Actually, It’s a Messy Melodrama Chapter 54

The hospital room Sunghee was admitted to was spacious and clean, even for a private room. It didn’t seem like an ordinary hospital room.

Until now, Sunghee had lived her life without even knowing such nice hospital rooms existed. A short while ago, she had even met the caregiver who was supposed to look after her.

Actually, Sunghee wanted to ask. Where on earth did you get the money for such a nice room? She had a mountain of questions, like what was with the caregiver.

And the hospital was so big. Even to Sunghee’s unknowing eyes, this hospital didn’t seem like a place just anyone could enter. To be admitted to a place like this for tests and even surgery. She couldn’t even begin to guess how much money it would cost. It was definitely not an amount her son could afford.

However, Sunghee couldn’t bring herself to ask. She couldn’t outright ask where the money came from, how he had earned such a large sum.

Because she was scared. She was scared to find out what sacrifices her son might have made to cure the illness of a mother who had been nothing but a burden her whole life.

“Hk… Heuk…”

Finally, the tears she had been holding back burst forth. She couldn’t stand the disgust she felt for her own selfish heart. The words “I’m scared” didn’t just contain the meaning of being afraid to face her son’s sacrifice. Surprisingly, Sunghee was afraid of death.

If she couldn’t get proper treatment, all that was left for her was to end her life painfully with cancer. She had thought she no longer had any greed for her wretched life, but once she found out she was sick, fear suddenly rushed in.

Though her breathing days were filled with pain, Sunghee could not feel the approaching death as a form of rest. She didn’t want to greet even death as an unhappy trial.

It would have been better if she had found out when treatment was impossible. Sunghee genuinely thought so. Then she could have given up on life more easily.

But the fact that she could live if she received treatment, thanks to the early discovery, made Sunghee’s heart feel shabby. That’s why she couldn’t bring herself to ask her son. If she didn’t know, she wouldn’t know, but if she found out, she wouldn’t be able to receive treatment in her right mind.

Lacking the shamelessness to simply accept the devotion of a son who had clearly used abnormal methods, yet also lacking the courage to die, Sunghee simply hid by not asking anything. It was a sorrowful selfishness.

☂️

“Hey, Cha Haeshin!”

“Yes? Ah, yes? Did you call me?”

Taejun frowned at Haeshin’s uncharacteristically flustered appearance. He was so deep in thought that he didn’t hear him call several times, and now he was acting like this.

“Yeah, you. What are you thinking about so hard? A person calls you and you don’t even know.”

“Ah, I’m sorry. Do you need something?”

“I don’t need anything, but what were you thinking about?”

Taejun asked again. He had no intention of letting it go. There was no need to know every single one of someone else’s thoughts, but Haeshin’s expression while lost in thought had looked overly serious. It was a face anyone could see was full of worries and concerns.

“I wasn’t thinking about anything special.”

“No. You’re definitely worried about something.”

“Sir, can you read minds now too?”

“There you go, changing the subject again.”

Faced with a Taejun who wouldn’t be easily swayed, Haeshin let out a weak laugh as if he couldn’t help it. In truth, it was a story there was no need to hide. For Taejun, it would be a trivial concern anyway.

Haeshin opened his mouth with the intention of just venting.

“Are you on good terms with your mother, sir?”

Even in wealthy families, discord with parents is bound to exist. Normally, Han Taejun’s and Cha Haeshin’s categories of worries would rarely overlap, but in a problem like this, they might unexpectedly find common ground. Just as a small sense of anticipation bloomed in Haeshin’s heart, Taejun answered.

“Of course. There’s no one in my family who dislikes me.”

“Ah…”

Haeshin’s mouth fell open. Well, of course, that was possible, and for Taejun, that was a more natural situation. If he received all the love from the chairman, why wouldn’t he be able to receive love from his parents?

However, the expression on Han Taejun’s face as he answered with wide eyes was the very an idea of a rich young master who knew nothing of the world, and it left him speechless.

In reality, Taejun wasn’t a young master who knew nothing of the world, but his expression was so innocent that it almost seemed to lack social skills. In a word, it was annoying.

“Well, yes, I’m sure you are…”

Haeshin bowed his head and whispered, almost like a ventriloquist. He was a fool for having expectations of the third-generation chaebol Han Taejun. But Han Taejun, whose hearing was sharp only at times like this, reacted immediately.

