She took a deep breath. Yeo Wool had arrived in time for dinner. But Sam Sook was not hungry. She was nervous. Terribly nervous.
“Sam Sook?” Yeo Wool queried gently. “What’s wrong?” His hand reached out to tenderly touch the top of her arm. And that tiny bit of contact seemed, strangely, to steady her.
She cleared her throat. “Yeo Wool, will you come with me? Please?”
He drew his eyebrows close to his nose as he bobbed his head at her. “Of course. Where are we going?”
She turned and led him down the hallway. Towards her bedroom. But she stopped at the door to her outer chamber. Then she stepped inside. He hesitated on the threshold, glancing up into her eyes.
“Sam Sook?”
“It’s okay. You can come in. We’ll be private in here.”
She didn’t want anyone overhearing this conversation. Especially not her mother. Or her daughters.
“Please. Shut the door.”
Still furrowing his brow, he turned to do her bidding. Then he crossed the room to stand in front of her.
“Sam Sook. Why am I in your private chambers?”
She stood gazing up at him as fears and doubts assailed her.
Could she force the words out? Passed the bounds of her lips? Could she tell Yeo Wool the agonizing secret that she had only ever shared with one person?
She heaved a deep sigh, and he stepped closer to her. She tensed as she reached for her courage. Then she opened her mouth, and the words finally fell out.
“The last time I was with a man…I was…raped.”
There. She’d said it. And Yeo Wool was still here. He hadn’t evaporated. Or turned his back on her.
As he’d discovered that she wasn’t as strong as he’d always believed she was.
“What?” he asked hollowly as shock ricocheted through him. His voice was a bare breath. “Your husband…?”
Her eyes widened in alarm as they collided with his. “No! Not Se Ho! I…” Another deep breath. As her eyes slid away from his. “He stopped sleeping with me years ago. He was too weak…too infirm. My husband was…frail by that time. He had ceased to give me his attention.”
She could feel her cheeks growing warm. She could hardly believe she was discussing such things with Yeo Wool! But he wasn’t a tiny boy anymore. He was a man grown now. With the desires of a healthy adult male. And as much as he had sacrificed for her, he deserved the truth now. He needed to know the real reason that she had refused him.
She continued, “We hadn’t occupied a bed together for years. I disturbed his sleep.”
Yeo Wool felt his heart sink in sympathy for her. This dear girl had slept alone for years because her presence disturbed her husband? How that must have hurt her heart! How lonely she must have been!
Such a realization made him want to whisk her off to his bed. Simply to hold her. And to assure her that her simple presence in his life was enough. And that he’d like her to occupy that bed next to him for the rest of his life. Even if she ever began to disturb his sleep, he wouldn’t care. He’d gladly give up sleep for her.
“Wait a minute,” he gasped as all the pieces fell together. “The night you were raped…you got pregnant?”
She nodded her head. Her eyes grew wistful, but she still wasn’t meeting his gaze. “That was my last encounter with a man. Nine months before Se Yeon was born.”
“So the man who fathered Se Yeon…”
“…raped me.” She nodded. “Do you understand now why I cannot marry you?”
He frowned. “Because Se Yeon was not Se Ho’s child?” he queried, confused. Then he shook his head. “No. I don’t care who her father was. I love her for herself. Not for the man who gave her life. And I love her for the woman who birthed her.”
Her heart bent towards him again. And this time she did meet his gaze. “Oh, Yeo Wool. No!” she gasped. “I meant don’t you understand why I cannot let a man touch me again?”
“Because you were raped, you mean?”
She nodded.
“Do you feel that horrible when I touch you?” His heart sank. “Does my touch make you feel…bad?”
Bad? Bad. Many of the circumstances of her life had made her feel bad. The touch of Moon Won’s father had made her feel bad. Then the frenzied grasp of Se Ho’s friend in the darkness of her front sitting room had made her feel bad. But Yeo Wool had never made her feel bad.
She shook her head. “You don’t make me feel bad, Yeo Wool. You make me feel…”
“What?” he asked after she remained silent for a few quiet seconds. “What do I make you feel?”
“Good,” she whispered guiltily.
“Wait.” Perplexed, he simply gaped at her. “I make you feel good?”
She bobbed her head.
“I’m confused. Don’t you want to feel good?”
She blinked. “Um. Not that kind of good.”
“What kind of good?”
“The kind of good that makes me,” she turned slightly away from him, “…want to crawl into a bed with you,” she mumbled while her face turned crimson.
