when the phone rings novel
"Am I not allowed to speak harshly to you, Mom?"
"You..."
"Mom uses her daughter for her own status, so why can't I speak like this?"
"..."
"If we're going to do this, let's at least make it fair!"
Her older sister, In A, who had been dozing nearby, was startled awake by the loud confrontation. Instinctively, she stepped between the two, but it was useless.
Hee-joo's anger had been building for years, and even In A was overwhelmed by the force of her emotions.
"Mom doesn't love me."
"..."
"I know. How could you love me when I'm just an extension of your past? Growing up in a wealthy household, eating well, dressing well, and living well—it must have been unbearable at times."
Kim Yeon-hee's face turned pale.
"Whenever you heard people gossiping about your origins, you would always come to me, seizing every chance to ridicule me."
"..."
"You only ever felt at ease when you saw me treated worse than you. In the cold and ruthless world of wealth, I was your only comfort."
"..."
"Mom wanted me to be unhappy—"
Hee-joo straightened her back.
"The one who can't live without me is you, Mom."
Kim Yeon-hee's eyes widened in shock, and she was unable to respond.
"Stop using me as a sacrifice to keep your life together."
"You..."
"I will never again be your sacrifice."
Hee-joo deliberately stepped back, creating distance between herself and her mother.
Kim Yeon-hee instinctively reached out, but Hee-joo pushed her hand away without hesitation.
"I'm saying I don't need you anymore."
"..."
"I'm saying I will never love you again."
She thought of the empty urn.
To embrace a new kind of love, one must first learn to let go.
She had come to understand this far too late.
"I'm saying I can live well without you."
When was the last time she had opened those heavy curtains?
Hee-joo's mind, moving sluggishly, tried to recall.
After the funeral, she hadn't left her husband's bed, not even once.
She believed that if she just slept, she might wake up to find that everything had been a dream.
She avoided the news, living like the dead.
One day passed, then two.
One week, then two.
One month...
If it weren't for her sister occasionally bringing her food, Hee-joo might have starved to death.
"Hey, Hee-joo... How long do you plan to stay like this?"
"..."
She hadn't shared a great love with Baek Sa-eon, nor had they made any profound promises, but she had lost all will to live.
She had fought so hard to avoid becoming like her father, yet when she woke up, she found herself resembling the very person she had tried to escape.
Staring blankly at the floating dust motes in the air, she murmured to herself.
"I wasn't trying to escape this political marriage. Actually..."
"Hmm."
"Actually... I think I wanted something."
"...!"
"One way or another, I think that's what I truly felt..."
The words she had once found impossible to say now flowed out with surprising ease.
Compared to losing him completely, these confessions seemed insignificant.
Yet those simple words spread like poison through her regret.
"But because he was my sister's fiancé, I buried those feelings deep. I was afraid I'd be scolded for being like Mom, coveting another's man... so I suppressed my heart."
"..."
"Sometimes I felt like I was suffocating."
"...Is that so?"
"Hmm... Watching others, forcing myself to endure, I grew tired. Sometimes I even wanted to disappear. But the truth is—"
Hee-joo hesitated, the emotions surging up too overwhelming to contain.
"That person disappeared."
"..."
"Sister was wrong. The one who was hurt was me, and the one who dissolved into droplets was him."
Her pillowcase grew quietly wet.
Her father's despair wasn't because of betrayal but because he hadn't given everything.
Because he hadn't thrown himself fully into the pain.
That regret had slowly consumed him.
Every night, the recurring image of his back became her self-loathing.
A loop of regret played endlessly in her mind.
It drained her.
"...!"
At that moment, sunlight suddenly poured into the room.
Her sister had drawn the blackout curtains aside.
The bright light made Hee-joo squint and furrow her brows.
"Want to go for a walk with your sister?"
"It's snowing outside, and you're already thirty years old."
"...!"
Hee-joo suddenly lifted her head from under the blanket.
"...I'm thirty years old?"
"Yes, the New Year has already passed."
Hearing those words, Hee-joo, who had been lying motionless like a lifeless chicken, immediately got up.
She grabbed some clothes at random and began changing.
In A was dumbfounded.
"Hey... what's gotten into you?"
"Didn't you say we're going out?"
"Huh?"
"Nice shoes and a handbag."
She repeated the words mechanically.
"I'm going to buy them."
"What?"
In A stared at the suddenly busy Hee-joo in disbelief.
And so, thirty-year-old Hee-joo bought herself a pair of nice shoes and a handbag.
Ten days later, she went to a stray dog shelter to clean the floors.
She spent the whole day playing with the dogs, exhausting herself.
