nabi

The cafe comes into view, a sleek and modern space tucked away from the bustling streets. It’s quiet and private; exactly what this conversation requires. He parks his car and sits there for a moment, his head falling back against the headrest. He doesn’t know if Sakura has seen the articles yet. He prays she hasn’t. He had called Sakura last night while you were fast asleep in his bed. The plan was to meet her and tell her everything, to end the engagement gently and spare her any embarrassment of it going public but now everything has already spiraled and it’s thanks to Chisa’s article.

He steps out of his car, straightens his jacket, takes a deep breath and pushes the door of the cafe open. The space is quiet save for the soft hum of conversation and the occasional clink of cups blending into the background. He spots Sakura immediately. She’s seated near the window, her posture is rigid, her phone sitting face-up on the table. She’s dressed impeccably as always, her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail, her makeup flawless but her eyes—her eyes betray her. They’re red-rimmed, glassy and filled with something he hasn’t seen before. Not in her at least. Anger. “Sakura,” he says softly, pulling out the chair across from her.

She doesn’t look at him right away but when she does her gaze is sharp, her expression unreadable. “Heeseung,” she says flatly, her voice devoid of the warmth he’s grown used to.

He sits down slowly, his hands resting on his thighs beneath the table. “Thank you for meeting me,” he starts, his voice careful.

Her lips press into a thin line and she folds her hands neatly on the table. “I didn’t come for pleasantries. Say what you need to say.”

Heeseung flinches but forces himself to hold her gaze. “I wanted to talk to you in person. You deserve that much.”

Her lips twitch but there’s no humor in the gesture. “Deserve,” she repeats, her voice bitter. She picks up her glass of water, her movements slow and deliberate. “Was that before or after your sluts friend decided to publish a public humiliation piece about me?”

Heeseung stiffens at her words, his jaw tightening. “Don’t call her that.”

Sakura blinks, visibly taken aback by his sudden shift in tone. “Excuse me?”

“I understand you’re upset. You have every right to be but I won’t sit here and let you talk about her like that.” Heeseung defends.

Her brows furrow, her lips parting in disbelief. “I—”

“She had nothing to do with the article,” Heeseung cuts in, holding her gaze. “That was Chisa’s decision, not hers so if you’re angry, aim it where it belongs but don’t drag her into this.”

The cafe feels colder in the silence that follows. Sakura stares at him, her shock evident. In all their time together, Heeseung had never spoken to her like this—never defended anyone with this kind of intensity. It stings, the realization that he clearly cares about you far more than he ever cared about her. Sakura’s hands tighten around her glass and after a long pause she finally speaks. “Have you read the article?”

Heeseung nods once. “I got the notification on my way here.”

Sakura studies his face, searching for something. “Is it true? Did you really try to force your ex to abort your baby?”

The question hangs in the air, heavy and suffocating as the memories of those rumors claw their way to the surface. Heeseung can still remember the whispers, the pointed stares, the way Karina’s life unraveled because of lies she never asked for. “It wasn’t my baby,” he says finally.

Sakura narrows her eyes. “That doesn’t answer my question. Did you ask her to—”

“I won’t talk about her,” Heeseung interrupts, his tone firm.

The protectiveness in his voice takes Sakura by surprise yet again and fuels her anger. “Why not? You’re fine letting the whole world think the worst of you?”

Heeseung doesn’t respond. He won’t. Karina isn’t here to defend herself and he refuses to let her pain be reduced to the latest gossip. Though their relationship ended long ago, the respect he has for her remains. He won’t give anyone the satisfaction of dragging Karina’s name further through the mud. The article had painted her as reckless, a naive girl who ruined her future by having a baby too young but Heeseung knows the truth. He knows how hard it was for her, how the lies forced her to leave school and how she struggled to rebuild her life afterward. Chisa might be your best friend but Heeseung isn’t sure he’ll ever forgive her for that—for stealing Karina’s peace and robbing her of the chance to tell her own story.

Sakura mistakes his silence for guilt. Her eyes narrow and her voice trembles with disgust. “You’re unbelievable. You really think you had the right to ask her that?”

