Dr. Jungkook Jeon, now 28, strode through the hospital corridors with his usual calm professionalism. The smell of antiseptic, the steady hum of machinery, and the murmur of nurses going about their duties had become routine in his life. As one of the best surgeons in the hospital, he took pride in his work, but his personal life? That was another story. He thrived in this environment. He had to. There was no room for distractions, no place for personal attachment. Not when he had lives to save.
The past few years had been a blur of surgeries, long hours, and sleepless nights. He was good at what he did. He had to be. But something gnawed at him, a lingering ache he tried to ignore—an ache that had started three years ago when Park Jimin, his heart, had walked out of his life without a trace.
Jungkook had tried everything to reach him back then. Calls, texts, showing up at his apartment. But Jimin had vanished. No goodbye, no explanation. Just silence. Jungkook had forced himself to move on, burying the pain beneath his work. Yet, every now and then, the memory of Jimin crept back in, like a ghost haunting the edges of his mind.
Sitting at his desk, he flipped through his patient files for the day. His fingers traced over the neatly printed names, but then one name froze him in place. Park Jimin.
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For a moment, he blinked, his heart skipping a beat. It couldn’t be. He closed the file, rubbed his eyes, and opened it again, but there it was, staring back at him: Park Jimin, age 22. His mind raced back to a time he had long buried—back to memories of a different Park Jimin. He hadn’t thought about that name in years. Not since—
His heart stuttering in his chest. No. It couldn’t be. He stared at the file for what felt like an eternity. Park Jimin, 22 years old. It couldn’t be him. Could it?
Swallowing hard, Jungkook tried to shake the thought away. There were plenty of people named Park Jimin, but his gut told him otherwise. After all these years, after searching for so long, could fate have brought Jimin back to him? And here, of all places?
Before he could let himself spiral into too many emotions, a soft knock sounded at his door. Nurse Kim stuck her head in. “Dr. Jeon, your next patient is ready in Room 207.”
Jungkook nodded, trying to steady himself. “Thank you.”
With the patient file clutched tightly in his hand, he made his way down the hallway. His heart thudded in his chest, his thoughts racing. What if it really is him? What will I even say? He had imagined this moment countless times—confronting Jimin, demanding answers. But now, standing on the precipice of it, he wasn’t sure if he was ready.
He reached the door to Room 207 and hesitated. His fingers hovered over the handle, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. Taking a deep breath, Jungkook pushed the door open.
Jungkook’s heart nearly stopped.
Inside, the sterile smell of antiseptic filled the air. The curtains were half-drawn, allowing soft sunlight to spill into the room. Lying in the hospital bed, eyes closed and an IV drip attached to his arm, was Jimin.
