The Omen of Misfortune
Unhappiness arrives without warning.
And like a chain reaction, like dust clumping together, it comes in relentless waves.
I thought the tidal wave of tragedy that had crashed over us was finally over.
But I was wrong.
My wife’s narcolepsy was nothing more than the first faint ripple signaling the approach of misfortune.
“Narcolepsy?”
My wife’s bewildered voice echoed through the consultation room.
I sat beside her, equally stunned, my mind struggling to process what we’d just heard.
The doctor looked at us with the gentle, practiced smile of someone who had delivered this news many times before, as if trying to reassure us.
“Yes. I suspect your wife is suffering from narcolepsy. We’ll need additional tests to confirm the diagnosis, of course.”
“W-what exactly do you mean by… narcolepsy…”
I spoke up on behalf of my wife, Lee Hyeon-ju, who was too flustered to form words, her mouth opening and closing helplessly.
The doctor, clearly accustomed to this reaction from couples, continued in a calm yet authoritative tone, explaining the condition.
“So, to summarize… you’re saying it’s a disease where she falls asleep regardless of her own will, at any time?”
At my wife’s hesitant question, the doctor nodded matter-of-factly, as though he had repeated this explanation dozens, even hundreds of times.
“That’s correct. It’s one of the hallmark symptoms of narcolepsy.”
“Then… even if she looks like she’s dead, she won’t wake up no matter how much you shake her?”
“It varies from person to person and depends on severity, but yes, that is entirely possible.”
“Ah…”
A hollow, desolate sigh escaped my wife’s lips.
I understood exactly how devastated she must feel.
A rare disease with no established cure…
I vaguely remembered hearing about narcolepsy before. It occasionally appeared in the media, but I had no idea it was a rare condition with no proper treatment and wildly varying symptoms depending on the individual.
The realization that my wife had contracted such a rare illness left me in a daze, unable to grasp the reality of it.
My mind knew I should comfort her—she was suffering far more than I was—but I couldn’t find the right words to soothe the woman I loved. The misfortune that had struck her left me speechless.
“We can discuss the details after the additional tests. Since symptoms vary so greatly from person to person, it’s best not to become too frightened. That will actually help with managing the condition.”
“Y-yes…”
“Thank you, Doctor…”
Even the doctor’s calm advice barely registered.
By the time the consultation ended and we scheduled her hospitalization for further testing at the reception desk, I still hadn’t come back to my senses.
When I finally forced my dreamlike stupor to clear, we were sitting side by side on a bench in the park.
The brilliant sunlight poured down warmly, and the breeze that brushed past us was refreshingly cool.
The clear, innocent laughter of children playing in one corner of the park had the power to wash away worry and anxiety just by listening to it.
It was an impossibly beautiful day, yet none of that lovely scenery reached my eyes. It all felt faded and distant.
“Oppa…”
My wife’s weak voice pulled me back.
My slackened mind snapped taut like a whip, and I jolted upright.
I quickly turned to look at her. A woman lost in anxiety was staring at me with desperate eyes.
“Ah… uh, yeah. Hyeon-ju. I’m sorry. I guess I was a little shocked too. What were we talking about?”
I swallowed my own panic and tightly clasped her hand so she wouldn’t feel more afraid.
The warmth I felt from her palm was damp with tension, and her fingers tangled with mine as if seeking something to hold onto.
I squeezed our interlocked hands firmly, trying to take on even a little of her anxiety.
Only then did a faint but relieved smile bloom on her lips.
“I’m sorry.”
The sudden apology tumbled from her mouth.
The heavy guilt and remorse in her voice made my heart sink.
I understood why she was apologizing, even if I didn’t want to.
“Sorry for what? Don’t say that.”
I gently stroked the corners of her eyes, where tears were beginning to pool, and comforted her with tender care.
She’s at an age where she should be working hard, and we’ve only been married for two years. There must be so many things weighing on her mind.
We were a young couple, still practically newlyweds, entering our second year of marriage.
I was a recent graduate in my early thirties, just beginning my career, and my wife was in her late twenties, a few years younger than me.
In short, we had barely built any foundation yet, but we were at that awkward age where we had to stand on our own two feet.
The anxiety of possibly wasting the most important period of her life must have been crushing her.
That was why I tried to sound as casual as possible.
