Souvenir - Chapter 10

By the time you read this letter, I will likely no longer be here.

I owe you an apology for not reaching out for such a long time. After my release, I never returned to the office, and I’m sure you must have been worried.

When I finally turned my phone back on, I found it flooded with voicemails from you.

I’m sure my secretary is also worried. My staff, you, and the entire office must have been troubled by my absence. I hope my capable team has taken over my work. My assets—use them for the office, for the staff, for you. That was always my intention, even in my will.

I’m truly sorry for causing so much trouble.

I chose to write this letter rather than send a message because I want you to burn it as soon as you’ve read it.

That’s why I selected this particular type of paper—thin, flammable, easy to turn to ashes. (Which, by the way, makes it annoyingly difficult to write on. The ink keeps smudging.)

What I am about to confess is meant for you and you alone.

As a fellow lawyer, if you decide to keep this letter as evidence for a future trial, then do as you please.

If I were in your position, I would likely do the same—preserve the evidence and present it in court.

But as an individual, as a person, I ask you to burn this letter.

If our roles were reversed, I would burn yours without hesitation.

If you find this letter in my home, toss it into the fireplace or scatter its ashes into the Hudson River outside my house.

But I no longer have the power to control what happens. I will no longer be here.

It’s up to you to decide.

Now, to the Point.

Why did I disappear after my release? (Well, I’m still in my study as I write this, so technically, I have yet to vanish.)

Maybe it all started with my mother and father.

But going down that road won’t change anything, so I’ll set aside my unresolved feelings about them.

The real reason is clear.

Suu.

Even now, I’m still confused, unsure if I can explain this properly. But please, listen.

Let me say this upfront—I did not kill Suu.

I may have mentioned this to you before, but I was once considering marrying Kenny.

You warned me against it, saying that she had been divorced once already.

I appreciated that advice. As a family law attorney, you understood the complications better than I did.

I nearly rushed into it, but in the end, I never married her.

No, that’s not quite right.

I couldn’t marry her.

Because Suu wouldn’t allow it.

I tried to get Suu and Kenny to get along, arranging for them to meet multiple times.

But every time, Suu would conveniently fall ill—only to recover the moment I canceled the plans.

It was clear she was faking it.

Other times, she would openly express her dislike—refusing to eat the cake Kenny made or burying the gifts she brought in the yard.

At some point, I convinced myself that I simply wasn’t suited for marriage.

No matter who I dated, all that remained in the end was a hollow emptiness.

But when I looked around, the only one left by my side was Suu.

Longer than anyone else, she had always been there.

She was my whole world.

Was it fatherly love?

At first, I thought so.

I told myself it was nothing more than a parent’s love for their child.

But as Suu’s presence became something I could no longer imagine my life without, my feelings started to change.

And yet, I kept lying to myself—convincing myself that this was parental love.

But I can’t deny it any longer.

I love Suu.

Not as a father, but as a man loves a woman.

It’s absurd, isn’t it?

Everything I had done for her—raising her, protecting her, caring for her—

In the end, they were no different from the things a man does for the woman he loves.

But she betrayed me.

She chose You.

Everything had gone according to his plan.

I was nothing more than a fool, a pawn dancing in the palm of their hands.

I thought I was protecting Suu.

But in the end, I lost everything.

I can’t help but laugh at my own stupidity.

It’s time to end things with Suu.

And then, just last night, Suu called me.

She wanted to see me.

So she was alive.

I was right all along.

Suu is alive.

She wants to see me.

It feels like a miracle—so much so that I still can’t fully grasp it.

Perhaps this is a second chance, a gift from God.

But despite this so-called ‘blessing,’ I might soon go against everything that is right.

And yet… I don’t care.

There is one thing I can say with absolute certainty.

I will love Suu for the rest of my life.