While walking out of the restaurant suddenly Jungho calls us from behind.
"Jay! Suha!"
We both turned. Jungho was striding toward us, his expression calm at first glance, but his eyes… his eyes were searching. Not for me. For her.
He stopped beside us, his voice gentler than usual. "Can I talk to Suha for a moment?"
Suha blinked. "Ah… of course. But—"
Jungho glanced at me, silently asking for permission even though he didn't need it. I shrugged once. "I'll wait by the car."
I stepped aside, giving them space but still close enough to intervene if needed. Jungho motioned for Suha to follow him to a quieter corner near the restaurant's courtyard. Trees rustled in the light breeze, shadows shifting along the pavement.
Suha stood a little stiffly, unsure what this was about. Jungho saw it and smiled softly. "Don't worry. I'm not here to scold you or anything like that."
She nodded slowly. "Okay…"
He took a breath. "I just want to tell you something. About Jay."
Her eyes widened a little, but she stayed silent, waiting.
Jungho looked away for a second, gathering his thoughts. "You're his wife now… and I think you deserve to understand him. He won't tell you himself."
Suha nodded again, more firmly this time.
Jungho's voice lowered, steady but weighed down. "You see him now. Quiet. Cold. Calm to the point he almost looks numb." He swallowed, brows knitted. "But he wasn't always like this. He wasn't born this way."
Suha held her breath.
She stiffened. "Is he… okay?"
Jungho let out a short breath. "That's the question I've been asking for years."
And that was when Jungho began.
"Jay was… sunshine."
Jungho said the word with a kind of heartbreak that made Suha blink.
"Jay was a bright kid. When I say bright, I mean sunshine bright. He used to laugh every day. He used to run around the house and annoy me on purpose." A small fond smile tugged at his lips. "He used to play the violin in the morning, even when I told him it sounded like a dying cat. Baking was his favorite thing. He was the happiest while baking. "
Suha's eyes widened. She couldn't imagine Jay as that child.
"But things changed," Jungho continued. "Slowly. And it all goes back to our parents."
He paused, as if choosing where to start.
"Maybe it's better if I tell you from the beginning," he said.
And then the past unfolded in his eyes.
I remember Jay being four. Small. Bright. Always smiling.
"But then school started," Jungho continued. "And so did our parents' expectations."
Our father was always strict, hard, constantly pushing.
"Jungho got full marks. Why didn't you?"
"You're too slow, Jay."
"Your brother did it perfectly the first time."
"Try again."
"Why can't you be more like him?"
"These are the only words he always told to Jay."
Jay tried. God, he tried.
"I think the first big hit," Jungho said quietly, "was the violin competition."
That day, he'd just finished his violin competition. I was thirteen then. I still remember the way he ran towards us, holding his certificate like it was a treasure.
"Baba! Ma! Hyung! I got second place!"
His voice was so full of pride that even I felt proud.
But our parents didn't smile.
Our father's face hardened. Our mother sighed like she was tired.
"Second place?" Father asked. "Why not first?"
Jay's smile faltered, just a little. "I— I tried my best—"
"Your best isn't enough," Father said sharply. "Do you think second place means anything? Look at your brother. Jungho always gets first place."
I remember the way Jay looked at me.
Not jealous. Not angry.
Just confused.
I wanted to say something. I really did. But I was a kid too. I didn't know how to protect him back then.
After that day, I watched something in him dim. But he kept trying. Every day he studied until his eyes burned, played violin until his fingers shook, woke up early and slept late just to hear them say "good job."
They never did.
Every time he got a 95, they asked why it wasn't 100.
Every time he won second place, they asked why he wasn't first.
Every time he looked proud of something, they looked disappointed.
And every time they compared him to me, I watched his shoulders sink a little lower.
I never blamed him for hating those words. If anything, I hated them too.
But he never blamed me.
He blamed himself.
He really believed he wasn't enough for them.
Years passed like that. Jay's smile disappeared. The laughter stopped. His eyes changed. They turned into something empty, something too old for a kid his age. He started locking himself in his room. He talked less. He played violin less. He stopped showing us his tests and certificates.
And when Mina was born, our parents completely forgot he even existed.
That was the worst part.
They doted on her, loved her, praised her every little thing. And Jay… they only talked to him to scold him.
He was thirteen then.
I was nineteen.
And I knew something was wrong. I could feel it every time I looked at him. He walked like a ghost in the house. He avoided everyone. He jumped when anyone raised their voice. He barely ate.
"He was invisible to them," Jungho said. "Or worse… he started to believe was a disappointment."
He started coming home late, eyes dim. Shoulders slumped. Silent. Carrying bruises no one asked about.
He stopped trying to impress them. Stopped talking. Stopped trying to smile.
And one day… he stopped wanting to live.
But no matter what, he never cried.
Not once.
Until the day everything broke.
