Epilogue 12

Deviant — Epilogue 12

Just then, a nurse arrived to take her pulse and blood pressure before drawing a vial of blood. A short while later, a female doctor in her early thirties approached the bed to check on Miran.

She noted that while Miran’s hemoglobin levels were a bit low, everything else had returned to normal.

The doctor opened her mouth to ask Miran a question, then glanced up at Andre, who was standing over them like a guardian statue.

“Excuse me, um, are you her…”

As the doctor began to stammer in English, Andre answered immediately.

“I speak Korean.”

“Oh, your Korean is excellent!”

The doctor marveled for a moment, and he offered a slight, silent nod.

“Forgive me, but what is your relationship to the patient? I need to ask her some sensitive questions.”

“I am her husband.”

Only then did the doctor turn her attention back to Miran to ask a few questions.

Miran confessed that she’d had body aches and abdominal pain for a few days, and then her period had started mid-flight even though it wasn’t time yet. She added her own self-diagnosis: the cramps were worse and the flow heavier than usual, and she thought she had simply fallen into a deep sleep because the tension had snapped after her first training flight. She noted that her stomach didn’t hurt anymore and the bleeding seemed to have slowed.

“Do you usually suffer from anemia?”

“Never.”

“When did that abdominal pain, the cramps, start?”

“…It’s been a few days. Maybe three or four?”

“Is your cycle regular? When was your last period?”

“Well, it didn’t used to be like this, but it’s been a bit irregular lately…”

Miran couldn’t bring herself to say she thought it was because of the birth control pills.

The doctor tilted her head, looking puzzled.

“Miran-si, your symptoms are a bit too ambiguous to be considered a normal period. I recommend you get an ultrasound and a blood test to check for pregnancy, a miscarriage, or other gynecological issues. Once you leave the ER, head straight down the hall to the left to find the registration desk. You can sign up for an OB-GYN outpatient consultation there.”

Miran turned deathly pale, her voice faltering.

“P-pregnancy? That’s impossible! I definitely took birth control…”

“Let’s get the tests, Miran. we need to know exactly what went wrong. We have to make sure this never happens again.”

Andre’s tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

—

Inside the taxi heading toward Sunshine Villa.

The night outside the window was exceptionally dark, and a heavy silence filled the backseat.

Andre sat with his arm draped around Miran’s shoulder, pulling her close as if to shield her. She leaned her head weakly against his chest, her eyes blinking vacantly. Every few moments, a tear would track down her cheek. He couldn’t find the words to speak; he simply stroked her shoulder and arm over and over.

He offered his other hand to her, keeping it relaxed. She gripped it tight, her fingers twitching occasionally against his palm.

It was the first time in her life she had ever gone for a gynecological exam. And she had learned of the miscarriage before she even knew she was pregnant.

Fortunately—if one could call it that—it was a ‘complete miscarriage,’ meaning no further surgical intervention was required.

It had all happened before she even had a chance to feel a sense of motherhood. And yet, the tears wouldn’t stop. She felt as though she had committed a massive, irreversible wrong.

She had imagined they would have a wedding like a normal couple, enjoy a year or so of sweet newlywed life, and then naturally conceive when the time was right. She hadn’t realized a baby had already found them, nor that it had already left.

Calculating the dates, it seemed she had conceived late last year during their trip to the Virgin Islands. She had rushed to take birth control right before getting on the plane and assumed she was safe, never realizing that the effectiveness of the pill could vary depending on one’s cycle.

When she had spotted between periods, she had simply dismissed it as a side effect of the medication. On top of that, she had pushed her body to the limit through three months of relentless training and practice.

“It’s my fault. I should have been more careful…”

Miran’s voice cracked as she murmured, and she felt Andre’s body go rigid with tension.

“Miran, listen to me. This is absolutely not your fault. This was… an accident, born from not knowing. More than anything, the only thing that matters to me is that you are safe.”

His voice sounded as though he were swallowing a bitter medicine.

Suddenly, a dream she’d had the day they arrived at the Miran Resort flickered in her mind. She had been plucking and eating the petals of a lush, beautiful peony served on a white plate. Those petals had been sweeter than candy.

Was that a conception dream?