Among them were a few dogs with drooping ears that gazed endlessly out the window.
A pang of sadness hit her heart, and all she could do was gently 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 and Han Jun, the center director, who had come along, could only clap awkwardly in rhythm.
Singing loudly felt liberating.
Ten more days went by.
Hee-joo sought out a painter to have a portrait done of her melancholic face.
Sitting still made her restless, but when she saw the finished painting, she realized it was strikingly different from a photograph.
For a brief moment, she wondered, Would Baek Sa-eon have liked to see this too?
Another ten days passed.
She went out for a meal.
This time, however, her sister and Han Jun, who had accompanied her, kept sneaking glances at her, making it impossible for her to enjoy her food.
That night, she vomited everything she had eaten.
Ten more days went by, and Hee-joo began exercising.
He had once told her not to get sick, so she decided to start by soaking in the sunlight.
When she walked to the park near her home, she saw a public phone booth being dismantled.
She quickly turned back home.
Another ten days later.
Now, Hee-joo started looking into ways to stop thinking about him.
But it didn't work.
She had tried every method he had suggested, yet nothing lifted her spirits.
There was nothing else to do.
"Director, is there any work for me?"
Hee-joo, looking haggard, visited the sign language translation center for the first time in a while.
"Work?"
"I've been resting for too long."
"Well..." Han Jun scratched his eyebrow.
"What's wrong?"
"Actually, there is something, but... do you think you can handle it—"
"What do you mean? I was a Blue House sign language interpreter. What can't I handle?"
Hee-joo fiddled with the flowers on the desk as she questioned him.
"You've never done voice interpretation before. Even I feel awkward talking to you like this. Don't you need time to adjust?"
"It's fine. My tongue is well-practiced already."
"What?"
"...Never mind."
Her dull response made the director sigh deeply.
He scrutinized her as if testing her resolve.
"Maride Wedding Hall. The bride's speech needs interpreting."
"...!"
"Can you do it? If you think it's too difficult, you don't have to force yourself—"
"No, I can do it," Hee-joo replied calmly.
The wedding hall, adorned with flowers, was stunningly beautiful.
Her task was to interpret the speech of a deaf bride for the guests.
Hee-joo wore a neat suit for the first time in a long while and sat among the attendees.
Expressionless, she watched the wedding proceedings, occasionally glancing at her watch.
"—And now, the final part of the ceremony: the bride's speech for the groom! May the sign language interpreter please come to the stage," announced the host.
Hee-joo stood up and took a deep breath.
The bride, dressed in a white gown, recognized her and gave a slight nod.
Hee-joo took the microphone and focused intently on the bride's hand movements.
"My dear husband."
This was her first time doing voice interpretation.
Although her voice trembled slightly, her elegant tone carried through steadily.
Hee-joo's gaze never left the bride's hands.
Her mouth opened naturally.
"We've known each other for a long time. When I first met you, I had nothing. But now, I have a job and an income."
At a corner of the wedding hall, Han Jun, wearing sunglasses, had snuck in to watch.
He nervously bit his chapped lips.
This was Hee-joo's first step toward becoming a full-fledged voice interpreter—how could he miss it?
Even though it marked her transformation from a half-sign language interpreter to a complete one, Han Jun didn't feel joy.
"There are so many things I want to say to you, but I've always been reluctant to express myself. So I'm taking this opportunity to share my true feelings."
At that moment, his expression grew solemn.
"Thank you for always accepting and loving me, for holding me closer than even my own parents, giving me a sense of rebirth and security—"
Hee-joo's voice began to tremble.
"When you embraced me more deeply than my parents ever did, I felt a sense of rebirth and security—"
Her voice suddenly broke.
As she translated, Hee-joo pressed her lips tightly together, like a closed shell.
The guests began whispering among themselves.
But when her gaze met the bride's, Hee-joo forced herself to regain composure.
"—that feeling."
Her hand holding the microphone trembled visibly, the shaking evident to everyone.
From the back of the hall, Han Jun, the center director, gently touched his cheek, his face tense with mixed emotions.
It wasn't nervousness from doing voice interpretation for the first time.
It was... Hee-joo's feelings.
Han Jun could feel the emotions spilling from her, filling the room with a quiet intensity.
"Sometimes, thank you for criticizing me. Because of you, I've become a better person—"
Once again, her voice choked up.
Hee-joo bit her lip, holding back tears.
"I've become a better person, sniff... I've become, uh..."
The bride, catching sight of Hee-joo's face, couldn't help but tear up as well.
Though the audience broke into laughter over the interpreter crying before the bride, Han Jun couldn't smile.
"I've become a better person—" she sobbed.
Today marked the 100th day since his death.