Joon-ha had always been the kind of man who lived quietly inside his own head.
Even back when stadiums roared his name, even when cameras flashed so brightly they painted halos around his silhouette, he had been soft-spoken, private, almost fragile beneath the glitter.
So when the doctors began speaking in cautious phrases, complications… weakened immunity… psychological fatigue… progressive decline, he didn't panic.
He simply listened.
He nodded.
And then, one evening when Areum had stepped out to get fresh fruit from the cafeteria, he watched the door close behind her and whispered to himself
"I don't want to leave without calling her my wife."
It wasn't desperation.
It wasn't fear.
It was clarity, the kind that only comes when time begins to thin.
He called Min Joon at 2:07 a.m.
His voice was rough, breath tight, but steady with intent.
"I want to marry her," he said.
"Before I can't stand. Before I can't speak. Before the world takes the last thing that's mine."
Min Joon was silent only for a heartbeat, long enough for the grief to settle, short enough to not let it win.
"Then let's give her the best proposal she's ever seen."
And he meant it.
By sunrise, threads of the secret mission stretched across the city.
Detective Choi, always efficient, always loyal, made calls before dawn, pushing paperwork through government channels with the subtle aggression of a man who owed Joon-ha more than the world would ever know.
Lawyer Ara organized documents, arranged signatures, and whispered into her phone with the precision of a surgeon handling a fragile heart.
The hospital staff, who had grown to love the gentle, quiet man in Room 409, offered what they could, a cleared garden space, flexible visiting hours, a moment carved out of the schedule where life could pause.
Then came the blessings.
Areum's mother cried first.
But not out of sadness.
"Then love him well," she had said earlier, and now she added, voice trembling
"Let him have this joy before the world asks for too much again."
And Joon-ha's mother, frail but lucid, held his hand with a tenderness that made Min Joon look away.
"I want to see you happy before… before I see you go anywhere without me."
She didn't say death.
She didn't need to.
Some mothers speak grief in half-sentences.
Areum thought it was just another slow walk through the hospital garden, a daily ritual meant to give him sunlight and air.
She pushed his wheelchair gently through the corridor, humming a soft tune he used to sing on stage, unaware that each step drew her closer to the moment he had planned with shaking hands.
When they turned the final corner, she froze.
The garden, usually plain and quiet, had been transformed into something that looked like a memory they never had but always deserved.
Fairy lights draped from the branches.
Photos of their happiest days hung like constellations.
And softly, faintly, the melody of the unreleased song he wrote for her, the one she had cried over months ago, drifted through the air.
Everyone was there.
Detective Choi with a rare, emotional smile.
Ara wiping a tear she pretended wasn't there.
The nurses lined up like a quiet audience.
Her mother.
His mother.
Min - Joon.
Mirae.
And Joon-ha standing.
Barely.
Painfully.
But standing.
Holding a small velvet box that shook in his hand.
Areum took one step toward him.
Then another.
And another.
Her jaw trembled, her breath stuttered, her eyes filling as if her soul was unspooling.
He opened the box with slow, careful fingers.
"I don't have forever," he said, voice thin but unbreakable.
"But I have today. And I want today to be yours."
Her tears fell before her answer did.
He swallowed.
"You once told me love was about staying."
"So let me stay, in your name, in your heart, in your story."
"Areum… will you marry me?"
She didn't speak at first.
Her breath hitched like she was remembering every fight, every kiss, every night she prayed he'd live long enough to say these words.
Then she rushed to him, wrapping her arms around his fragile frame, her tears soaking his shoulder.
"Yes," she whispered into his neck.
"Yes. A thousand times. Yes."
The garden erupted, soft applause, muffled sobs, choked laughter.
But all he heard was her heartbeat against his chest.
_______________
They married the next morning.
No stage.
No cameras.
No extravagant gowns or celebrity photographers.
Just love.
Just truth.
Just two people choosing each other in a world that had taken so much from them.
The hospital chapel smelled of antiseptic and lilies.
Areum wore a simple white dress Ara and Mirae had found on short notice.
Joon-ha wore a suit Min Joon had ironed at dawn, each crease lined with care.
Their vows were whispered like secrets meant only for the walls and their hearts.
"I don't promise forever," Joon-ha said.
"But I promise everything I have left."
Areum cupped his cheek, thumb brushing the soft stubble he no longer had the strength to shave.
"Then I'll take it," she replied.
"And I'll carry it with me, always."
Their mothers cried.
Choi cleared his throat twice.
Mirae cried.
Ara held Min Joon's arm so tightly he almost lost circulation.
When they kissed, it wasn't dramatic or passionate or fireworks-bright.
It was slow.
Gentle.
Almost fragile.
An imprint.
A vow of breath.
A promise of presence.
The news spread within hours.
"Joon-ha Marries Sweetheart in Private Hospital Ceremony."
"A Wedding in the Wake of a Struggle."
"He Chose Love Over Legacy."
For once, the nation wasn't gossiping.
They were grieving.
They were cherishing.
They were remembering what it meant to be human.
The comments weren't cruel.
They were soft
"Let him be happy."
"She stayed. That means everything."
"This is what love looks like."
Their life became a collage of small, sacred moments.
Areum feeding him warm soup.
Joon-ha tracing circles on her palm when nightmares shook him awake.
Late nights spent watching old films, his head on her lap.
Slow dancing to a song only they could hear.
Laughing at memories they once tried to forget.
Learning how to exist between heartbeats rather than years.
She wore her ring like armor.
He kissed it every night, whispering:
"You're my favorite ending."
And she would reply, always:
"You're my favorite everything."
____________________
One evening, the city lights shimmered like distant galaxies outside the window.
The world was quiet.
Time loosened its grip.
And Joon-ha rested his head on her shoulder, breathing softly, steadily.
"I'm not afraid anymore," he murmured.
Areum kissed his hair, slow and sure.
"That's because you're home."
He closed his eyes.
And in that moment, with her hand in his, with the world hushed and hope lingering in the air, he didn't feel like a patient.
He felt like a husband.
A man loved.
A man chosen.
A man who, for the first time in years, felt like he belonged to something gentle.
They were not counting days.
They were living them.
Together.
Chapter 45 / 47
Note: My new novel "velvet devotion" is coming out on 17th November 2025
It's not the book 2 of this novel but it includes some characters from this novel which are, Kim Ara and Detective Choi.