Page 51 of Scarbound

Noeul began pacing slowly across the small waiting area, one trembling hand twisting Gong’s ring around the chain at his neck. “Doctor… this can’t keep happening. You don’t understand.” His breathing quickened. “I’m losing my mind. I can’t live like this anymore.” He stopped walking and closed his eyes. “I know…” A tear slid down his cheek. “I feel so dirty. So guilty.” His voice broke. “I should have stopped the sexual abuse. Now it’s too late. I can’t change anything anymore.”

Chung-Hee felt the blood drain from his face. Sexual abuse? His thoughts raced. No. Noeul couldn’t possibly mean… Haneul. His fingers tightened around the paper bags until they crumpled beneath his grip. Noeul had known what Haneul was living through and had done nothing.

The conclusion came too quickly. Some part of Chung-Hee knew he had heard only half a conversation, but doubt threatened the anger that had sustained him for years. He seized the interpretation that allowed him to keep Noeul alive for Haneul while punishing him for the attachment he could no longer deny.

“I almost believed you…” Chung-Hee whispered. His jaw clenched, his breathing growing heavier. For a moment, all he could see was Haneul smiling. Then Haneul crying. Then Noeul laughing, painting, sleeping peacefully in the hospital bed. The images collided inside him.

How could the same man be capable of such tenderness and something so unforgivable? He wanted to storm inside. Demand answers. Make Noeul suffer. Make him feel every ounce of pain Haneul had carried.

Yet his feet refused to move. That was what terrified him most. Keeping Noeul alive felt like a betrayal of Haneul’s memory. Yet the thought of losing him was unbearable.

Without another glance, Chung-Hee stepped away from the doorway. “I’ll make sure you pay for what you did,” he whispered. “Slowly. You’ll feel what my brother felt before he died.” He closed his eyes. “Only then will you earn the peace you’ve been searching for.”

He turned and disappeared down the corridor without revealing his presence.

CHAPTER 24

In the days since his second surgery, neither of them had spoken about what had happened before Noeul collapsed. Chung-Hee brought food, sat beside his bed, and behaved as though the violence had belonged to someone else. Noeul allowed the silence to remain. He needed the help, and part of him wanted to believe this gentler version of Chung-Hee could last.

San had taken care of everything on Chung-Hee’s behalf. After a long discussion, Noeul’s wish to live alone had become reality. Chung-Hee agreed to rent him the studio apartment next to Rei and Han’s.

The arrangement came with conditions.

Noeul had to update Chung-Hee on his condition three or four times a day, answer every phone call whenever possible, and never ignore his messages. It felt excessive, but he was willing to accept those terms for the solitude he desperately needed. Since both his hands were still in poor condition, especially his dominant one, Chung-Hee had also hired a caretaker to help until he regained his independence.

When Noeul stepped into the studio, he stopped.

It wasn’t large, but it immediately felt warm. The apartment was minimalist, modern, and functional, with an open-plan layout that combined the living room, kitchen, and sleeping area into one welcoming space. What caught his attention most were the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city and the nearby park. Even beneath the gray November sky, natural light flooded the room, making it feel surprisingly open.

Rei and Han had already moved his belongings inside. A few boxes still waited to be unpacked, but everything else was ready. He could already picture where his books would go, where he’d place his easel, where he’d sit with a cup of coffee after long hikes.

Noeul couldn’t stop a quiet smile from appearing.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.” Noeul’s eyes drifted back to the windows. “Especially the view. The winter light will look beautiful from here.”

“You won’t be painting anytime soon,” Chung-Hee reminded him. “Your hands need as much rest as possible. Understood?”

Noeul smiled faintly. “I know, hyung. Don’t worry.”

He sat on the sofa, absentmindedly running his fingertips across the soft fabric. “When does the caretaker arrive?”

Without answering immediately, Chung-Hee sat beside him. His hand settled gently over Noeul’s, his fingers tracing slow, absent movements. The tenderness of the gesture didn’t reach his eyes.

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.

Despite everything that had happened between them, Noeul still felt his heartbeat quicken whenever Chung-Hee was this close.

A soft knock broke the moment.

Chung-Hee stood and opened the door.

“Noeul, this is Mr. Choi. He’ll be helping you until you’ve recovered. He’s an experienced caregiver, and San spoke very highly of him.”

Noeul bowed politely. Mr. Choi returned the gesture with the same quiet respect.

Before anyone could say more, Chung-Hee checked his watch. “I have to get back to the company. There’s an important meeting.”