Come to the Rooftop
As soon as Professor Choi Tae-hyuk’s feet touched the ground, Cha-hyun immediately released Moon Na-young’s hand.
Tae-hyuk, having dashed into the cafeteria where the two of them were sitting, now pointed a sharp finger at Cha-hyun with a face that looked like he was about to start a fight.
“You!”
In a situation where it looked like he might get punched, Cha-hyun leisurely looked at her and asked,
“Moon Na-young, did Professor Choi ever tell you what he did in the bathroom at the housewarming party?”
“What?”
Na-young was taken aback. Why would he suddenly ask that now? And how did he even know about it?
Strangely, the Professor, who had been expressing his anger like a furious gorilla just moments ago, was now calm as if nothing had happened.
Na-young looked back and forth between Cha-hyun and Tae-hyuk.
She had never seen anyone subdue Tae-hyuk so quickly in such a short time. They really were close friends, after all.
“Director Cha, let’s talk alone.”
Tae-hyuk gritted his teeth as he said this to Cha-hyun.
He wanted to take him somewhere secluded so he could comfortably hit him if needed.
In front of Na-young, if Cha-hyun opened his mouth, Tae-hyuk would be ruined. He momentarily forgot how cunning Cha-hyun could be. He was never someone who would go down alone. If he went down, Cha-hyun would go down with him.
“Moon Na-young just met me too. We haven’t even properly talked yet.”
Cha-hyun used her as an excuse to stay seated. Tae-hyuk grabbed his shoulder firmly and scolded him.
“You need to fix that habit of hitting on every pretty girl you see.”
“That’s because every time you received a confession letter from a pretty girl when we were young, you dumped it all on me—ugh!”
Tae-hyuk immediately covered Cha-hyun’s mouth with his large hand and dragged him away with force.
He repeatedly told Na-young not to follow and to wait right there.
Na-young gawked at the sight of these two grown men, so accomplished in age and social status, behaving like teenagers.
No wonder people say men are children no matter how old they get.
Once outside the building, Tae-hyuk finally let go of Cha-hyun, who staggered but barely regained his balance.
Tae-hyuk loosened his fists and firmly warned him.
“You really crossed the line today. It’s been a while since you’ve felt a punch from me, huh?”
Back in their teenage years, their friendship had been mostly forged through fights.
Even with Tae-hyuk’s threatening posture, Cha-hyun just smiled.
“Seeing you can get angry properly, I guess you can perform surgery properly too.”
Hearing the word surgery from Cha-hyun, Tae-hyuk’s clenched fists immediately relaxed.
Even now, the baby’s failing liver was slowly being eaten away, yet he had been distracted by his friend’s jealousy tactic—it was frustrating. Tae-hyuk turned and sank onto the bench in exasperation.
“Did Na-young tell you?”
“Yeah.”
Cha-hyun put his hands in his pockets and studied Tae-hyuk’s expression.
“You’re not lacking confidence in the surgery, right?”
Tae-hyuk stared at the hospital building for a moment before speaking.
“The reason I chose hepatobiliary surgery is that this department has the fewest young patients.”
Hepatobiliary surgery mostly dealt with older adult patients. Even if children had liver problems, cases rarely reached surgery.
“Looking at that baby’s CT scans keeps bringing up memories from my own childhood. The thing the baby and I share is that we’ve both been incredibly unlucky since birth.”
“But if the baby undergoes surgery with you and recovers, he won’t know any of that and can grow up healthy.”
The weather was getting warmer, but Tae-hyuk curled up as if cold.
“What I mean is, if I can’t control my emotions, I might make a mistake during surgery. That tiny body could be ruined by just one error from me.”
He had simulated the surgery alone in the lab, but intrusive thoughts kept getting in the way, preventing him from completing it.
For this surgery, Tae-hyuk couldn’t trust himself. That’s why he said he couldn’t do it.
“That’s something you need to overcome.”
“Don’t tell me that like it’s not your problem!”
Tae-hyuk shouted in anger.
Seeing him like that, Cha-hyun looked bitter.
“Then you shouldn’t tell Na-young lightly either. If your emotional issues cause first-year resident Moon Na-young to make a mistake, will you blame her for not being able to overcome it?”
Tae-hyuk could only stare at Cha-hyun, speechless.
Na-young had already expressed disappointment that he hadn’t even attempted the surgery. Now, Cha-hyun was connecting this to her, pushing him even harder—it was unbearable.
Cha-hyun never intended to persuade Tae-hyuk with long speeches. Tae-hyuk was someone who acted first and spoke later.
So Cha-hyun had to say the one thing Tae-hyuk would be most sensitive to.
Turning away, he gave his final advice.
“If you can’t perform the surgery, it’s not like there’s no one else in Korea who can. And your career as a doctor isn’t over. But if you can’t do it, step away from Na-young. Don’t force her to do what you can’t handle.”
Tae-hyuk watched Cha-hyun leave, unable to move. Every word pierced him painfully.
At times like this, a friend was more like an enemy.