“I think it would have been a girl,” Miran blurted out.

“…Kang Miran, don’t think about anything right now.”

Miran gave a small nod and wiped away her tears. Then, after a moment of hesitation, she added one more thing.

“Let’s keep this a secret between just the two of us forever. Especially with the happy occasion coming up the day after tomorrow…”

This time, Andre simply nodded in silence.

—

“Miran, aren’t you tired? Going straight on a date the moment you land. Ah, to be young is a wonderful thing.”

“Huh? Oh… yeah. Well, I’m at the age where I could probably digest stones, haha.”

Miran managed a sly smile and sat at the dining table, her face still pale.

“An Seobang (Son-in-law), come and sit down too.”

“No, thank you. I haven’t made a hotel reservation yet, so I should head out before it gets any later.”

Juran waved her hand dismissively.

“Oh, there aren’t any hotels in this neighborhood. I’ll clear out the master bedroom, so sleep here. Miran, you can sleep in your room with me.”

At that, Miran’s face brightened and she nodded eagerly.

“Do that, Andre! It’s far too late to go looking for a hotel.”

Andre, who had looked ready to politely decline, reconsidered the moment he saw Miran sitting at the table with her face so pale. He realized that staying by her side tonight was the only way he would find any peace of mind.

“Thank you. Then, I’ll trouble you for a night.”

“Trouble, my foot! We’re family now.”

“I cannot take the master bedroom. The living room sofa will be fine.”

“Oh, absolutely not! That sofa is barely half the length of your legs, An Seobang. How on earth are you supposed to sleep there? Don’t be silly—”

Miran, looking back and forth between the two of them, cut in.

“How about Mom and I sleep in the master bedroom, and Andre sleeps in my room?”

“Ah, that’ll work! An Seobang, let’s do that, alright?”

Andre didn’t push back any further and gave a polite, formal bow.

“Thank you.”

—

Juran headed into the master bedroom first, claiming she needed to get a head start on her skincare. That left Andre and Miran alone in the living room, Andre having showered and changed into fresh clothes.

He approached the living room wall, which was cluttered with framed photos, and examined them one by one. The tension in his lips, held tight beneath his somber gaze, finally gave way to a faint, soft curve.

Miran stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. He draped an arm over her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple.

“I was pretty even as a kid, right?”

“Mhm.”

She pointed to her first birthday photo, where she was sitting in a chair wearing a multi-colored saekdong jeogori and a traditional bridal headpiece. It was the only color photo among a sea of black-and-whites from the seventies.

“This one here—the neighborhood photographer took it for free because he said I was so pretty. It hung in the studio window for over ten years. I used to brag about it to my friends every time we walked past.”

“And this? When was this?”

Andre pointed to a photo of her with a short buzz cut, dressed as a man. It was a picture from a high school drama club performance.

“Ack!”

Miran slipped from his embrace and scrambled to cover the photo.

She had forgotten that such a picture existed. One where her cheeks were practically bursting because she’d spent all her time eating snacks instead of studying, topped off with a ridiculous fake mustache.

“There’s nothing to see! People who see this photo have to watch their backs at night. I might just make them disappear without a trace—”

Andre let out a soft chuckle and pulled Miran back to him, cupping her face gently. He showered her with kisses, each one so sweet she felt like she was melting. When he finally pulled away, she blinked at him with a dazed, dreamy look.

Stepping back with deliberate grace, Andre took her hand and lifted it with an elegant flourish. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of her hand. A playful, chivalrous gesture she rarely saw from him.

Miran knew. She had noticed his worried gaze hovering around her all evening. He had been watching her as if determined not to miss a single thing, taking care of her with even more meticulous detail than usual.

That was why she made an effort to laugh more brightly and act as if she were perfectly fine. Fortunately, the shadow of concern was finally beginning to fade from his eyes.

Andre met her gaze and offered a small, knowing smile.

“Good night, Madame la Comtesse d’Aubergne.”

Miran stared at him, looking utterly bewildered.

Was that English? Aside from the first word, Madame, she hadn’t understood a thing.

“…What does that mean?”

“Your official title.”

“My what?”

Miran’s eyes went wide, her lashes fluttering rapidly in confusion.