Chapter 117.1

Chapter 117.1

Miran’s expression darkened with worry. What if he had been hurt?

“To someone who says he can barely breathe because of me…”

She shot Juran a faintly resentful look, but Juran caught her gaze in the mirror and snorted with a laugh.

“I’m kidding. I asked if he’d come to see our Miran, and he realized who I was and greeted me very politely. I told him to come in for a moment and at least wet his throat before leaving.”

Juran spoke as casually as if she had fed a passing stray dog a single meal. Miran pressed her urgently.

“So? Andre actually came into our place? What did you talk about?”

“All sorts of things. I told him that since he’d gone and arranged a strategic marriage with another woman and told you to be his mistress, he had no right to complain about being dumped. Then that handsome face of his turned red, and he started sweating buckets. He said, ‘It was my fault. I’ve corrected everything. That will never happen again.’”

Juran chuckled as she mimicked Andre’s manner of speaking.

“I figured this was my chance, so I told him everything I could remember about how hard things were for you when you went to New York. He kept nodding and saying, ‘I will correct it.’ The way he spoke was short and no nonsense, like a soldier. I asked him where he learned Korean, and he said he learned it while serving three years in the military in Yongsan. Why didn’t you ever tell me that?”

His blunt, clipped way of speaking was simply his personality, but Miran saw no reason to bother correcting Juran’s misunderstanding.

“What else did you talk about?”

Miran urged anxiously. Juran, instead of answering right away, perched herself leisurely at the head of the bed and picked up a book from the nightstand.

“I told him about my situation, and shameless as it was, I asked him to stay with you on the day of the surgery if possible. I couldn’t stand the thought of you waiting alone outside the operating room. He didn’t argue at all. Just said, ‘Yes, understood.’ That’s all.”

Juran opened the book on her lap and picked up her glasses. With the frames perched on the bridge of her nose, she looked quietly at Miran, who stood there blankly chewing on her lip. Then she spoke in a gentle voice.

“Miran.”

“Yeah?”

Miran lifted her head.

“There’s no such thing as a perfect person. And everyone makes mistakes. Reviving a fire once it’s gone out isn’t easy. If it’s been brought back to life, it means the one who wanted it more fought with everything they had. What matters is the hearts of the two people involved. Don’t worry about circumstances around you. Look carefully at what your heart truly wants. So that when you look back on your decision later, you won’t regret it.”

She adjusted her glasses and lowered her gaze back to the book.

“Now go to your room and think it over. Mom’s going to read.”

—

The surgery was two days away.

As soon as Juran got home from work, she pulled out a small travel bag and packed a week’s worth of clothes. Tomorrow morning she would go to the hospital for tests, then immediately complete the admission process, followed by a full day of fasting. The length of her hospital stay would depend on how the surgery went, anywhere from a week to as long as ten days.

They barely ate dinner, and the normally chatty mother and daughter both fell uncharacteristically quiet.

At Juran’s urging, Miran went to bed first. She lay there tossing and turning, unable to sleep, when Juran quietly opened the door and came in, sitting down beside the bed.

Like she used to when Miran was a child waking from a nightmare, Juran gently brushed the hair from her forehead with her cool hand.

Miran’s shoulders trembled as she began to sob. She reached out, wrapped her arms around Juran’s waist, and buried her face in her lap. Juran patted her back.

“Mom… don’t leave me.”

Juran soothed her in a tightly held voice.

“Where would I go? I’m planning to travel on planes you put me on, watch you get married and live sweetly with your husband, have beautiful grandchildren, and see them grow up. So don’t worry about things like that. I’m going to enjoy every bit of the good life you give me. Be prepared.”

The voice she’d tried to keep cheerful cracked slightly.

“And there’s something I really wanted to say. Miran, thank you for being born as my daughter. I don’t know how much happiness and meaning you gave my life.”

“Why would you suddenly say something like that? Don’t, don’t…”

Miran couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence and choked back tears.