“Hey, did you just say, ‘I’m sure you are’?”

“Oh my, you heard me?”

“This guy, really…”

Towards the utterly dumbfounded Taejun, Haeshin just gave a vacant “Heh” laugh out of habit. Taejun usually couldn’t get angrier at Haeshin when he had that expression. The saying “you can’t spit on a smiling face” was a perfect fit.

This time too, after seeing Haeshin’s smiling face and muttering “Good grief” repeatedly, Taejun spoke again.

“Stop beating around the bush and just tell me. Did you fight with your mother?”

“I wish we had at least fought.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just… my mom and I, we don’t fight or do anything at all. It’s not that we don’t cherish each other, but it’s just, just like we’re people who have been separated our whole lives and are meeting for the first time, every time.”

Only then did Taejun’s expression turn serious as well.

“I can’t imagine Cha Haeshin being like that.”

“That’s what I’m saying. Even if my dead dad came back to life, I could act affectionately if necessary, you know?”

In fact, Haeshin was currently acting nonchalantly towards Jin Youngmin, the man who had killed him several times, calling him “Director, Director.”

“But why can’t I do that with my own mom? The conversations I have with my mom are all just superficial words. Did you eat, did you sleep well, are you feeling okay.”

Taejun listened quietly to Haeshin’s words. The fierce life that Haeshin and his mother had lived was a time that Taejun couldn’t even dare to try to understand, but instead, Taejun had his own form of empathy.

“When I was young, I resented my mom a little, but I don’t have those feelings anymore… I don’t know why it’s so hard to close the distance.”

After finishing his words, Haeshin let out a long breath. He hadn’t gotten a particular answer, but just being able to confess frankly to someone seemed to alleviate some of his frustration.

Honestly, this was not a problem that Taejun could solve for him, no matter how much money and ability he had, so Haeshin had planned to end the conversation by thanking him for listening before he became uncomfortable.

“You’ve never actually had a proper conversation with your mother, have you?”

But Taejun, unexpectedly, spoke with a serious expression.

“You’ve never opened up and talked about what you and your mother went through after your father died, have you? Right?”

“That’s…! Um, yes. That’s right. There’s no need to bring up painful memories.”

“That’s why.”

Haeshin wore a blank expression at Taejun’s following words. A bitter smile touched Taejun’s lips.

There was a time when Taejun was so sick of this regression that he had lived recklessly, literally. He had disappointed and hurt the people around him by saying and doing things he would never have done otherwise.

Each time, those who cared for Taejun tried their best to talk to him. They begged him to tell them what was wrong, what was so hard, and desperately wished they could be of help to Taejun.

However, even with the people he loved so much in front of him, Taejun couldn’t say a word. The root of Taejun’s problem was this curse-like regression, and since he couldn’t talk about that, he couldn’t talk about other things either.

It’s so hard I feel like I’m going to die. No, I want to die. It’s painful. I’m lonely and in despair.

Any emotional hardship Taejun expressed could not be understood without fully knowing the ‘regression’ he had experienced. Since they were people who loved Taejun, they could suffer and hurt with him, but they could not properly hear Taejun’s pain.

So Taejun just kept his mouth shut, unable to say a word, and struggled alone. Just like how Cha Haeshin was now unable to get close to his mother and was just hovering on the outside.

“You just said you resented your mother when you were young. Have you ever talked about that?”

“That… how could I talk about something like that?”

“Then, of course, your mother must have never told you why she had no choice but to do what she did back then, how she felt at the time, and what she was afraid of.”

“…No.”

“You probably just took it for granted that you were paying off the debt. You don’t know how you feel, or how your mother feels watching you, do you? You’re just guessing this is how it is.”

With each word Taejun spoke, Haeshin could vaguely feel what had been wrong.

“The biggest part of your and your mother’s lives is the wound left by the past. You both haven’t completely escaped from the wounds you received back then.”

“That’s right.”

“But then, what kind of conversation are you trying to have while leaving out that very story? Did you eat? Did you sleep well? Are you hurt anywhere? What other conversations can you have besides this?”

It was a story that was in line with Taejun’s own chronic loneliness. Everyone has secrets, but if that secret occupies an extremely important point in one’s life, one is bound to become lonely.