Paper Toads and a Hundred Roses | Lee Sung Kyung & Nam Joo Hyuk

23. Return

The fragments that made up the imminent face of my reality tears itself to tinier shreds even before I had the time to realize it. The words float around in my head as my hands clench though in quiet prayer that what has been said is not at all true. "Dead?" was the only word that came from my lips, trembling and unsteady. My voice was barely above a gentle whisper as the room grew silent, all eyes-all ears diverted and attentive which fuels the fire residing within me. It angers me how they learned to love tragedy. So I walked.

I walked.

Then I ran.

And I didn't stop.

All the shouts that called for my name grew distant and dark and hollow like it's all coming from the other end of a tunnel to nowhere. I wanted the tears to flow and the sobs to wrack my body but I found myself devoid of emotions. There was loathing and regret capturing my veins in enormous waves of resounding confusion just flowing through the invisible lines that connect me to everything else. The moment I saw that letter on the kitchen counter, I knew that the consequences of being able to tell the truth will come to chase after me like freight trains fueled and swift.

By the time I got outside of the building, more cameras come flashing at my face. My heels were abandoned somewhere and my hands are still shaking. Anxiety builds and my breath grows shorter with each passing second. I look from left to right, drowning in the shouting, the clicking and the palpitating vein that grows to nearly burst within the side of my neck. "Why are all of you like this?" It came out in a whisper as I eye each person behind the blinding flashes, Bo Gum's face being all that occupies every corner of my brain.

Sure, I didn't love him. But somewhere along the timeline of what has become of my life, he made me happy.

"Sung Kyung!" Joo Hyuk's voice cuts through the deafening silence that's slowly driving me along the edges of insanity. I could've ran faster. I could've gone farther. But I didn't. Because for some reason, his voice made my feet cold and frozen-glued to the ground. "Sung Kyung," he calls again, nearing, stretching his arms out like wings ready to shield me from whatever might've attempted to hurt me-and he did. All thoughts flew and I was left in the void. How is this supposed to feel like? Do I even remember? "Come back to me," he whispers once more.

For weeks, I have missed this man, pined for him at every turn. Yet after everything he hid from me, I'm not so sure. Have I ever been sure at all? Though when he pulled away and looked at me with eyes that exhibit sadness and regret, eyes that are telling me that we've gone through every hurdle and we'll get through this one all the same, I knew that he hid things from me because he was worried that I would have the same reaction as I'm having now. And after a long time, I finally understood. So I melted, I yielded and gave in to the warmth that runs all over his chest as I rest my head on it and just cry.

I have been an empty woman.

But I've changed.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I'm sorry," I repeat. "I'm so sorry," and I'll do it over and over again if it means that he'll forgive me like all the other times before. I've grown shameless to this man's heart most especially when he's always there offering it to me, bloodied and scared. I forgot to think about how he might've been feeling when fate threatened us all those times before.

"It's alright," he whispers against my ear as my tearful eyes remain closed, ignoring all the noise outside our little circle of warmth. "We have a lot to talk about,"

"Yes, you do," a mocking voice pulls away from the mist that we were trying to hide in as I turn to find the smirk that made my teeth clench together. We look at her and to the public, this may seem like a picture of grief where people from the industry are just coming along to comfort me for the death of a dear friend. But then, the cameras don't get to see the irking expression on her face right now.

"Seohyun," I spit it out like venom.

"Sungkyung," she calls back while inspecting her fingernails like she expected this entire situation to happen.

"I think we better take this inside," Joohyuk whispers against my ear as I nod and turn to go back in without even checking if she's coming.

She wants something.

She so clearly does.

By the time we step inside an empty room, I turn to look at her with accusing eyes though I refused to ask what I was afraid to hear the answer to, She looks so sure of herself-so confident that nothing in the world will be able to prove anything in case she really did something wrong.

"What do you want, Seohyun?" Joohyuk asks as soon as the door closed.

"I've made it obvious so many times," she answers eyes scanning both of our faces. "He left you, Joohyuk. Why are you still with her?"

"Because I knew she didn't leave me without a reason," he answered like a flash of lightning and it made me believe him. "Sungkyung's not stupid. Why are you even here?"

"You figured it out," she diverted her attention to me, speculative eyes and clenching fists. "How?"

"About the part where the child's yours or the part where you killed Bo Gum?"

"I did't kill him!"

"Then why are you so defensive?" I ask, silently thanking Joohyuk for asking the question I was so afraid of. If this woman did kill him, then I might just explode of anger.

"He brought it on himself. He killed himself," she paused to look at me. "Because of you."

"Stop," I whisper, the beating of my heart accelerating with every word that leaves her lips.

"If you didn't leave him in the first place, he wouldn't have the desire to go at such lengths just to get you back," she slowly steps towards me. "You killed him."

"Shut up," I look at her sharply. "Don't try to guilt me into this. I'm a victim all the same."

"Sure, tell yourself that."

"I know you killed him," I looked at her face, trying to gauge a reaction that might tell me she did. I looked at every crevice but her face remained expressionless. She knows something. She did something. I'm sure of it.

"It's true," she said. "That girl is my daughter. But I never wanted her because she's...psychologically challenged." No trace of remorse could be seen on her face. "So I kept her in the hospital. Father didn't mind because he knew she was gonna be a disgrace to the family name adding in the fact that I had her out of wedlock."

"You crazy bitch," I whisper with all the anger I have for her. How could she do this to such an innocent child?

"Thank you," she gives a smile so sinister before her expression reverts. "Now," she begins, sitting on the couch. "Are we gonna stand here like this all day or shall we talk about what I really want?"