When The Phone Rings

Chapter 63

"Why can't I speak harshly to you, Mom?"

"You…!"

"You used your daughter to secure your position. But I can't do the same to you?"

"……."

"If you're going to play dirty, at least make it fair!"

Her sister In-ah, who had been dozing off nearby, jolted awake at the loud voice. She instinctively stepped between them, but it was no use.

Heeju’s eyes burned with a defiance that wasn’t born overnight. Even In-ah felt momentarily overwhelmed by the force of her presence.

"You don’t even like me, Mom."

"……!"

"You hate me, don’t you? Because I’m the product of your past, all bundled up into one inconvenient reminder. You couldn’t stand seeing me live in a chaebol’s house, eating good food, wearing good clothes, sleeping in a nice room."

Kim Yeonhee’s face turned as pale as a sheet.

"When people whispered about your background, you always came looking for me afterward. You picked fights over nothing, mocking me for things I couldn’t control."

"……."

"Watching me get treated better than you ever were? That was the only thing that kept you breathing in this suffocating house. In this cold, cruel chaebol family, I was your only solace."

"……!"

"You wanted me to be miserable—"

Heeju straightened her back, standing tall.

"But it’s you who can’t live without me, Mom."

Kim Yeonhee couldn’t muster a single word in rebuttal. She stared, wide-eyed and stunned.

"Stop sacrificing me to keep yourself afloat."

"You…"

"I won’t be your offering anymore."

Heeju deliberately took a step back, widening the distance between them. When her mother reflexively reached out, she swatted the hand away without hesitation.

"I’m telling you I don’t need you anymore."

"……!"

"I’m telling you I won’t love you anymore."

She thought of the empty urn—so light, so hollow it almost didn’t seem real.

To begin loving, she’d first needed to learn how to sever ties. But she’d realized this far too late.

"I’m telling you I can live perfectly well without you."

***

The blackout curtains—when had she last opened them?

Heeju thought, her mind sluggish and clouded.

Since the funeral ended, she hadn’t left her husband’s bed. She fell asleep each night, clinging to the faint hope that everything had been a dream.

She didn’t watch the news. She lived like she was already dead.

One day passed. Then another. A week. Two weeks. A month…

If it weren’t for her sister occasionally bringing her food, Heeju might have starved to death.

"Hey, Heeju… how long are you going to stay in bed like this?"

"……."

It wasn’t as if she and Baek Saeon had shared some grand love story or made solemn vows to each other. Yet, she felt as though all her will to live had been drained.

She’d sworn she wouldn’t become like her father, clawing her way away from his shadow. But when she looked at herself now, she realized she’d become the very thing she had wanted to escape.

Staring blankly at the floating dust particles in the air, Heeju murmured:

"It wasn’t that I wanted to escape an arranged marriage."

"Yeah?"

"I think… I think I just wanted to have something."

"……!"

"I think that was what I really wanted…."

The words she’d struggled to say for so long tumbled out, calm and unguarded.

Compared to losing him entirely, this was nothing. Such simple words, and yet they had been so impossibly difficult to admit. Regret spread through her like poison.

"But he was your fiancé, so I buried it. I thought if I wanted someone else’s man, people would call me just like her—like his mother. I didn’t want that shame. So, I kept pushing it down."

"……."

"Sometimes, it felt like I couldn’t breathe."

"…Really?"

"Yeah… Seeing other people’s eyes on me, trying to swallow it all—eventually, I started wishing I could just disappear. But in the end—"

She stopped, her voice catching in her throat.

The lump rising within her was too difficult to suppress.

"He’s the one who disappeared instead."

"……."

"You were wrong, unni. I was the one stabbed, but he… he’s the one who turned into a raindrop."

Her pillow grew damp as silent tears soaked into it.

Her father hadn’t been devastated because he’d been betrayed by love. No, maybe it was because he’d never given it his all.

Because he hadn’t risked everything, even if it meant getting hurt—

That regret, she thought, was what ate people alive.

Every night, she saw the image of Baek Saeon’s back as he left her. It always ended with self-loathing.

The cycle of regret spun endlessly in her mind, never turning off, draining her bit by bit.

It was enough to wring her dry.

"……!"

Suddenly, sunlight poured into the room. Her sister was pulling the blackout curtains apart, letting the light flood in.

The brightness made Heeju squint and furrow her brow.

"Want to go outside with me?"

"……."

"It’s snowing out, and you’re thirty now."

"……!"

At those words, Heeju shot up from the bed like a spark had ignited her.

"What… I’m thirty?"

"What? Uh, yeah. The year turned over already."

The realization jolted her, and she abruptly climbed out of bed. Without a word, she began changing into the first clothes she could grab.

Hong In-ah gaped at her in astonishment.

"Hey… what’s gotten into you?"

"You said let’s go out."

"What?"

"Pretty shoes. And a bag."

She recited her intentions mechanically.

"What are you talking about?"

Hong In-ah could only watch, dumbfounded, as Heeju briskly moved about the room.

