping him practice walking, Ji-Won would sometimes respond with a small remark, like the faint echo of the man he used to be.
"Hey, how are you feeling today?" James asked warmly, kneeling slightly to meet Ji-Won's gaze with an encouraging smile.
Ji-Won blinked, his brow furrowing as he considered the question. After a moment, he replied, his voice fragile yet honest. "I'm... okay, I think." There was a pause before he added, almost shyly, "How about you? And… him?" His eyes flicked briefly to Andrew, an awkward hesitance in his gaze, as if just saying Andrew's name took effort.
James raised his eyebrows, a flicker of surprise in his expression. He hadn't expected Ji-Won to ask about Andrew. He glanced over his shoulder at Andrew, who stood silently, his calm demeanor betrayed only by a subtle, flickering gaze directed at Ji-Won, careful not to intrude.
James gave a small, playful smile, hoping to ease the tension. "Oh, me? I'm fine. But as for him…" he threw a teasing glance toward Andrew. "Don't mind him," he said, nudging Ji-Won lightly. "Right, Andrew?"
Andrew responded with a soft, genuine smile, his eyes meeting Ji-Won's with a warmth that lingered for a moment. It wasn't much, but it was enough. Ji-Won was trying—slowly, hesitantly, but surely. For the first time in days, Andrew felt a small sense of relief.
But the brief connection left Ji-Won feeling unexpectedly flustered. His cheeks turned faintly red, and he quickly looked away, fidgeting with his hands. Andrew noticed the sudden shift and, sensing Ji-Won's discomfort, took a step back. He looked over at James, signaling for him to come closer, then turned and walked a short distance away, leaving Ji-Won to stare after him with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty.
Once Andrew was far enough away, he spoke quietly to James, his expression composed. Ji-Won could see their forms in the distance but couldn't make out the conversation.
"James, could you stay with him for a while?" Andrew asked, his tone firm yet cautious. "I need to see my father."
James hesitated, glancing between Andrew and Ji-Won. "Why now? Can't you have him come here?"
Andrew shook his head, his jaw set. "There's no time. Now that he's recovering, we need to act fast. I'll talk to my father about arrangements for getting him to America."
James sighed, his concern evident. "Isn't it risky going to the office now?"
Andrew's eyes hardened slightly. "I'll be careful. If I run into my uncle, he won't get anything from me—don't worry."
After a moment's hesitation, James gave a reluctant nod. "Fine. But come back as soon as you can." He placed a hand on Andrew's shoulder, offering a last word of caution before Andrew turned and walked away, disappearing beyond the garden path.
As soon as Andrew was out of sight, James returned to Ji-Won, who had been quietly watching them with his head lowered and hands fidgeting. He glanced up at James, his face a mix of worry and self-doubt. "Did he… leave because of me? I didn't mean to be so much trouble."
James knelt down beside him, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "No, it's nothing like that. He just had something to take care of. You're not too much for him," he added, shaking his head gently.
Ji-Won's gaze fell, and he bit his lip uncertainly. "But he didn't even look back… or say goodbye."
James ruffled his hair playfully, trying to lift his spirits. "Don't overthink it, Euan. He cares about you too much for that. Trust me, getting mad at you would be the last thing on his mind."
***
Youn-Jae stormed down the sleek office corridors as soon as he found out that Andrew had just arrived at the building, his footsteps echoing like distant thunder, heart pounding with raw, unrestrained fury. Staff members shrank back at the sight of him, instinctively pulling away from the fury radiating from his tense frame. Behind him, Secretary Min trailed, barely able to keep up, his voice laced with anxiety.
"President, please—calm down!" Secretary Min's words barely registered as Youn-Jae pressed forward, each step propelled by the fire raging inside him.
Reaching the office door, Youn-Jae pushed it open with such force that it slammed against the wall, the sound like a gunshot reverberating through the silent room. Instantly, the charged silence deepened, and all eyes turned toward him. Andrew and the Vice Chairman sat across from each other, their conversation halted mid-sentence. The words Youn-Jae caught— "living in America"—hung in the air like a bitter echo, each syllable a stab of betrayal.
"Who the hell is leaving for America?" Youn-Jae's voice cracked the silence, sharp and commanding, his eyes blazing as they bore into the two men across the room. His chest heaved, his breaths ragged, each one an attempt to contain the fury that simmered beneath his skin.
Andrew rose slowly, his face a mask of eerie calm. His gaze was unwavering, his tone disturbingly steady. "I am," he stated, each word landing like a blow. "James and I are leaving for America in a couple of days."
Disbelief twisted across Youn-Jae's face, the hurt flashing like a lightning strike. He crossed the room in a few quick strides, grabbing Andrew by the front of his shirt, yanking him forward until their faces were inches apart. His knuckles whitened, his grip fierce with the desperation and betrayal flooding through him.
"It's just that simple for you? I thought you cared about Ji-Won, but I see I was wrong to judge your feelings for him," Youn-Jae's voice trembled, layered with fury and heartbreak. "How can you leave so easily?"
The room felt claustrophobic, thick with unspoken words and pain. Youn-Jae's breath came in uneven bursts, his gaze searching Andrew's face for any sign, any answer, any reassurance that he wasn't truly alone in grieving Ji-Won's loss. His grip tightened, his voice rising in anguish. "You went to the cliff—tell me, did you see something? Tell me what happened when you were there!"
Andrew remained impassive, his voice as cold and unfeeling as steel. "Nothing," he said flatly, the word slicing through the fragile thread of hope Youn-Jae had been clinging to. "I found nothing when I searched for him."
Youn-Jae's frustration reached a breaking point, his hands trembling with the effort to control himself. Before he could speak again, the Vice Chairman, who had been watching the heated exchange with icy detachment, stood. His gaze fell on Youn-Jae, hard and uncompromising.
"Youn-Jae," the Vice Chairman's voice cut through the tension, firm and commanding. "That's enough." His eyes held a reprimand, a cruel reminder of the distance that had always existed between them. "Look at yourself. Falling apart like this? This is no way to handle the situation."
Youn-Jae's grip faltered, his hands trembling as he released Andrew, his expression briefly crumbling under the weight of his brother's words. The anger drained from his face, replaced by an overwhelming sense of defeat. His shoulders slumped as his hands fell to his sides, heavy with failure.
Andrew smoothed his shirt with deliberate slowness, his calm demeanor only fueling the simmering anger within Youn-Jae. He turned to him, his voice cold, every word aimed to wound. "I heard Grandfather's advice," he said, biting and unyielding. "Why don't you follow it and go to Germany? Get treated—for everyone's peace of mind. We all need to move on."
Youn-Jae's jaw clenched, his fists shaking at his sides as he forced himself to hold his ground. His voice, barely a whisper, carried the bitterness of heartbreak. "Move on?" His tone was dangerously quiet, the tremor in his voice betraying the storm inside. "You think I can just move on?"
Andrew's eyes met his, unflinching. "You should," he said, with chilling finality. "For all our sakes."
The words hit Youn-Jae like a blow to the gut, the rejection stealing the breath from his lungs. His vision blurred with the weight of emotions too intense to process—anger, hurt, and a deep, aching sense of abandonment. Every part of him wanted to scream, to fight, but he could feel the truth, painful and undeniable, sinking in.
With one last look, a mixture of fury and heartbreak etched across his face, Youn-Jae turned and stormed out. The door slammed shut behind him, the echo lingering in the empty silence—a final, devastating punctuation to the scene, marking the end of everything left unsaid.
The story doesn't end here...
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