Heeseung sighs and he forces himself to meet her gaze. “I had no idea Chisa was going to post the article,” he says deflecting. “I tried to stop it. I told my lawyers—”

“Don’t. Just…don’t.” She interrupts, her eyes flashing.

Heeseung closes his mouth as told. “Do you know what it feels like, Heeseung? To wake up and see that article plastered everywhere? To have people texting me, asking if I’m okay as if I’m some pathetic fool who couldn’t see this coming?”

Heeseung opens his mouth to respond but she doesn’t give him the chance. “Do you know how humiliating it was? To see people pitying me, mocking me for trusting you? Calling me naive for believing in this—believing in you?”

Heeseung flinches, guilt clawing at his chest. “I never wanted this to happen,” he says quietly.

“But it did. Because of you, because you couldn’t be honest with me.” She snaps. Her accusation lands squarely on his shoulders and he bows his head slightly, unable to meet her gaze.

“I told Miss Min to postpone the announcement, I should have done more. I should have stopped this sooner but I…I didn’t know how.” He says after a long pause.

Sakura lets out a sharp laugh, the sound devoid of any real amusement. “You didn’t know how? You didn’t know how to do the bare minimum of respecting me enough to tell me the truth before the world did?”

Heeseung looks away. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He whispers, the words feeling inadequate.

Sakura’s eyes glisten with unshed tears but she doesn’t let them fall. She stands abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor.  “Sorry doesn’t fix this. Sorry doesn’t erase the headlines and sorry sure as hell doesn’t give me back my dignity.”

Heeseung stands too, reaching out instinctively but she steps back her gaze hard. “Don’t,” she says, her voice breaking. “Don’t touch me.”

He freezes, his hand falling limply to his side. He watches as she turns to leave her heels clicking against the polished floor. At the door she pauses, glancing back at him one last time.

“I loved you, I really did but I was wrong. You’re not capable of loving anyone.” She says, her voice trembling. Heeseung feels as if he’s been shot directly in the heart. “Do you know what the worst part of all this is? I don’t even hate you. I hate myself for still caring.”

With that, she turns on her heel and walks out of the cafe, leaving Heeseung sitting there alone. He doesn’t move for a long time. His eyes stay fixed on the empty chair across from him, his fists clenched tightly on the table. Her words echo in his mind. You’re not capable of loving anyone. The thought gnaws at him, each repetition cutting deeper. He doesn’t know if he can love anyone, not like how they deserve to be loved. He’s been through so much, made so many mistakes—saw so many people leave him.

What if Sakura’s right? What if he’s incapable of giving you the love you deserve? What if he messes that up too? He thought he had figured it out, thought maybe, just maybe he could finally get it right but now…the doubt creeps in. What if he loses you the same way he lost Karina?

His chest tightens as the thought sinks in. He’s not sure if he deserves love anymore, not after everything he’s done. What if he’s too broken to ever truly be loved? Worse, what if you see it too and walk away?

THAT SAME DAY IN YOUR APARTMENT

The sound of the front door unlocking echoes through the quiet apartment. You don’t lift your head from where it rests against the edge of your bed. Your arms are wrapped tightly around your knees, your phone discarded somewhere on the floor. A soft knock on your bedroom door follows but you can’t bring yourself to answer.

“____?” Jaehyun’s voice filters through, careful and hesitant. “It’s me...Yunho’s here too.”

The door creaks open when you don’t respond and Jaehyun’s gaze immediately finds you sitting curled up on the floor like you’re trying to disappear into yourself. His face falls and before you know it, he’s closing the distance, dropping to his knees beside you.

“Hey, You’re okay.” He says softly, reaching out to wipe the tears from your face. It’s such a simple statement yet it shatters whatever fragile composure you had left. Tears sting your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. Instead, you shake your head wordlessly, biting down on your lip to keep it from trembling.

Jaehyun exhales and sits down properly on the floor, leaning against the bed frame beside you. He doesn’t say anything else right away, just wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close. From the doorway, Yunho watches silently, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression is unreadable, a mix of concern and something sharper; something that makes you want to shrink even further into Jaehyun’s side. “I told you to stay off your phone. Why didn’t you listen?” Jaehyun murmurs, his voice low and tinged with disappointment.

