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# Chapter 1
Today, my wife died.
Or maybe it was yesterday.
Maybe it was a year ago.
Maybe it was two years ago.
"Actor Kang Jihoo! Please look this way!"
Camera flashes erupted from every direction.
"Actor Kang Jihoo! Following your Cheonsang Arts Awards win, you're now the leading candidate for Best Actor at the Baekryong Film Awards. How do you feel right now?"
"Director Wes Anderson officially reached out to you this time. Should we expect your Hollywood debut soon?"
"Many people say your unique acting method wouldn't suit Hollywood. What do you think about that?"
"Actor Kang Jihoo! Please give us just one answer!"
"Actor Kang Jihoo!"
"Kang Jihoo!"
There was only one person like her.
No matter whether I lived twice, three times, or a hundred lifetimes, she would have been the only one who ever loved me without reservation.
That's why her death always felt as vivid as if it had happened today.
It was happening in real time.
It never ended.
"Actor Kang Jihoo! People are already predicting you'll win Best Actor at next year's Cannes Film Festival. How do you feel?"
"...How do I feel?"
Faced with the reporter's relentless question, I barely managed a smile.
It wasn't because I was happy.
"I feel like I'm living in hell every single day."
---
[ After sweeping the Cheonsang Arts Awards, Kang Jihoo dominates the Baekryong Film Awards as well. Will he sweep every domestic award this year? ]
[ Another 'one-second acceptance speech.' Anonymous industry insider criticizes him: "His behavior undermines the prestige of the ceremony." ]
└ [ Veteran actor Lee Gonhae remarks, "He's caught Hollywood fever. As a Korean actor, he should have a greater sense of responsibility." ]
[ Kang Jihoo finally addresses the controversy surrounding his acceptance speeches. "It's not something that matters much to me." His statement sparks heated debate. ]
Thud.
I tossed my phone onto the sofa.
Kang Jihoo controversy.
Kang Jihoo scandal.
Kang Jihoo.
Kang Jihoo.
Every entertainment article was about Kang Jihoo.
Yet all of it felt completely unrelated to me.
More accurately, they were stories about me, but stories that no longer meant anything.
'Is there any liquor left?'
I crossed the living room and entered my study.
Scattered across the floor were the trophies I'd won throughout my acting career, scripts that had been read so many times they could hardly be called books anymore, and the English textbooks and earphones I'd carried everywhere while dreaming of making it to Hollywood.
Things I once believed were the reason I lived.
Things I mistakenly thought were my entire world.
I walked past them and opened a drawer.
Fortunately... or perhaps unfortunately.
There was a half-empty bottle of whiskey.
I reached for it.
"Huh?"
As I pulled out the bottle, the picture frame hidden behind it tipped forward.
Crash!
It hit the floor and shattered into countless pieces.
"..."
The photograph had landed face down, but I didn't need to see it to know what it was.
It was almost the only trace of warmth left in this house.
I considered getting a broom, but instead reached down and picked up the frame with my bare hands, glass shards and all.
"Ugh."
A piece of glass sliced into my hand.
"...Don't be so dramatic."
It was a deep cut.
No, it was worse than that.
Tiny shards had lodged themselves all over my hand.
But compared to the pain Hana had endured...
This was nothing.
After brushing away the larger pieces of glass, I returned to the sofa where I'd thrown my phone and quietly looked at the picture frame.
In the photograph was Hana from twenty years ago.
Back then, before she married me, she stood beside me with her arm linked through mine, smiling brightly.
Yeah.
That was my wife.
My one and only wife, Hana.
She always smiled like that.
"..."
I shouldn't pretend this hurt.
Compared to the pain Hana had suffered...
This was nothing.
I had no right to complain.
"Ugh..."
No matter how many times I repeated those words to myself, as if trying to brainwash myself, the pain stabbing through my chest forced a groan out of me.
The Hana who had smiled so radiantly...
Was no longer in this world.
Because of me.
She spent her entire life sacrificing herself for someone who knew nothing except acting.
And in the end...
She died.
That truth didn't merely pierce my heart.
It tore it apart.
"Ugh... Haa..."
Hana's smiling face in the picture gradually blurred.
Drip.
Drip.
Tears.
Pathetic, miserable tears.
They fell onto her smiling face.
"It wasn't your fault, honey."
If she could see me now...
That's what she would say.
Just like when her family abandoned her because she married me.
Just like when she ran everywhere trying to clean up the messes I'd made.
Just like when she neglected her own health while supporting me, only to learn she didn't have much time left to live.
"I'm sorry."
Those were the words I should have said back then.
"It was my fault. I'm so sorry, Hana."
Words that had long since lost all meaning.
I forced them out, one syllable at a time, each one weighed down by regret.
"I could finally treat you right now..."
Sometimes you only realize how precious something was after you've lost it.
Sometimes you only begin to miss someone after they're gone.
To me...
That person was Hana.
"If I could turn back time..."
Like longing for light after being swallowed by darkness.
Like longing for warmth in the dead of winter.
"If I could just see you one more time..."
I wouldn't ask for anything else.
If I could see Hana just once more.
Just once.
No more.
No less.
If only I could meet her one last time.
If that were possible...
I'd do anything.
I'd even give up acting, the thing I'd believed was my entire life.
The moment that thought crossed my mind—
Click.
As though someone had flipped a power switch...
Everything suddenly went dark.
"...?"
It didn't feel like a blackout.
It wasn't that the room had become dark.
It felt as though my senses themselves had shut down.
An endless, pitch-black darkness filled my vision, as if I had lost the ability to see altogether.
Click.
Click.
Even in my confusion, my remaining senses began switching off one after another.
I couldn't see anything.
I couldn't hear anything.
I couldn't feel anything.
'Am I dying?'
For some reason, that was my first thought.
Ever since Hana passed away, I'd drowned myself in alcohol every day.
Maybe this was inevitable.
At the same time...
'Does that mean I can finally see Hana again?'
That thought crossed my mind as well.
I didn't know whether an afterlife existed.
But if heaven and hell weren't separated...
Maybe I could meet her again.
If that was the case...
Then perhaps dying now wasn't such a bad thing after all.
"...Honey?"
How much time had passed?
"...Jihoo? Kang Jihoo!"
A familiar voice suddenly echoed beside my ear.
Then—
Flash!
As if someone had flipped the power back on, my sight and every other sense returned all at once.
"Are you okay? You're not sick, are you?"
"...Hana?"
Hana.
Yoo Hana.
"It's really you... isn't it?"
"Huh? W-What's wrong with you?"
The only light in my life.
The only warmth I had ever known.
The one and only person who meant everything to me...
Was standing right in front of me.