“I make you want to crawl into bed with me?” he gasped in delighted astonishment. But truly, he was thunderstruck. And he felt a crazy hope rising in his chest. He made her feel for him what he felt for her! Maybe there truly was a chance for them to be happy together!
She took a peep at him over her shoulder, but then she swung to face him fully. “You can wipe that grin off your face,” she informed him, disgruntled. “It’s not a good thing.”
“How is it not a good thing?” he queried, perplexed again. He reached for her hands. But she drew them away from him.
“Because I…it’s just not.”
At a loss, he simply stared at her. After a moment, his head cleared. “Sam Sook. Who raped you? What happened?”
She closed her eyes. But truly, that was a bad idea. The scene played out before her again. No matter how much she wanted to eradicate it from her memory.
She had only ever told one person. Se Ho. He had been the only one who knew the truth. But he was long gone now. So she had carried this secret alone for many months. Honestly, she was weary of bearing the burden by herself.
She took a steadying breath. “One of my husband’s friends.” She shuddered suddenly. “A man he thought was his friend…” She cleared her throat.
He’d told her – as he was ripping her robes open – that he had desired her from the very first moment that he’d set his disgusting eyes on her. He had waited years for the chance to…
Yeo Wool stared down at her. “You do not seem to be a woman who would be easily overcome. How did he come to hurt you?”
Her eyes wandered towards the window. She would tell Yeo Wool the truth. But she would not look at him while she did.
“My husband had thrown a dinner party that night. He did that from time to time,” she murmured quietly, “despite his poor health. For my sake, I think. Though, truly, he was the more sociable one. Anyway, that particular night he hadn’t been feeling well, so he headed to bed early. Leaving the rest of us at the table. With an admonition to enjoy ourselves.
“Everyone stayed quite late. The man in question disappeared before the last of the guests – a couple who were close friends of my husband – left. I sent the servants to bed after they cleared the dishes away. I was in the front sitting room. I often retired there after my husband went to bed. Just to enjoy a little time to myself.”
She paused for a few moments that seemed to stretch into hours. But then she picked up the thread of her story where she had left off.
“He appeared suddenly. And shut the door behind him. But I was seated on a couch that faced away from the door. So, at first, I just assumed a servant had entered the room. I turned my head to see why he’d shut the door. I saw him striding towards me.” She swallowed.
“I was instantly on my guard and stood up. But he moved with lightning-quick speed. He was on me before I could react. Shoving me back down onto that couch. And he had a knife in his hand.”
Her heart was pounding now. As it had then.
“He,” she drew a steadying breath as her heart raced along with the trauma of the memory. “He held it to my throat and told me that if I didn’t obey his every whim, he would seek out my daughter next.”
She stopped speaking abruptly as her breath evaporated. Her blood ran cold simply remembering those terrifying moments. She began to tremble.
––
Even then, she had done anything to protect Se Ri.
Yeo Wool was aching to hold her.
“Can I – can I hold you?” he whispered as he stared down at her. Pain clearly written in his gaze.
His precious Sam Sook had been so ill-used. So horribly abused. He felt sorrow and indignation warring with each other for supremacy in his heart.
She glanced up at him. “Yeo Wool,” she whispered, “you want to hold me?”
He nodded his head. “You were there for me when I needed you. You protected me,” he murmured. “Now I want to do the same for you. Though it’s a little too little and quite too late for me to prevent the damage.”
“I protected you?” she murmured, confused. Then her face lightened as understanding dawned. “You mean from the bullies? In your grandmother’s garden?”
He nodded. “Please.” His eyes caressed hers.
And suddenly she wanted nothing so much as the strength of his arms surrounding her. With a tiny whimper, she moved forward. Her head coming to rest against that solid chest. As those lovely arms embraced her. Drawing her as close as possible to his heart. It was pounding for her right now. Its rhythm a steady testament to the faithfulness a man had possessed towards her since he had been a little boy.
Yeo Wool didn’t want to believe the story which she’d just told him. But, of course, he did. And it was breaking his heart. He cradled her gently against him as she rested her cheek against his chest and simply stared at his robe. She hadn’t been held like this…ever.
Even when she’d told Se Ho the truth, he’d been too ill to hold her.
After a few sweet moments, Yeo Wool spoke again.
“But…you got pregnant. How did your husband react?”