Na-young couldn’t just sit quietly, so she went out to the hospital entrance to wait for the two of them to return.
They had left together, but only Cha-hyun came back.
Na-young asked in confusion,
“Where’s Professor Choi Tae-hyuk?”
Cha-hyun casually gestured toward the emergency room.
“I’m leaving now. Nice meeting you today.”
Whether he had successfully persuaded Tae-hyuk or not, she couldn’t tell.
Na-young watched him leave in style in his Porsche, just like when he had arrived, then ran off to find Tae-hyuk.
She found him sitting alone on the bench near the emergency room, just like before.
“Professor.”
At her call, Tae-hyuk slowly lifted his head and looked up at her.
Na-young, gauging his expression, said,
“The decision to perform the surgery ultimately lies with you as the surgeon, but I spoke too harshly earlier. I’m sorry.”
“No, you weren’t wrong. I feel just as pathetic myself.”
It was the first time Tae-hyuk had judged himself so harshly, and Na-young felt guilty. She felt she had pushed him to think that way.
Taking a deep breath, she continued.
“I also have a past I never want to recall.”
It was the first time Na-young had told anyone this story. Even though she thought she was okay now, just speaking it brought back that tightly locked trunk of memories, making it hard to breathe. Yet she persisted.
“Because of that, my whole family was affected. My mother was plagued by guilt, my father became obsessively protective, and my mischievous younger brother now tiptoes around our parents and me.”
And that was why she had become a defensive person with others.
Had Tae-hyuk not shown weakness like this, she probably wouldn’t have brought it up.
“But there’s someone I’m really grateful to. The person who saved me back then. I want to meet them again one day and thank them.”
Tae-hyuk stared blankly at her.
He had never expected Na-young to open up like this first. She had always kept her distance even when he tried to approach.
Her bold voice, stepping forward first, struck the softest part of him.
“Professor, aren’t you thankful to your mother too? She saved you, and now you’re a doctor saving so many others.”
Tae-hyuk’s eyes reddened as he looked at Na-young.
In this moment, exposing their vulnerabilities to each other, it was painfully bitter yet their hearts felt transparently connected.
It finally felt like their relationship had surpassed a purely physical connection, reaching a place where their hearts could truly touch.
Looking at her, Tae-hyuk said,
“You decide.”
“Huh?”
Na-young looked at him, confused.
“If you tell me to do the surgery, I’ll do it.”
The weight of the decision fell entirely on her, making her heart race. But she didn’t hesitate like he had.
“Then do it.”
Her resolute answer caused Tae-hyuk’s eyes to tremble slightly, as if she had pushed him to the edge of a cliff.
Yet she couldn’t retract her answer.
As a doctor, she knew she couldn’t avoid patients like this in her lifetime. It was her duty.
Na-young wanted Dr. Choi Tae-hyuk to be confident in his skills.
“I believe you’ll succeed in this surgery.”
She genuinely believed it.
Surgeon Choi Tae-hyuk was invincible.
Once Professor Choi Tae-hyuk decided to perform the liver transplant for the 12-month-old baby, the hospital staff’s reactions split in two.
Some believed in him, while others suspected he was forced to do the surgery because no one wanted to hear claims of his incompetence.
Regardless, preparations proceeded quickly. The baby didn’t have much time to wait.
Standing before the operating table, Tae-hyuk looked down at his tiny patient and silently thought,
“After this surgery, you’ll be healthy, and I’ll go to the beach with Moon Na-young.”
He decided to focus only on the positive.
In that sense, Na-young was a huge source of strength for him. Perhaps she was the first bit of luck he’d ever had in life.
If she weren’t luck, how else could he have met her and not let her slip away that day?
So if he couldn’t trust his own luck, he would trust the fortune she had given him.
Tae-hyuk closed his eyes deeply, then opened them with a steely gaze and asked the anesthesiologist,
“How’s the patient?”
“Stable. You may begin.”
Grasping the scalpel, his mind calmed as it always did before surgery.
At that moment, he realized Na-young had been right.
He would succeed in this surgery.
Surgeon Choi Tae-hyuk was incomparably stronger than human Choi Tae-hyuk.
When Tae-hyuk went to the family waiting room, the baby’s father, who was also the donor’s husband, had his hands clasped in prayer.
Since the entire family was in surgery today, only he could know how he truly felt.
“You must be Han-ul’s guardian?”
Hearing the baby’s name, he jumped up.
“Yes, I’m the father. How did the surgery go?”
Tae-hyuk casually gave the usual summary.
The liver transplant had gone well, and the baby would be moved to the ICU to recover.
Hearing that the surgery was successful, the baby’s father wept and bowed repeatedly, thanking him.
Only then was Tae-hyuk able to finally tie up his own emotional loose ends regarding this surgery.
Though he had no desire to face young patients in the future as a hepatobiliary surgeon, he felt he could now approach them more properly as a doctor.
Having completed what he needed to do, he picked up his phone to contact Na-young—and saw that her message had already arrived.
A smile curved Tae-hyuk’s lips.
Yes, if she says come, he would go.
