Frozen Memories➔ps.ff

Chapter 35

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The hospital corridors were always a blur of motion, but today, Sarang felt like she was moving through thick fog. She pulled her white coat tighter around herself, the sterile smell of antiseptic in the air, and let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Another surgery. Another life hanging in the balance. Another reminder that she couldn't afford to let herself slip, not even for a moment.

Her hands, steady despite the exhaustion in her body, worked with practiced precision as she moved through the procedure. The familiar rhythm of it was soothing, a rare comfort in her world of constant tension. But her mind, as always, wandered.

She couldn't shake the image of Sunghoon from the night before. 

His face, drawn tight with emotion, his eyes searching hers for something—maybe an apology, maybe a reason. But in that moment, when their gazes had met across the ballroom, the years between them had felt like an endless chasm.

How had he looked at her like that? Like nothing had changed.

Sarang shook her head slightly, trying to focus. She didn't have the luxury of dwelling on him, not now, not ever. She had worked too hard to get here, too hard to let her past drag her back.

Yet, despite the steadying rhythm of her work, the ache in her chest refused to dissipate. She had spent so many years convincing herself that she didn't need him. That his disappearance, his silence, didn't matter. But now, with just one glance, all those years felt like a lie.

The surgery finished. Another success, but it didn't feel like one. 

Her body ached from the long hours, and the exhaustion of it all weighed heavily on her. She stepped into the break room, but even here, amidst the soft chatter of her colleagues and the clinking of coffee mugs, she could hardly find any peace.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, pulling her from her thoughts. She glanced at the screen, her heart sinking when she saw the name.

Dohwa

With a sigh, she answered, stepping out of the break room to get some quiet. "Hey, what's up?"

"Are you okay?" Dohwa's voice was quiet, concerned. "You've been... distant lately."

Sarang swallowed, the guilt creeping in. She hadn't been the best sister these past few days, but she didn't want to worry him. 

"I'm fine. Just... busy. You know how it is."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, as if Dohwa wasn't entirely convinced. 

"If you say so. But listen, I've been thinking about that night... about Sunghoon."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she closed her eyes, steadying herself against the wall. "Dohwa, please. I don't want to talk about it."

"He's an idol now, Sarang. You know that, right?" Dohwa's voice was careful, like he was testing the waters. "I mean, it's not like I've been following him or anything, but I heard about his comeback, and—"

"Please," Sarang cut him off, her voice tight. "I don't need to hear it."

She felt the sharp sting of emotions she hadn't allowed herself to feel in years—anger, confusion, hurt. But beneath all of it, there was a hollow ache that she didn't know how to fill.

"Sarang," Dohwa continued, his tone softer now. "I just don't want you to hurt yourself by holding all of this in. You're not alone, okay?"

The sincerity in his voice almost made her crumble, but she swallowed it down. 

"I know. I'm sorry. I just... need to focus."

After a long silence, Dohwa sighed. "Alright. Just promise me you'll take care of yourself."

Sarang nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "I will. Thanks, Dohwa."

She hung up, sliding the phone back into her pocket, but the weight of the conversation lingered. Her brother knew. He always knew.

She glanced at the clock. It was time for her next round. But before she could turn to leave, her phone buzzed again.

This time, it was a message from a colleague, asking if she could assist in an emergency surgery.

She exhaled slowly. It never stopped. The constant pull of her responsibilities, the lives she was saving, the ones she couldn't save. There was always something. And yet, the question that had been haunting her for years—what if?—remained unanswered.

Her shift stretched late into the night. Even as she worked, her thoughts drifted again, back to the ballroom, to Sunghoon. To the way he had looked at her. To the way the past had resurfaced, uninvited, with a force she hadn't anticipated.

And as the night ended and she finally stepped outside into the cool, quiet streets, the weight of everything—her career, her unresolved emotions—pressed heavily on her shoulders.

It wasn't over. It wasn't over by a long shot.

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