She remembered that day too as though it were yesterday. She’d dismissed all the servants and shut his bedroom door. A few days after the rape, he’d taken a turn for the worse, and he’d been in bed ever since. She hadn’t been sure if he was going to survive much longer. But she had felt that she owed him the truth. And she had needed his support. If he died and others discovered her pregnancy, the rumors would begin. Most of his close servants had known they were no longer intimate.
She pulled a chair close to his bed. “Se Ho, I have something to tell you. And I really don’t know how to.” She sat down.
“I was attacked a few weeks ago,” she spoke haltingly. “And now I…I’m expecting a baby.”
She could still see the stricken expression on his face.
“Sam Sook,” he breathed in a hoarse whisper, “my darling! Are you…all right?” His compassionate eyes were trained on her face, and his pale hands grasped for hers.
She reached out to accept his touch. Those hands, at least, had always been tender towards her.
“I am.”
As she stared at him, she spied the lone tear that slid down his beloved cheek.
“It’s all right, Se Ho. Really. I’m all right.”
His eyes turned steely. “Sam Sook. Who did this to you?”
Now she responded to Yeo Wool. “I told him that I’d been…attacked. And that I was pregnant. He asked me what happened. So I told him.
“Se Ho and I had always had a good relationship. We were close friends. He knew that I was faithful to him. I was nervous about telling him. Mostly because I knew my words couldn’t but hurt him. But his health had been failing him. And the servants knew that we hadn’t been intimate for a long time. I needed him to claim Se Yeon as his own. Before he died. For her sake.”
And yours, Yeo Wool thought.
He knew how vicious the rumors could be. And that both mother and child paid the price when the father was not in evidence. But it would have been so much worse for Sam Sook than it had been for his mother. Sam Sook had been married to someone else at the time of her attack. His mother had not been.
“Then he demanded the name of the man who…I had been fairly certain that he would support me…and my baby. But he surprised me when I admitted that his friend had hurt me. Not only did he believe me, but he told me that there had always been something about that man that he didn’t quite trust fully. He was heartbroken that he hadn’t protected me.
“He never said a word to anyone about the rape. And he claimed my daughter as his own. God bless the man. He gave her the security of his name. And he provided for her. He provided well for us all. Even in his death.”
“But he never punished your rapist?”
She shook her head. “We never saw him again. The man disappeared shortly after I told my husband.”
Yeo Wool cocked a dark eyebrow. “Your husband was a powerful man, wasn’t he?”
She nodded. “Very powerful. I still can’t believe that man had the audacity to touch me.”
“Neither can I.” He eyed her speculatively.
Her lips twitched. “What does that mean?”
“You have always been bold. And brave. And so strong, Sam Sook.”
Surprised flitted across her face. “Do you still see me that way?”
“What?” He tilted his head slightly to the side. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because…I proved that I wasn’t strong…I was weak. I was raped.”
“No,” he breathed. “Sam Sook, you are every bit as strong as I always believed. In fact, you are stronger and braver than I could ever have fathomed. You were raped, yet you kept going.
“You found out you were pregnant and chose to raise that beautiful child with acceptance and love. As though she had come into this world as she should have, the child of you and your beloved husband. She has never known one moment of doubt about who she is or why she’s here. She has every confidence in your love for her.
“And that’s all on you, Sam Sook. Your brave soul did that. Your wide heart made a place for her. In spite of who her father was. And what he did to you. You are still the strongest person I know.”
She gazed up at him as his arms continued to hug her close to him. Her eyes flooded, and a tear slid down her cheek. “You really believe that?”
“I do,” he whispered, his gaze still steady on hers.
But then his eyes clouded for a moment as his brow darkened.
“Sam Sook.” His voice was heavy.
She peered up at him. And his eyes increased in intensity.
“I understand,” his voice rumbled softly. “Better than you can imagine.”
She furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”
“I…I too am a child of rape.”
She gasped. “What?” She stared at him. Utterly astounded.
“How do you know that?” she queried a few breathless moments later.
“My mother admitted it to me a couple of months ago. I overheard her speaking with my grandmother. When I…gently…confronted her, she told me the particulars. But…that’s why she has never announced the identity of my father. She would rather allow people to believe that she had a secret lover than to allow her son to be seen as…” His voice trailed off.
“Is he…is he alive?” she gasped.
“No,” he blinked, his face hardening. “Not anymore.” After a moment, as his eyes remained riveted to her face, he murmured, “He was executed last year.”
She gaped at him. “What?” she asked, on edge. “You don’t mean…you can’t mean…”
“Oh, but I do,” he breathed mirthlessly.
“Your father was…?”
“Minister Park.”
