I press play, holding the phone to my ear.
“Jin, it’s me again,” she begins, sounding significantly more strained. As if she’s trying to hold back tears. “I know you’re... I don’t know where you are, but Dr. Gong called. She found something in my bloodwork she doesn’t recognize. She needs me to come back to the hospital for more tests. I’m heading there now with my mom and Sang-cheol. Please... please call me back. I love you.”
The message ends even before the beep, trailing off into eerie silence.
I take a second longer to register what she’s said, slowly lowering the phone from my ear.
Something in her bloodwork? More tests? Back to the hospital?
Monroe isn’t at home like I’ve anticipated. She’s at the hospital.
“Change of plans,” I say, leaning forward so sharply that my side throbs with more fiery pain. “Busan St. Mary’s Hospital. Take me now!”
The driver glances at me in the rearview mirror as if to argue, then once again seems to realize I won’t be taking no for an answer. He presses down on the accelerator and whips the car around in the direction of the hospital.
It’s only a few minutes later that we’re braking outside the main entrance, and I’m bolting from the back door.
People in the hospital lobby gasp and stare as I rush past, the pain now totally numbed due to my sense of urgency. A mother pulls her child closer, shielding him from the sight of me while an elderly man in a wheelchair watches with wide, horrified eyes.
Predictably, a nurse attempts to intercept me, face pale and concerned. “Sir, you need medical attention. You’re bleeding?—”
I shove past her without a word.
The maternity ward. Third floor. I’ve been here many times before, including the day I showed up late for the gender reveal appointment.
Though it’s only three levels up, the elevator takes too damn long. I count the seconds, experiencing a different kind of agony from the gaping hole in my side.
The instant the doors are parting, I’m breaking into a sprint, dashing down the corridor to find Dr. Gong’s exam room.
I burst through the door, ready to demand answers, but also desperate to take Monroe in my arms and promise her that it’ll be okay.
I’m here now and I’m sorry I wasn’t here before, but we’ll face whatever it is together.
But only a couple steps into the room, I stop short.
The entire room is loud with silence. It’s immediately jarring, making me freeze mid-step.
Dr. Gong stands by the exam table, her expression different than her usual pleasant warmth. In the corner by the window is Monroe’s mother, tissues crumpled in her hands as her shoulders shake with silent sobs.
And then there’s Monroe—my rabbit sits on the edge of the hospital bed in a thin gown, unnaturally still as if in deep shock. Her usual glow, the light she normally has, is nowhere to be found.
When she looks up and her glassy eyes meet mine, I know.
The truth crashes down on me all at once, even without words. The silence and wounded look in her eyes speak for us.
The baby is gone.
16.Monroe
A month later…
I wake up alone.
Again.
Jin’s side of the bed is cold, the sheets straight and unrumpled. I reach out and press my palm to his pillow as if I can feel him. As if he’s right here with me and there isn’t an empty space next to me.
Instead, the cold chill from the untouched pillow runs straight through me.
