Epilogue 5
Translator: RaidenTL
Epilogue 5
When was the last time she had cried?
It was when Han-byeol had just turned thirteen months old. Yeon-ju had taken her baby out and was heading down the stairs to the subway.
Going out with a child was an ordeal. She had to pack a mountain of supplies and push a portable stroller. The boy would throw a tantrum to be let down to walk, only to throw another one moments later because he was tired of walking. He wanted to be held when she put him down and put down when she held him. He was a little terror who fussed all day, leaving her utterly drained by the time they got home.
A sense of depression had clung to her since that morning, and it didn't lift as she got ready to go out. The first thing she’d done upon waking was search his name—Im Eun-seong—only to find it attached to dating rumors.
It was a scandal with a famous Hollywood actress. A photo of the two of them walking side by side blurred Yeon-ju's exhausted vision.
Those were the days she fought with everything she had just to hold herself together. Han-byeol was at an age of boundless curiosity, driven by an instinct to put absolutely anything in his mouth.
Parenting without any experience was overwhelming, and her worn-out body was in a constant state of lethargy. If she let her guard down for a second, the child would instantly find his way into danger, meaning she couldn't take her eyes off him for a single moment.
It was a time when nothing seemed to go her way.
Even before his agency could release a statement, the media treated the dating rumors as fact. The consensus was that they looked good together. Comments praised Eun-seong for standing shoulder-to-shoulder with a Hollywood star, calling his career trajectory incredible.
She trudged toward the subway platform. Then, her eyes happened to catch her reflection in a mirror on the wall.
Han-byeol had thrown another fit to walk, so she had let him down. The mirror showed a woman pushing a stroller with one hand while holding a toddler with the other. Her hair was a disheveled mess, but with no free hand to tie it back, she’d left it as it was. She wore pants with stretched-out knees, the same comfortable sneakers she wore year-round, and a sweatshirt with a wrinkled, stretched-out collar. Her eyes were hollow and sunken.
The sparkle of youth was gone—
Only the harsh toll of a grueling life was etched onto her face. It was her own face, yet it felt entirely foreign. She stood frozen, staring at the stranger in the mirror.
The photo she had seen that morning showed him looking impossibly handsome and glamorous. The world he occupied felt so distant from her own, making her exhausted heart feel even heavier, filling it with a deep, aching sorrow.
She was staring blankly at the mirror, her eyes lifeless, when it happened.
"Dada?"
At Han-byeol's babble, Yeon-ju turned and looked down. Following his gaze, she saw an advertisement featuring Eun-seong.
...The ground seemed to vanish from beneath her feet, sending her plummeting into an abyss.
"Dada. Dada."
Lately, he had been embarrassing her by calling out "Dada" whenever a tall man walked past. It was a habit he’d picked up after hearing a song about families in a cartoon she sometimes let him watch.
But now, Han-byeol was pointing directly at Eun-seong's photo, repeating, "Dada, Dada, Dada."
Tears suddenly burst from her eyes. It felt as though Eun-seong, posing on the luxury watch billboard, was looking right down at their child. Her chest ached so intensely it felt like it would burst—no, as if it were being squeezed in a vice, as if she might simply dissolve into nothing right there.
"Dada. Dadaaa."
"He's not your dada... That man isn't your dada, Han-byeol..."
"Dada. Dada."
"Why do you keep calling him Dada...? He's not your dada... He's not..."
She broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Passersby cast curious glances her way, but she was in no state to care.
Oblivious to his mother's distress, the child kept babbling the word like a habit. Was the word "Dada" really so wonderful to him? Did he want to say it that badly?
"He's not your dada, no... He's not, Han-byeol..."
Yeon-ju completely fell apart. She crumbled under the weight of the depression that had dogged her since morning, the image of the gorgeous foreign actress who might be his partner, and the stark contrast of her own shabby reality.
Heedless of her surroundings, Yeon-ju clutched Han-byeol's tiny hand and wept, her shoulders shaking. Overwhelmed by the words of a child who couldn't possibly understand their meaning, she stood there for a long time, letting her tears pour out.
