Boundless

제 20 장

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"Miss Jackson, the baby is safe," the nurse says gently, "but that doesn't mean you are. You still have wounds that need tending, please let us—"

"I want to see him," I whisper, my voice breaking, trembling like the last leaf before a storm. "I don't care about anything else."

He sighs, the weight of my desperation heavy in the air. "Mr. Min is still in critical condition. We just finished surgery... he needs to rest."

His words shatter me. I swallow the sob rising in my throat, but it claws its way out anyway. He hesitates, then holds up his clipboard like a fragile offering. "Room D203."

"Thank you." I bow quickly, then take off down the sterile corridor, cold tile under my feet, every light flickering above like the pulse of my racing heart. Nurses point me, gently, as I search for him like a ghost chasing a memory.

And then—I see him.

Through the window, he's awake. He's speaking with someone, a nurse maybe, but it's the expression on his face that arrests me. His eyes are red, his cheeks wet with anguish. I crack the door open slightly, and then—stillness.

"I... what if our baby doesn't make it?" His voice is raw, the sound of a man unraveling. "What would I do? How could I bear to see her cry? I'm such an awful boyfriend."

He breaks.

Truly breaks.

He sobs into his hands, the way a man cries when he can no longer carry the world alone. My feet stay rooted, my heart lurching in my chest.

"It's okay, Mr. Min," the nurse pleads, "please try to calm down—"

"It's not okay!" he yells, broken and hoarse. "She called for me—she screamed my name—and I couldn't get to her. They touched her. They violated her. And I couldn't protect her!"

Each word pierces through me like knives dipped in fire. I press my hand to my chest, trying to hold my soul together.

"How can I even look her in the eyes? How can I be a man when I let the woman I love suffer like that? She did nothing to deserve this..."

He chokes on the end of his sentence, and I can't breathe. I want to run to him, to wrap myself around him and tell him he's wrong. That it wasn't his fault. That I need him to survive this more than I need air.

"Mr. Min? Mr. Min, can you hear me? Doctor!"

No.

No, no, no.

"Jae!" I scream, tearing the door open as panic floods the room. His eyes roll back and his body convulses violently.

The monitors scream. The sound of a flatline is louder than any bomb. My knees buckle beneath me.

"Jae! No, please no!" My voice is hoarse, but I scream through the pain anyway. The nurses try to move me, but I can't feel my limbs. I can't feel anything.

They charge in with paddles, shouting commands. The room spins. The color bleeds out of the world.

I'm in the hallway now, though I don't remember walking. I'm on the floor. My cries are guttural, torn from the deepest place inside me.

"Jae... Jae..." I whisper through sobs that burn like acid. My body curls in on itself like a dying star. My heart has shattered into dust.

And then—his body is wheeled past me, limp, battered, broken. They rush him into the ICU and he disappears again.

A doctor approaches, but I am too far gone.

"Are you Mr. Min's family?"

"No. She is not."

The voice slices through the air like a blade. We both turn. Jae's father stands tall with four suited men behind him. His expression is hard—polished by power and pride, calloused by money and control. His disdain is palpable.

"I am his father," he says with finality. The doctor, clearly recognizing him, straightens.

"Mr. Senator, sir. Mr. Min went into cardiac arrest due to a neural spasm. We've moved him into intensive care. He sustained multiple injuries—two cracked ribs, a fractured leg, a concussion... and internal bleeding. We're running more tests."

Every word feels like a hammer pounding against my chest. They are speaking about my Jae. My light. My love.

The doctor continues. His voice fades.

And then I hear him—Jae's father—snort with contempt.

"Ridiculous. This would never have happened if he had just listened to me." His eyes slide to my belly. "She's pregnant? Seriously?"

My gaze snaps to him, rage beginning to coil in my spine.

"You have something to say to me?" I ask coldly, switching to Korean for the first time since arriving. My voice cuts clean, sharp.

"Oh, I do." He steps closer, eyes burning with judgment. "You destroyed my son's life. Everything that happened—every consequence—is because of you."

My mouth parts in disbelief. "Me? I don't even know who those men were!"

"They're the nephews of an investor. A powerful one—he owns 46% of South Korea's natural resource corporation. They came for Jae when he broke the deal."

My breath hitches.

"What deal?"

"He was supposed to marry Angelica. That was the agreement. A political alliance, cemented by marriage. But then he met you, and he threw it all away. Now, they want retribution."

I shake my head. No. No—he's lying. Jae would have told me. He would have told me.

"You're lying!" I cry out, voice cracking.

He snaps his fingers and one of the men steps forward with a contract in hand. I snatch the paper, hands trembling. And then I see it.

The signatures.

The breakdown of shares.

Jae's name... written in his own hand.

The paper slips from my fingers like ash.

"This isn't true," I murmur, barely audible. My soul is unraveling. My knees are soft. My tears fall like broken promises.

"He was meant to marry her three days ago. But he cancelled everything—for you. Now they want him to suffer. And they will. Over and over again. Because you exist."

I collapse to the floor, my sobs violent and endless.

"If you really love my son," he crouches beside me, "you'll go back to America. You and that child—disappear. Don't ever come back."

He rises, smooths his suit jacket. "We'll provide for the child. For its bloodline only. Nothing more."

I look up at him, eyes burning with defiance and sorrow.

"Keep your money." I spit the words like venom, then stumble to my feet and run.

I run through the corridors.

I run through my heartbreak.

I run away from the only home I had found—in him.

And I promise myself:
For his life,
For his future,
For his survival—
I will leave.

Even if it means losing the love that kept me breathing.
Even if it means breaking every piece of my heart.
Because I was the storm.
And he—
He deserved the sun.