Faceless

III. A fareweel ?

 In the following days, I followed a routine. I changed the water for the flowers, played music for him, studied, ate during his physiotherapy sessions, read to him, updated the recording on my mp3 player, and then went home. His beard was more visible now, but despite that, I still found him handsome. I could gaze at him for hours without getting bored. I could probably reproduce every one of his facial expressions from memory. He had two small moles on his right ear and another one on his neck. I was almost certain he had a tattoo on his right shoulder. Initially, I thought it was another bruise, but no, it was definitely a tattoo. I didn't dare ask the physiotherapist. My kiss on his cheek had also become a ritual. I resisted taking a photo of him.

On the fourth day, he had an MRI, and they told me that, given his brain activity, he was likely to wake up soon. I was overjoyed. His family was supposed to arrive the next day. How wonderful it would be if he woke up before that.

"Did you hear? You're almost out of the woods! And your family will be here tomorrow. You won't need me anymore. I'm happy for you. Nevertheless, let's finish the book I started. You must be eager to know what happens next."

That night, I stayed until midnight. I completed the recording with the names of the books I had read to him and with my wishes for a speedy recovery:

"My dear friend, for this final message, I'll speak to you informally, and I hope you won't mind, even though I'm younger than you. I hope I didn't make too many mistakes in my recordings; my Korean is a bit rusty. I've had a unique week in your company, and I'll never forget it. You were my first real patient, after all. We might never see each other again, so let me tell you that I find you truly handsome. Take care of yourself, recover fully, and thank you for being alive. Sincerely, Iana."

I wanted to say my goodbyes differently. Would I dare to kiss him? Was it wrong to kiss someone who couldn't object? I felt awkward yet impatient. I touched his lips with my finger, as I did when I moistened them, and I lightly kissed the corner of his mouth. He flinched, and I let out a small cry. But he didn't wake up. Ashamed, I gathered my things and said goodbye.

I handed the mp3 player to the nurse on duty, reminding her that I would appreciate being notified by SMS if he woke up before his family arrived.

"Little sister, I don't understand why you don't want to meet his family. They should be grateful to the person who saved their son, and don't tell me you're not dying to see the color of his eyes."

"What if they're furious to learn that a student dared to treat their son instead of waiting for professional help? Besides, tomorrow, I have exams all day, so I'll have to wait anyway."

"There's something you're not telling me. What are you really afraid of?"

"Nothing, you're imagining things."

"You fell in love with your first patient, you fantasized about him while he couldn't speak, and you're afraid of reality?"

"No, you're talking nonsense. In love, and what else? Fascinated, maybe attracted, but that's it."

"Little sister, you cared for him like a devoted wife for almost a week; it's only natural that you became attached to him. Plus, he's your first patient. But I still think it's a shame. It would be normal for your efforts to be recognized and to see him awake and recovering."

"You're right; I'll visit him the day after tomorrow and introduce myself to his family."

The next day, I realized that I had left my phone behind. I was running late, so I focused on my exam for the day. I probably forgot it at home. At the end of the day and after searching my entire room, I realized I no longer had my phone. What a disaster! It was too late to go to the hospital; I would buy a new phone tomorrow. Plus, I had to block my SIM card and wait before I could unblock it.

"Miss, my colleague called you yesterday, but you didn't answer. The patient woke up in the morning, before his mother and uncle arrived, and he was quite agitated, so we gave him your mp3 player. Then we were able to communicate through gestures and a bit of French. He asked for you, but you weren't reachable. The family left an envelope for you. Here it is."

Joy and frustration mixed in my heart. He had woken up, he was fine, and he had asked for me. I took the envelope without looking at it and headed to his room. But he wasn't there anymore. Surprised, I went back to the reception.

"Where is the Korean patient?"

"He left last night to be flown back to Korea in a medical plane. His family had already made all the arrangements; we were just waiting for him to wake up. He will recover there. We won't see him again. They bought flowers and chocolates to thank all the staff who took care of him. He seemed happy and relieved to be surrounded by familiar faces."

Oh no, I had missed him! And I would never see him again. I sat down and opened the envelope. Inside, there was a handwritten note in Korean and a business card:

"Miss,

I apologize for not knowing your name and addressing you in such an impersonal manner. I would have liked to express my gratitude to you in person, but the nurses couldn't reach you, and we must already return to Korea. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for saving my son. I wish you much success in your future medical career, and please accept some money as a token of our appreciation. I would prefer that you not contact us further because my son is already traumatized enough, and I want him to forget this unfortunate experience as soon as possible and rebuild himself. I am certain you will understand. Please call Mr. Choi at the consulate, and he will give you the money. Sincerely, a grateful mother."

Money and a polite yet cold letter, that was all. Filled with sadness and anger, I wanted to tear the paper, but I changed my mind and left the hospital. I called Mr. Choi and explained that I didn't want the money. Instead, I asked for help finding a long-term Korean language internship. He promised his full support and warmly recommended me to the Korean Cultural Center, ensuring I would be a priority whenever they hired students.

"Iana, don't be sad. This money will be like a scholarship when you go to Korea; it would be silly not to accept it. And you never know what the future holds for you. Look at me; I just found Wonbin."

"Yes, I'm happy for you, but I'm not even sure if I want to see him again. What could I say to him? Hi, I saved you once, kissed you while you were unconscious, and found you handsome; so, are you buying me a meal?"

"You kissed him, you little pervert! Is that what you were hiding from me? Well, that will remain a fond memory. Go on, fighting!"

For several months, I often thought about him. I wondered if he had fully recovered and if he had resumed a normal life. I secretly felt happy because he had taken my mp3 player with him. The simple fact that he had listened to my voice at least once filled me with joy. I had been there for him when he woke up, after all, and I had been of some use to him.