You let out a shaky breath, your hands clench into fists. “Because I thought…I thought maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as I imagined but it’s worse, Jaehyun. It’s so much worse.”

“I—” Your voice catches and you bite your lip, trying to hold back the tears. “It’s all falling apart, isn’t it?”

Jaehyun doesn’t answer right away, his gaze flickering to Yunho who finally steps closer. “You’ve been through worse, you’ll get through this too but, ____…” He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck before continuing, “What were you thinking?” The question isn’t accusatory but it still hits like a punch to the gut.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” you say softly, the words barely audible.

Yunho sighs. “I believe you didn’t but you’re smart, ____. Smarter than this. How did it get this far?”

Jaehyun’s hand finds yours. “We’re not here to pile on,” he says, shooting Yunho a look. “But we’re worried about you. This—this isn’t like you. How did this happen? I thought you had it under control, I warned you when you first got put on Heeseung and Sakura’s case. I told you not to fall for his charm.”

You wince, their words cutting deeper than they probably realize. “I didn’t mean for this to happen…I thought I could handle it—I really did but he’s…he’s not what I thought he was. He’s not what anyone thinks he is.”

Yunho raises an eyebrow, his skepticism clear. “And that excuses what? The fact that you slept with him?”

His words make your skin crawl and your heart drop. Jaehyun’s hand stills on your shoulder, his body tensing beside you. “You slept with him?”

You nod, shame burning hot in your cheeks. “Last night…I slept with him last night.”

Jaehyun closes his eyes, exhaling a slow breath. Yunho, on the other hand, lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “My Goodness, ____.”

“It wasn’t just…it wasn’t like that,” you say quickly, your words tumbling out in a rush. “It wasn’t just some random thing. I care about him—I really care about him and I know that sounds stupid and reckless but—”

“It doesn’t sound stupid,” Jaehyun interrupts, his tone softer now. “It sounds like you’re human. Heeseung has a way of pulling people in—it’s what he’s always done. I’m not blaming you for falling for him, ____ but…”

“But you should’ve known better,” Yunho finishes.

You open your mouth to argue but the words catch in your throat. Jaehyun shifts beside you, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of concern and disappointment. “You told him about Chisa’s article, didn’t you?” he asks gently.

You nod. “I told him everything. I told him what Chisa was planning to write and he said he’d shut it down. He promised to let me be the one to talk to her but…he didn’t. While I was asleep, his lawyers contacted her.”

Jaehyun closes his eyes again, his expression pained. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “____, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I didn’t know what to do. I thought I could fix it but now everything’s a mess and I don’t know how to make it right.”

Yunho leans against your desk, his arms still crossed. “I’m trying to understand,” he says. “I really am but it’s hard…knowing what we do about your family, about your dad. It’s hard to watch you become a cheater just like him.”

His words hit you like a slap to the face, the way they echo Chisa’s make your breath catch in your throat. You stare at him, your eyes wide and unblinking. “That’s not fair. You don’t understand—none of you do.”

“Then help me understand! Because right now all I see is someone who betrayed her best friend for a man who doesn’t even deserve her.” Yunho says.

“Heeseung isn’t like that! He didn’t want any of this! He didn’t ask for the engagement or the image rehab or the lies! Heeseung…he doesn’t love Sakura. His parents forced him into it. You don’t know what he’s been through—” You say desperately.

Yunho cuts you off, scoffing. “He’s twenty-three years old, ____. I’m sure he’s more than capable of telling mommy and daddy no.”

Your heart drops at the way Yunho dismisses your words. You open your mouth to defend Heeseung but Yunho continues. “And Sakura? What about her? What does she get out of all this? Articles calling her a dumb ditzy princess who falls for common trash?”

You shake your head, your frustration mounting. “It’s not like that! He didn’t want to use her—he never wanted any of this! He’s not a bad person!”

“And we’re just supposed to take your word for it? You’ve known him for what—a month? And now you’re his biggest defender? Come on, ____.”

