One
Hold My HandShe cheated on him, yet Yonghwa found himself in the private investigator’s office waiting for the results of the search. He wanted to see her again and ask her why she threw away their love. Was he not enough? Was it the money? Did he do something wrong? Had he neglected her, but he was a busy man and she always said she was fine with how things were? They were about to get married, but she destroyed everything when she chose to sleep with his brother. And despite it all, he still loved her. Tried as he might to hate the woman who caused him so much pain, he was unable to do so. And so here he was, six months after he threw her out of his apartment, sitting patiently and waiting.
“I’m sorry I’m late, the traffic’s really bad,” a tall man entered the room he had been waiting in for an hour. “Here are the photos Mr. Jung you’ve requested sir,” the man handed him an envelope and Yonghwa noted how his hands were shaking as he took it from him.
“Where did you find her?” he asked as he opened the envelope slowly. The man didn’t reply, as if waiting he was waiting for something. Yonghwa reached inside and pulled out the photos. The first ones were of her with her back turned from the camera, but Yonghwa could recognize that it was her. Seohyun was ingrained in his mind, tattooed into his heart, a poison he was hopelessly incurable from. Though her hair was longer than he remembered and dyed a different shade, he knew it was her.
He looked through the photos and saw how much she had changed. Gone was the sophisticated girl who accompanied him through the parties his company hosted. She was replaced by a frail and gaunt shell of the previously animated and y woman he was infatuated with. She had dark circles under her eyes and her hair was unkempt. Her limbs looked thinner than he could ever remember, and she looked like hell. Serves her right for cheating on you, but Yonghwa couldn’t help but worry for her welfare.
“She’s been working from Monday to Sunday as a waitress at this local diner near the marketplace. It’s a busy spot despite not being too fancy. Then she works as a bartender every Friday at the local tavern. The town she’s in is located at a province about five hours from here. I found her by accident when her social security number popped into the system as
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