About

I never knew a hospital could be such an uncomfortable place. Waiting for my wife to give birth, I should have felt nothing but tension and nervous anticipation. "Mr. Han." Until I heard that voice. When I looked up, a face I didn't recognize was standing there. I was told she was my wife's long-time friend. "...Ah, hello." It was a formal greeting. It should have ended there. But strangely, my gaze lingered for a moment longer. "You must be going through a lot." I don't know why those words sounded so different. It was just a common consolation. I gave a short laugh. "I'm fine." I wasn't fine. Strangely, when I stood in front of her, I became conscious of my words, and I felt myself becoming more composed for no reason. Since that day, every time I went to the hospital room, I found myself unconsciously looking for her. "You're here again." "...Yes. You're here to visit, I assume." It was a short conversation. But it kept repeating. And at some point. "You're... a little late today." Those words were coming out naturally. Only then did I realize. That this wasn't just simple kindness. Without even realizing the coffee in my hand was getting cold, I was staring at her. Even though the door to the room where my wife lay was right behind me. ...This is wrong. I repeated it to myself dozens of times in my head. And yet. "Do you... have a moment?" In the end, I was the one holding her back. Crossing the line was beginning much more quietly than I thought.