After what felt like an eternity, she roughly wiped her tears with a wet wipe from her bag. She took a ragged breath, closed her eyes for a long moment, then opened them.
She stared at Eun-seong's face on the billboard before lowering her gaze to her son.
That day, a fierce, inexplicable resolve took root in her heart. To my son, who looks at your picture with such innocent eyes—I will never pass my misfortune on to him. I will never let him grow up longing for you.
Eun-seong's scandal turned out to be a false report, as they so often were, and the matter was settled once a retraction was published. But after that day, Yeon-ju forgot how to cry. Or rather, she lost the ability entirely.
Those were the last tears she ever shed. Until she met him again.
* * *
Happiness
Taking a long-haul flight for the first time, Han-byeol was completely mesmerized by the foreign land of Hawaii.
He had loved the water ever since he was a baby. He would stop crying the moment he was placed in a bath and throw a fit when it was over because he wanted to stay in longer.
As he grew older, he often visited water parks with his mom, Auntie Hae-young, and his grandmother. To his young eyes, the massive water parks were the ultimate wonderland, quickly becoming his favorite places in the world.
Now ten years old, Han-byeol gasped the moment he set foot in Hawaii, staring wide-eyed at the brilliant sunshine and the dazzling turquoise sea.
His eyes filled with wonder, he kept his gaze glued to the window as they drove along the coast. The sea at Jeju Island, which he had visited a couple of times, was beautiful, but this was a completely different kind of beauty that filled him with pure joy.
From the day they arrived, every day felt like a picnic. A torrent of experiences he had never imagined came rushing toward him. His dad had planned an itinerary perfectly suited for him, introducing him to all sorts of outdoor activities.
They swam until the sun went down. They rode the waves. While snorkeling, they swam alongside vividly colored fish, sea turtles, and dolphins. They danced with the locals and ate slices of pizza as big as Han-byeol's face.
Time flew by. His once-pale face was now deeply tanned, a testament to the hours spent under the sun. As Han-byeol floated in his life jacket and inner tube, he couldn't help but admire his dad, who swam effortlessly through the water without any gear at all.
His dad was good at absolutely everything. He was especially amazing at English. Watching his dad converse effortlessly with foreigners made Han-byeol's heart swell with pride. When I grow up, I want to be a cool, amazing adult just like Dad, the boy thought, painting a picture of his future self.
He wanted to be just like his dad. His dad was so cool—he was tall, handsome, and knew everything. He never scolded Han-byeol for asking silly questions; instead, he would explain things in detail and encourage him to ask even more.
Having grown up in a small family of just his mom and grandmother, Han-byeol was now experiencing a new kind of family, and he felt his dad's presence every single day. Knowing that a Superman-like figure—someone who seemed infinitely strong—was there to protect both him and his mom gave him a profound sense of security.
"All done washing, Han-byeol? Let's get you dried off."
When Han-byeol stepped out of the bathroom, Yeon-ju wrapped him in a large towel and began to dry him.
"You must be cold. The air conditioning feels a bit chilly."
"No, it's nice and cool. I'm fine."
His sun-kissed face looked incredibly healthy. He had been running and swimming so much that he had actually lost weight despite eating more than usual. He had also grown a bit taller.
"Let me dry your hair."
"I'll do it. I have a towel."
When Han-byeol took the towel, insisting on doing it himself, Yeon-ju lowered her hands.
Eun-seong had stepped out of the villa to pick up dinner. As Yeon-ju quietly watched Han-byeol get dressed and dry his hair, she knelt to meet his gaze.
When had this child, who once couldn't do a single thing without her, grown so independent?
"Han-byeol."
"Yeah?"
"Are you happy?"
At his mother's question, Han-byeol looked up. When his innocent face emerged from beneath the towel, Yeon-ju couldn't help but smile.
For some reason, the boy didn't answer right away, instead staring at her thoughtfully. After a brief pause, he spoke.
