Between the Lines | Riize Wonbin

Chapter 44: An unexpected homecoming

Wonbin stood in the familiar hustle of the city's bustling station, the weight of his luggage somehow feeling lighter than the emotions stirring within him. He hadn't intended to come back-not like this, not with so many memories still tied up in the streets he was now once again calling home. But after years of running from both himself and the past he shared with Juhee, he felt the pull to return.

The company had approved his transfer, and he had quickly resigned from his former position, stepping away from the life he'd built in another city. Though it had seemed like a fresh start, it ultimately left him feeling hollow. Now, as he breathed in the scent of rain-soaked pavement, he reminded himself that this was where he belonged, even if it meant reopening old wounds.

Just as the first evening rain began to fall, Wonbin made his way to the hospital to check on a few things for his family. The city seemed quieter, shrouded in the gentle hum of falling raindrops, and he paused under the overhang, watching the world blur with each droplet that struck the ground. Suddenly, a figure stumbled out of the hospital doors, caught in the downpour without an umbrella.

It was Juhee.

She didn't see him at first, her gaze fixed downward as she clutched a paper bag protectively to her chest, shielding it from the rain. Her hair clung to her cheeks, her face worn with exhaustion and worry. The sight hit Wonbin like a punch to the chest-she looked fragile yet strong, burdened by something beyond what he could immediately understand.

Unbeknownst to either of them, Seunghan stood farther down the street, having followed her to the hospital that night to be a quiet source of comfort from a distance. When he saw Wonbin's silhouette step forward, placing an umbrella over Juhee, he stopped in his tracks. The sight hit him hard, an ache spreading through his chest as he watched the two of them-a moment he hadn't been part of, yet somehow, he couldn't look away. Feeling his presence no longer belonged there, he quietly turned and walked away into the rain-soaked streets.

Wonbin held the umbrella above them, his arm shielding her from the torrent. At first, Juhee didn't look up, too lost in her thoughts. But then, realizing the rain wasn't hitting her anymore, she lifted her head and blinked, startled to find him there.

"Wonbin..." she whispered, as if he were a ghost from another life.

"You're drenched," he said softly, his voice laced with concern. "Let me take you somewhere warm."

She was hesitant, but her exhaustion weighed down her resistance. She felt an inexplicable pull to follow him, if only because she was too drained to fight it. Nodding faintly, she let him guide her through the rain to his car parked nearby.

The drive was silent, with only the gentle hum of the engine and the rain pattering against the windshield filling the space between them. Juhee's gaze remained fixed out the window, her thoughts a swirl of worry and sadness. He glanced at her occasionally, noting the deep lines of fatigue etched on her face.

When they arrived at his apartment, she hesitated at the entrance, feeling a mixture of familiarity and distance all at once. But the warmth inside beckoned her, and she followed him in, grateful to escape the relentless downpour.

He handed her a clean towel and gestured toward the bathroom. "You can freshen up," he said, his voice gentle yet distant, respecting the space she seemed to need.

She nodded in silent gratitude, stepping into the bathroom to dry off and gather herself. Once alone, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror-her red-rimmed eyes, the exhaustion etched into her features. She took a shaky breath, brushing off the tears that had silently escaped, and returned to the living room.

Wonbin was waiting there, having prepared a cup of tea that he offered with a quiet, "Here, this should help."

She took it, her hands curling around the warmth of the cup. They sat together in silence for a while, the tension between them thick yet strangely comforting. Neither spoke of the past, of all the unsaid words and unhealed wounds. Instead, he simply sat there, his presence a steady anchor, offering her a place to rest, if only for this fleeting moment.

Finally, Juhee broke the silence, her voice a soft murmur. "Thank you," she said, the words heavy with all the unspoken emotions tangled between them.

Wonbin looked at her, a faint, almost sorrowful smile gracing his lips. "Anytime, Juhee," he replied, his tone gentle yet carrying a depth of meaning.

And as they sat in that small apartment, with only the sound of the rain outside, it felt, for just a brief moment, as if they had found a quiet refuge from the storms that had shaped them both.