The Textbook of a Lover - Chapter 65

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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65.
Gyu-seon shot Cha Kyung a sidelong glance.
“We love Do-ah more than we love you. We won’t let a drop of water touch her fingertips.”
“I don’t know. I’ve heard that brides tend to change quite a bit before and after marriage.”
Gyu-seon gave Cha Kyung a sharp pat on the back.
“You’re the one who’d better not change.”
Do-ah spoke up quickly.
“I’ll definitely come on Chuseok. Spending the holidays alone feels so lonely. Thank you for inviting me, grandmother.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful.”
Gyu-seon handed Do-ah a piece of paper that had been resting on the dining table.
“What’s this?”
“I had a Hanbok made for you. Go pick it up at that place with Cha Kyung.”
“Really? For me?”
“It’s a holiday—you need to wear a Hanbok. I left it with them when I was getting Jeong-hye’s clothes tailored.”
“You really didn’t have to do something like this…….”
“I want to see it. Do-ah in a Hanbok.”
Gyu-seon turned to Jeong-hye as she spoke.
“Don’t you think she’ll look beautiful and lovely?”
“Of course, Mother.”
Both their eyes glimmered toward Do-ah.
When Do-ah was growing up at the Orphanage, holidays had been the quietest days of the year.
Only the children with places to go would leave, and those who remained would gather in front of the television, making Songpyeon together.
There had been no Hanbok. No one to have it made for her.
But now these people had a Hanbok fitted for Do-ah and were inviting her to spend Chuseok together, holding her hand.
The busiest, most festive holiday of Do-ah’s life was approaching.
* * *
The Hanbok Shop was tucked deep inside Bukchon Alley.
It was a converted shop in an old hanok, and when they pushed open the wooden door, silk Hanboks hung along the walls.
The shopkeeper brought out the prepared Hanbok.
A sky-blue jeogori and a crimson skirt. The color combination was classical, but the fabric was decidedly modern.
The jeogori was made of thin silk that shifted between sky-blue and gray depending on the light, while the skirt was matte silk that settled with quiet dignity.
The otgoreum ties were a deeper indigo than the jeogori.
Do-ah emerged from the dressing room in the Hanbok.
Cha Kyung’s gaze lingered on her for a long moment.
“It suits you well.”
“Really? This is the first time I’ve ever worn a Hanbok.”
“For a first time, you’ve worn it nicely. Except the otgoreum is a little crooked.”
Do-ah was startled and hurried to check her ties, only to find them perfectly knotted in place.
When she looked up again, she found Cha Kyung smiling, his lips curved upward.
“……You tricked me!”
“You look even more beautiful when you’re angry in a Hanbok.”
Do-ah turned in front of the mirror. The skirt billowed softly with each spin.
Her reflection felt unfamiliar. People always said that wearing a Hanbok made you feel like a different person, and it was true.
“The skirt seems a bit long. I can have it hemmed for you. It should take about thirty minutes.”
At the shopkeeper’s words, Cha Kyung glanced at Do-ah.
“There’s a café nearby. Should we wait there?”
“Where?”
“The place you said you wanted to visit happens to be close by.”
Do-ah recognized it at once. The Glass Greenhouse Cafe at the far end of Bukchon Alley.
It was built by installing glass on the rooftop of an old building—she’d seen it dozens of times on social media, but the wait was always so long that she’d given up.
“I heard the line there is incredibly long?”
“It should be fine since it’s a weekday.”
Cha Kyung walked ahead and Do-ah fell into step beside him. Bukchon Alley was quiet.
On a weekday afternoon when tourists were few, wind drifted between the stone walls.
The Beige Pumps Cha Kyung had bought her clicked rhythmically against the stone ground.
“Should we look for a place to move into together after Chuseok?”
Cha Kyung spoke while looking ahead. Do-ah’s pace slowed by half a beat.
“……Move? But it’s the house you’re going to live in—do I really need to look at it too?”
“It’s a place we’ll live in together, so we should look at it together.”
“Live in…… together?”