“Because someone has to defend him!” you snap, the words tumbling out raw and sharp. “You think Heeseung could just walk away? You don’t know what it’s like to have every choice stripped away from you, to have your entire life planned out before you even get the chance to think about what you want!” Yunho’s brow furrows, his posture stiffening but he doesn’t interrupt this time. He’s listening now, even if he doesn’t want to.

“You think it’s simple to just say no? His entire life has been dictated by his parents. Every decision he’s ever made has been for them and their image. They don’t care about who he is or what he wants, Yunho. They only care about what he can do for them. Do you have any idea what that does to a person?”

Yunho exhales sharply, his frustration clearly mounting but you don’t care. “Heeseung isn’t perfect but he’s not the villain you’re making him out to be. He’s trying. He’s been trying his whole life to survive in a world that’s never given him the chance to just…be so don’t you dare stand there and tell me he doesn’t deserve a little compassion.” You spit out furiously.

Yunho and Jaehyun exchange a look, both of them visibly taken aback by the depth of your words. For the first time Yunho seems to hesitate, the certainty in his stance faltering. “And Sakura?” Yunho asks again, though this time his voice is softer. “Where does she fit into all of this? Doesn’t she deserve compassion, too?”

Guilt surges in your chest but you don’t let it stop you. “She does,” you admit quietly. “She doesn’t deserve any of this but the guilt I feel for her doesn’t even come close to what I feel for Heeseung.”

Yunho’s eyes widen slightly and Jaehyun shifts uncomfortably beside you. “If Sakura has to be hurt for Heeseung to finally have a chance to be himself then so be it. She’ll survive this but Heeseung? He won’t, not if he keeps living for them. Not if he keeps sacrificing himself for a life he doesn’t even want. I’d sacrifice Sakura over and over again if it means he gets a chance at happiness.”

Yunho runs a hand down his face, visibly struggling with everything you’ve just laid bare. “But Chisa—” he begins, only for you to cut him off.

“Chisa didn’t even give me a chance to explain before calling me a dumb bitch, calling me a cheater and saying I’m just like my father,” you say, your voice trembling with a mixture of hurt and anger. “I took it. I let her say it. I convinced myself she was right. Didn’t bother to defend myself but now? Now I know she had no right to say those things without knowing the full story.”

Yunho flinches and frowns at your words. “You accused me of being Heeseung’s biggest defender and maybe I am but that’s only because no one else has ever defended him, not the way he deserves. You think I didn’t feel like crap when I realized I liked him? Why do you think I took that week off work? Why do you think I locked myself in my room for days, crying and avoiding you all? I was ashamed. Ashamed that I let myself fall for him knowing I couldn’t have him. I didn’t want this to happen—I didn’t want to turn into my father but Heeseung…Heeseung is the only one who told me I’m nothing like him.”

Your voice cracks and a tear slips down your cheek but you don’t bother wiping it away. “So no, you don’t get to call him common trash. You don’t get to say he doesn’t deserve me or that Chisa was right because no one has ever seen Heeseung for who he really is. He’s kind—so kind it’s almost painful because it’s like he’s spent his entire life trying to prove he’s worthy of the love he’s never been given.” You pause, noticing for the first time how quiet Yunho has been. His arms are no longer crossed, his expression unreadable as he watches you. Jaehyun’s gaze flickers between you and Yunho, his brow furrowed but he doesn’t say anything either.

“He’s endured so much pain, more than you know. He’s…” You pause, swallowing hard as you feel your throat tighten. For a moment, the image of Heejoon flashes in your mind, you want to tell them but you know you can’t. That’s the most precious part of Heeseung’s life and he doesn’t share it for a reason. He deserves to be the one to tell his story—not you.

“the truth is…if anything, I don’t deserve him but for some reason, he chose me. He’s never stopped caring for me within the time I’ve known him, even when I tried to push him away. Out of everyone I know, Heeseung is more than deserving of unconditional love so if it has to be me to show him that, then I’ll do it. I’ll do it with everything I have.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Yunho looks at you like he doesn’t know what to say, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally gives up. Without another word, he turns and walks toward the door. You watch him go, the pit in your stomach growing when you stop him at the door and ask, “Knowing what you do now, do you understand how nuanced it is?”