***

By the time Heeju turned thirty, she treated herself to a pair of beautiful shoes and a bag.

Ten days later, she found herself cleaning floors at an animal rescue center.

She spent the entire day playing with the energetic puppies, completely drained by the end. Among them were dogs with drooping ears who sat by the window, staring out endlessly. Overcome with a pang of emotion, she could only stroke their thin backs.

Another ten days passed.

This time, she went to a karaoke room and refused to let go of the microphone. Her sister, who had reluctantly come along, and Director Hanjoon awkwardly clapped tambourines in time. When she belted out high notes, she felt an immense release.

Yet another ten days went by.

Heeju visited a painter and asked for a portrait. Sitting still made her restless, but when she saw the final painting, she realized it was nothing like a photograph.

Would Baek Saeon have wanted to see this? The thought crossed her mind briefly.

Ten days later, she went out for dinner. But, once again, her sister and Director Hanjoon tagged along, stealing glances at her the entire time, leaving her too self-conscious to properly eat.

That night, she threw up everything she had eaten.

Ten days passed again, and Heeju started exercising. He had told her to stay healthy, so she decided to start by soaking in some sunlight.

Stepping outside her home, she walked through the park and came across an old phone booth being dismantled. The sight prompted her to quickly head back home.

Another ten days went by.

Now, Heeju began studying ways to stop thinking about him.

But it was no use. She had followed every instruction he had left, yet her energy remained drained. She had no other options left.

"Director, don’t you have any jobs lined up?"

Heeju asked, her face visibly weary, as she visited the sign language interpretation center for the first time in a while.

"Work?"

"I’ve been idle for too long."

"Hmm…"

Director Hanjoon scratched his eyebrow.

"What is it?"

"Well, there’s one job, but… I’m not sure if you can handle it—"

"What do you mean? A sign language interpreter from the Blue House can’t handle something?"

She toyed with the fresh flowers on the table, irritation coloring her tone.

"You’ve never done voice interpreting before. It’s still strange for me to talk to you like this. Don’t you think you need time to adjust?"

"I’m fine. My tongue’s already loosened up from all the threats I’ve made."

"What?"

"…It’s just something like that."

Her curt, indifferent response made the director sigh deeply. He studied her as though testing her resolve.

"Marid Wedding Hall. The bride’s speech needs interpreting."

"…!"

"Can you do it? If it’s too hard, you don’t have to—"

"No, I can do it."

Heeju replied calmly.

***

The wedding hall, adorned with flowers, was breathtakingly beautiful.

This assignment was to interpret a deaf bride's speech for the guests.

Heeju sat in the audience, wearing a neat two-piece suit for the first time in ages. Despite witnessing the entire wedding ceremony, her expression remained stoic as she checked her wristwatch repeatedly.

“And now, for the final part of the program, the bride has prepared a speech for the groom! Interpreter, please join us on stage.”

The emcee announced the last segment of the ceremony.

Heeju stood from her seat and took a deep breath.

The bride, dressed in pure white, recognized Heeju and gave her a slight nod.

Heeju stepped forward, gripping the microphone, and focused intently on the bride as she began signing.

“To my beloved husband.”

This was Heeju’s first-ever voice interpretation.

Her voice trembled, but its delicate tone flowed with a surprising steadiness.

She never took her eyes off the bride’s hands.

Her lips moved naturally.

“It’s been so long since we first met. When I met you, I was penniless and had nothing, but now I’m someone who earns a steady salary.”

In one corner of the wedding hall, Hanjoon, wearing sunglasses to go unnoticed, stood with his arms crossed. Tense, he nervously bit his dry lips.

How could he miss Hong Heeju’s first voice interpretation?

This moment marked the transformation of a half-fledged interpreter into a complete one, but Hanjoon couldn’t bring himself to feel joy.

“There’s so much I’m grateful to you for, but I’ve always struggled to express it. So today, I want to take this opportunity to share my feelings.”

His expression grew grave at that moment.

“Thank you for always embracing and loving me unconditionally, for giving me—”

Heeju’s voice began to falter.

“—a sense of security, deeper than even my parents ever could. It felt like being reborn.”

Her voice cut off abruptly.

Heeju, mid-interpretation, clamped her lips shut like a shell.

The guests began murmuring. But as her eyes met the bride’s, she managed to pull herself together.

“—a sense of peace.”

The hand holding the microphone trembled violently, visibly so.

Hanjoon rubbed a hand over one cheek. This wasn’t just the nerves of a first-time interpreter.

This was Heeju’s…

His thoughts tangled, and his mouth felt parched.

“Sometimes, I’m even grateful when you scold me. Thanks to you, I’ve become a better person—”

Her voice halted again.

Now, there stood Heeju, biting her lip hard, trying to suppress a sob.

“I’ve become a better person, hic… because of you, hic…”

Seeing Heeju’s face, the bride, too, began tearing up.

The guests laughed heartily at the interpreter crying before the bride, but Hanjoon couldn’t join in.

“A better person— hic, sniff…!”

Today marked the hundredth day since his death.