"Are you happy, Mom?"
Not expecting the question to be turned back on her, Yeon-ju's lips parted slightly. After a moment of hesitant silence, she gave a slightly awkward nod.
Yes. Mom is happy.
She didn't know what her happiness would mean to her son. In Han-byeol's eyes, his mother had always been someone whose entire world revolved around him.
Would he feel like her love had been divided? Would he think that because she now had someone else to love, he had to share the affection he once monopolized?
That was why she was hesitant to even say she was happy. She didn't know how he would feel about his mother finding happiness in someone other than him.
"How happy?"
Another difficult question. Yeon-ju swallowed hard.
She stared at her son for a long moment before speaking. The look in his eyes made it clear that he wasn't trying to corner her; it was a question born of pure, innocent curiosity.
"I think I'm very happy."
"Very?"
"Yes. Very."
When she answered honestly, Han-byeol let out a thoughtful, "Hmm." As Yeon-ju pressed her lips together, waiting tensely, his face lit up with a bright smile, and he nodded.
"Me too. But I'm not just very happy—I'm super, super, super happy, Mom."
The tight thread of tension inside her snapped. A long, shaky breath escaped her lips, and Yeon-ju bowed her head as she let it out.
Han-byeol went back to vigorously drying his hair as if nothing had happened.
"I love traveling with you and Dad. It's so much fun."
"..."
"You know, Mom? I wish we could live like this forever."
"Me too. Mom feels the same way," Yeon-ju replied with a gentle smile. At that, Han-byeol set his towel on the floor and looked at her.
"I also like that Dad is here to protect you, Mom."
Yeon-ju squeezed her eyes shut.
She held her breath, keeping them closed tight.
"I wanted to grow up fast so I could protect you. But now that we have Dad, I think it's okay."
As the crimson glow of the sunset flooded the room, tears welled up in her eyes. Yeon-ju lifted her head and reached out to the blurry figure of her son.
Then, she finally voiced the words she had carried in her heart like a long-overdue confession.
"Han-byeol... Mom has a favor to ask..."
"..."
"Could you... grow up just a little slower?"
It was the first time the boy had ever seen his mother look like this, the first time he had seen her cry.
"You see, it made Mom a little sad. It felt like you were growing up too fast... like you were trying to grow up too fast... and that made my heart ache so much..."
"..."
"You, Han-byeol... you should just be loved, throw tantrums, and do whatever you want. You're allowed to do that. You're allowed to live like that. You can take your time growing up..."
Having learned to read the room without anyone ever teaching him, the boy was incredibly mature for his age. He had always avoided doing anything that might upset his mother. Even at an age when self-control should have been difficult, he already knew how to empathize with her and feel her pain.
He had wanted to skip childhood and adolescence to become an adult in the blink of an eye—an adult who could wrap his mother in a warm, protective embrace.
"Mom, are you crying?"
As her tears began to fall, Han-byeol looked at her with a startled expression. Yeon-ju quickly wiped them away and forced a smile.
"Mom is just cleaning out her heart right now..."
"Ah, cleaning. Right! My acting coach said that sometimes you have to cry to clean your heart out. So you're cleaning yours now too, Mom?"
Yeon-ju bit her lower lip and nodded. She didn't know when she had become so prone to crying, but ever since she had let her tears flow again, they seemed to well up at the slightest provocation.
Without a moment's hesitation, Han-byeol reached out and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Then, just as she had always done for him, he cupped her face in his small hands and looked at her with deep warmth.
"Okay, Mom. I'll grow up slowly. I don't really know how to do that, but I'll try. I won't wish to grow up fast anymore. Don't worry."
Don't worry.
The boy's words bloomed like a flower in her chest.
Her face still wet with tears, Yeon-ju smiled brightly and cupped her son's face. With the son holding his mother's face and the mother holding her son's, they shared a single, perfect happiness.
Mom, I'm happy.
Yes. Mom is happy, too.