Do-ah stopped and looked up at Cha Kyung. He turned to face her naturally.
“Why are you so surprised? This isn’t the first time I’ve mentioned it.”
But this is the first I’m hearing of it. Wait—now that I think about it, he had joked about proposing before.
“That was…… just something you said in passing.”
“Do I seem like the type of man who would casually propose to any woman?”
“I’m not saying you do, but…….”
No. Absolutely not.
They’d only been officially dating for two months, yet she trusted him more than Kyung-jun, whom she’d been with for seven years.
She could do it right now if they married—as long as it was Cha Kyung.
But still, should they rush like this?
“All right. Take your time and think about it. I’ll wait.”
Do-ah nodded. Somehow, she had a feeling the decision wouldn’t take very long.
As if he’d read her mind, Cha Kyung spoke.
“Just don’t make me wait too long. I might not be able to hold back.”
Walking slowly like that, they soon came upon a broad road. Across the pedestrian crossing, Do-ah spotted the café she’d wanted to visit.
Cha Kyung took out his phone to check the wait time.
“Two groups waiting right now. If we hurry, we should be able to get in quickly.”
When the light changed, Cha Kyung strode onto the crossing.
Do-ah moved to follow, her foot stepping forward—but her right foot wouldn’t move.
‘Of all places.’
The heel of the Beige Pumps Cha Kyung had given her was caught in the gap of the storm drain grate. She thrashed her foot violently, but it wouldn’t come free.
She bent down and tried pulling with her hands, but the heel was wedged too tightly between the slots. She couldn’t budge it.
“Cha Kyung, wait—”
Do-ah’s voice cut short there.
A black sedan roared around the corner and bore down on Cha Kyung’s back with no sign of stopping.
Even as the engine screamed against her eardrums, Cha Kyung remained focused on his phone screen, his back turned.
Shouting would be too late. The car would hit him before he could turn around.
Desperate, unable to free the heel no matter how hard she pulled, Do-ah didn’t hesitate. She slipped her foot out of the shoe.
She left one Beige Pump wedged in the storm drain and ran toward Cha Kyung.
The rough asphalt tore at her bare feet, but she had no time to feel it.
“Cha Kyung!”
Both hands shoved hard against his broad back. It was the most desperate, most powerful push of her life.
The sudden force sent Cha Kyung stumbling forward.
As he spun around belatedly, his eyes caught the image of Do-ah rising into the air with her arms outstretched.
Thud.
The world went still.
The sound of breaking glass and screeching tires blended with someone’s scream, but to Cha Kyung, it all sounded distant and muffled, as if heard through water.
Only the navy cardigan Do-ah had been wearing, cutting through the air as she fell, remained horrifyingly vivid.
“……Do-ah?”
His mouth opened, but no sound emerged.
Cha Kyung crawled forward.
Blood seeped from between his torn pants, but he felt no pain. Every sense was fixated entirely on Do-ah.
She lay crumpled at the edge of the road. Her pale face was obscured by tangled hair.
He could barely recognize her as the person who had been making Songpyeon, wearing a Hanbok, smiling as she walked through the alley just moments before.
“Seong Do-ah! Open your eyes! Seong Do-ah!”
Cha Kyung cradled her face in trembling hands.
It was still warm, but her eyelids remained motionless.
His gaze fell to her feet. Her right foot was bare.
Behind the pedestrian crossing, one Beige Pump with a snapped heel remained wedged in the storm drain grate.
If she runs, I’ll catch her.
That arrogant promise he’d made when handing her the shoes now pierced his chest like a dagger.
Do-ah hadn’t run. Instead, she’d abandoned the shoe and run barefoot. To save him.
One ownerless Beige Pump remained wedged in the storm drain, trembling in the wind.
* * *
Three hours after the operating room’s red light came on, Cha Kyung still hadn’t left his seat in the corridor.
The abrasion that ran from his left knee to his right elbow had crusted over with dried blood, and his scraped palms were weeping fluid.
But Cha Kyung felt none of it.
All that remained was the temperature of Do-ah’s cheek beneath his hand.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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