“It’s going to be fine. They said the severity varies from person to person, right? It probably won’t be that bad. And at least now we know what it is, don’t we?”
When we were dating, I had known that she would sometimes fall into a death-like sleep.
I had simply brushed it off, thinking she must have been tired or that her body was just temporarily out of sorts.
Since she herself hadn’t made a big deal of it, it was even harder for me—an outsider at the time—to notice anything suspicious.
But after we got married, things changed.
Hyeon-ju. Are you asleep?
……
Living together meant I witnessed her falling into those death-like slumbers far more often, and up close.
At first, I was so shocked I nearly called an ambulance.
No matter how much I shook her, she wouldn’t wake. No matter how loudly I shouted, she wouldn’t stir. I even slapped her cheek, and still there was no response.
When those episodes kept repeating, it felt wrong, so we visited hospital after hospital trying to find the cause.
But no clear cause or diagnosis ever came.
Only frustrating days without any answers continued.
Now, at least, we knew what illness she was suffering from. It was a milestone, a starting point.
“R-right? Yeah. I’m sorry. At least we know it’s a real illness. I was just a little anxious, that’s all.”
My wife seemed to be trying to lift her own spirits, answering me with forced cheerfulness in response to my comforting words.
The corners of her eyes, which had been slightly drooping with a strangely seductive charm, curved into gentle crescents as she smiled with her eyes.
Her peach-colored lips, which had been trembling with unease, drew a faint line and formed a thin smile.
I leaned in and lightly kissed those delicious, fruit-like lips of hers, sharing in her anxiety.
“Oppa! How can you kiss me here? What if someone sees?”
“Come on, it was just a light kiss. Besides, this much skinship is totally normal these days.”
She scolded me in a chiding tone, but she didn’t seem to mind at all.
She released our clasped hands, slowly stood up, and stood in front of me. Then, suddenly, she called my name clearly and deliberately.
“Choi Ji-hoon.”
“Yeah?”
The serious way she addressed me by my full name instead of her usual affectionate “Oppa” made me a little nervous.
Usually, she only did that when she was angry with me.
But the moment I saw her face, I realized my assumption was wrong.
The loving gaze she fixed on me and the soft smile on her lips washed away my worries as she made her confession.
“I love you. And thank you.”
It was a calm, quiet voice, but the power behind that declaration of love melted the tension that had stiffened my body like ice in the sun.
I drank in the sight of the woman I loved, standing beneath the brilliant sunlight.
Her black hair was tied up and draped forward, a style that only enhanced her serene beauty.
Her flawless, spotless skin seemed to glow even more brightly today, and the small mole beneath her lips was so captivating that my eyes were drawn to it without conscious effort.
“Gulp…”
She wore a cardigan the color of bright forsythia blossoms over a pure white dress. The way it clung to her body, revealing every curve, made saliva pool in my mouth before I could stop it.
The swell of her breasts above the dress was an impossible-to-hide volume that demanded attention, while the smooth line of her waist stirred an urge to run my hands along it.
Her well-developed hips and ripe, full bottom carried a subtle sensuality that awakened dark, primal desires—the urge to grab them tightly and squeeze.
Her two legs extending from beneath the snowy-white dress looked as soft as cream, making me imagine how they would yield and sink beneath the slightest pressure of my fingers.
A flower who appeared modest and pure on the outside, yet possessed a body so voluptuous and ripe it could drive any man wild with lust.
That was my wife, Lee Hyeon-ju.
“Lee Hyeon-ju. I love you too.”
It felt a little embarrassing to call her by her full name, but I answered her anxious confession with all the sincerity I could muster.
Then I pulled her into my arms—the beautiful, dangerous flower I never wanted anyone else to take from me.
Her body, embraced tightly, was incredibly soft, overflowing with such maternal warmth and embrace that I almost wanted to act spoiled against her.
The vanilla scent she always wore wrapped around me as if to soothe my desires indirectly.
Just breathing in that gentle, comforting fragrance calmed my restless heart and brought a wave of relief.
“It’s going to be okay. We’ll get through this.”
“Yeah. I’ll only believe in you, Oppa.”
Just like always, we repeated the vague yet certain promise to each other.
That everything would work out. That our future would be happy.
All without knowing that this was merely the first ripple before a tidal wave named misfortune came crashing down.