It was a week after Jay's fifteenth birthday. I came home early from campus. The house was too quiet. Something felt wrong. I was walking up the stairs, calling out for Jay,
"Jay? You home?"
No answer.
I opened the door to Jay's room.
Empty.
A breeze came from the balcony. The curtain swayed… oddly.
My stomach dropped. I rushed forward—
And froze.
Jay was lying on the ground, blood spreading under him, his leg twisted in a way it shouldn't be.
It looked like he fell.
Or jumped.
My heart stopped.
I ran down the stairs, slipping on the last step, knees hitting the ground as I reached my little brother's broken body.
I screamed his name so loudly the neighbors heard. I saw Jay's eyes were half-open. Blood trickled from his lips. His breathing was shallow, barely there. And the only words he whispered were, "Ma....baba....sorry...."
I carried him, blood soaking through my shirt, and ran to the car because I didn't have time to wait for an ambulance.
He didn't speak. He didn't make a sound. He just stared at me with empty eyes, like he was already gone.
He stayed in the hospital for a month. A month of treatments, surgeries, silence. Our parents visited, but all they talked about was "how could you be so stupid?" They didn't ask why. They didn't care why. Mina was too little to understand anything. Jay spent a month in the hospital.
Silent.
Not crying.
Not speaking.
Staring at the ceiling as if life no longer belonged to him.
But I needed to know.
When he finally came home, I cornered him in his room.
"Jay, talk to me," I begged. "I'm your older brother. You can tell me anything. Just tell me why you keep wanting to die. Why can't you try to live? Why not just… stay wit us?"
Jay sat there quietly. Thin. Pale. Bandages on his arm. A dead calm in his eyes that didn't belong to a boy his age.
Then he spoke.
So softly I almost missed it.
"Hyung… can I ask you something?"
"Of course," I said immediately. "Ask me anything."
Jay turned his head toward me.
His face expressionless.
His voice flat.
"Why do people keep living?"
I blinked. "What?"
Jay looked down at his hands. "They know the longer they live… the more sins they'll commit. And the more they'll have to pay for." His voice was cold, distant. "So why not just die before sinning at all… and go to heaven?"
I froze.
The world froze.
I didn't know what to say. I had answers for everything back then. School, competitions, responsibilities. But not this. Never this.
He was fifteen.
And he asked me why people live.
I never found an answer.
Not then.
Not now.
And honestly… I still don't have one.
Jungho sighed, pulling himself out of the memory.
Suha stood there speechless. Her fingers curled at her sides, her expression tight with pain for someone she barely knew but already cared about more than she expected.
She looked over at Jay.
He was still standing near the car, checking his phone, quietly waiting for them. His face blank. His posture straight. The world would never guess what kind of storms lived inside him.
Jungho continued,"And after that he tried suicide many more times but I always kept an eyes on him. Mina was little back then, so I always td Mina to play with Jay. Jay was always soft toward Mina,"
"After my graduation, I joined our company, KJ Dynamics. Slowly after I became the CEO," Jungho continued, "After Jay graduated father immediately told him to join the company. He did. He did his best in the company too. And this time it worked. He became the COO of our company. My second in command. But still didn't get Baba's approval. Then suddenly Baba announced Jay will get married to you. He didn't wanted to marry cuz he thought it will ruin your life. But Baba forced him into it. And after marrying you Baba finally said 'Good job' which was too late. Jay was not happy that Baba praised him just because he married you and not for his hardwork all his life,"
"Suha," Jungho said gently, "I'm not telling you this to scare you. I'm telling you because you're part of his life now."
She nodded slowly.
"Jay is difficult sometimes but he's not heartless," Jungho continued. "He just grew up being told he wasn't worth loving. He hides everything because that's the only way he learned to survive. But he feels. Deeply. More than most people."
Suha swallowed hard. "Does he still want to die?"
Jungho shut his eyes for a moment. "Some days are better. Some aren't. But since the marriage, he's been… calmer. He's trying. Not for himself, but for you. He thinks you're someone he never deserves. He thinks you deserve better. Even if he doesn't show it."
Suha let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.
"Just… don't give up on him. I want you to....bring the old Jay back," Jungho said. "He needs someone to stand beside him. If it's not too much to ask..."
She nodded again, firmer this time.
"It's not too much! As his wife it's my responsibility, and I will try my best."
Jungho's expression softened with relief. "Good."
They walked back toward Jay.
As they approached, Jay lifted his head. "Done?"
Jungho smiled lightly. "Yeah."
He glanced at Suha, and Suha gave him a reassuring nod. Something softened almost invisibly in his eyes, like he noticed but didn't know what to do with it.
"Let's go home," Jay said.
And they walked to the car together.
But the echo of a fifteen-year-old boy's question hovered silently between them.
*"Why do people keep living?"*
No one had answered it back then.
But maybe now, slowly…
Suha would help him find one