The Supernova Effect

Chapter 38

Daisuke

Ji-young stood just inside the room, not moving. Not speaking. Not looking away.

I laid there in the bed, every inch of me aching, not from the overdose, but from the presence of this man standing at the edge of my life like a ghost I never asked to see again.

The machine beside me ticked off my heartbeat in quiet rhythm, the oxygen hissing beside it like a reminder that I was still here — alive, even if I didn't feel like it.

He shifted his weight and opened his mouth, then shut it again.

I waited.

Seconds ticked by like hours.

Finally, he broke the silence.

"I know you probably don't want to see me," he said. "And I don't expect anything from you."

"Then why are you here?" I said flatly.

He looked surprised I spoke. Like he expected me to stay silent and let him monologue.

"I just wanted to see you. That's all."

"That's all?" I laughed once. It sounded like glass in my throat. "You fake your death, beat the shit out of me for years, and now you want what? A hug?"

His jaw clenched. "I didn't come here for forgiveness."

"No," I said. "You came here for yourself."

His jaw tightened. "I came because I needed to see you. I needed to know—" he paused. "—if there was still anything left to fix."

I stared at him for a long time.

"You can't fix somethings that's beyond repair.."

"Daisuke, please just talk to me what's going on?"

I swallow slowly thinking of where to start.

"There something I've been meaning to get off my chest ever since our conversation. You've already told me your side," I said quietly. "Now you're gonna hear mine."

He nodded and sat slowly in the chair Nova had been in earlier.

"I used to lie awake at night," I started, my voice like sandpaper. "Not because of the bruises. Not because of the shouting. But because I couldn't figure out what I did to make you hate me."

His breath caught, but I kept going.

"You'd be fine one minute. Then something would flip. You'd break a dish. Slam a door. Your face would change. And I'd brace for impact like I was training for war. You made me feel like love was something I had to earn by being invisible."

I take a deep breath studying his expression.

"Do you know what it's like to love someone who hurts you and still want them to come home? To hate the sound of their footsteps but pray for them to walk through the door just to prove they're still alive?"

The monitor beside me beeped once, louder than before. My heart was racing from fury I hadn't let myself feel in years.

"You left me thinking I was the reason you drank. The reason you hit. The reason you vanished."

"Everything I did to you," he said, "I've relived it every day. You have no idea how much I've wanted to take it back."

"You don't get to take it back," I said. "You don't get to scrub it clean just because you feel bad now."