Yunho pauses but doesn’t look back. “Black and white or not, the facts don’t change. Heeseung used Sakura, cheated on her and now you’re caught in the crossfire. You betrayed Chisa for him, ____. You have to own that.”

You let out a bitter laugh, almost mocking as you say, “I can own that this didn’t happen the right way but it doesn’t justify what Chisa said. She didn’t even give me a chance to explain.”

Yunho doesn’t respond, his expression tight as he finally leaves the room. Jaehyun remains, his silence heavy as he watches you carefully. You don’t say anything but when Jaehyun moves closer and gently pulls you into a hug, you let yourself fall into it. His presence working as a gentle reminder that not everyone has turned their back on you.

Jaehyun doesn’t speak but his thoughts race. Do you even realize it? he wonders. The way you talk about Heeseung, the way you fight for him, it’s out of love. It’s as clear as day, even if you’re too afraid to call it that yet.

He doesn’t know Heeseung’s full story but seeing the way you’ve defended him, the depth of your love, weather you’re ready to admit that you’re in love with him, the rawness of your emotions—he understands one thing for sure: whatever this is between you and Heeseung, it’s real. And for that, he’s happy for you, even if it comes at a cost. Before Jaehyun can say anything, your phone buzzes. You sigh, reluctantly pulling away from him to silence it but when you see the name on the screen; Heeseung, you freeze. Jaehyun’s gaze flickers to your face, his concern evident. “You okay?”

You hesitate, your thumb hovering over the screen before nodding faintly. “Yeah.” Then, against your better judgment, you answer. “Hello?”

There’s a pause on the other end, followed by Heeseung’s voice, soft and tentative. “Have you been crying?”

You sniff and shake your head, even though he can’t see you. “No,” you say, the lie painfully obvious in your trembling voice.

Heeseung sighs. “Did you…did you see the articles?”

You swallow hard. “Yeah,” you reply softly.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t want any of this to happen.”

You close your eyes, exhaling a shaky breath. “I know but I…” You pause, the weight of your next words nearly crushing you. “I think I need space.”

The line goes silent and for a moment you wonder if the call dropped but then Heeseung’s voice comes back, barely above a whisper. “What?”

“I need space,” you repeat, your throat tightening with emotion.

Heeseung exhales sharply, almost like a whimper and you can hear the panic creeping into his tone. “Don’t…don’t do this. Please. I’ll fix it—I’ll make it right. Just don’t—”

You cut him off, your voice firm despite the tears threatening to spill. “You promised that you’d let me be the one to tell Chisa but you went behind my back and called your lawyers. You overstepped, Heeseung.”

“I—” Heeseung stammers, his voice trembling. “I didn’t want you to have to tell her. I didn’t want you to be the one to tell your best friend that you were the reason why her dreams can’t come true. I was just trying to protect you.”

Your throat constricts, tears slipping down your cheeks. Of course he was trying to help but still you shake your head. “Intentions aside, it didn’t help,” you say softly. “It only made her angrier. It’s not your fault she posted it but…maybe it could’ve been avoided if I was the one to tell her.”

Heeseung is silent for a long moment, thinking over what you’ve said. Finally, he speaks, his voice barely audible. “Are you…are you ending things with me?”

The tears come harder now but you fight to keep your voice steady. “No,” you whisper. “I just need space.”

Inside, his mind is spiraling. This is exactly how it ended with Karina. She had said the same words—I need space. He gave her what she asked for, even though it felt like ripping out a piece of himself. He waited, hoping she would come back but instead she left. Now, he feels that same panic clawing at his chest, that same helplessness. He’s trying to stay calm, trying to be understanding but the fear is overwhelming. He wonders if you even realize what you’re doing to him, how much influence you have over him. He wonders if you know how terrified he is that you’ll leave, that he’ll lose you just like he lost her.

To Heeseung, this isn’t just a request for space—it’s a step toward the end and the thought of losing you, the only person who’s ever seen him for who he truly is, leaves him feeling like he can’t breathe. You’ve become his anchor, the one thing keeping him steady in a world that has always demanded too much of him. The idea of losing that—losing you—is unbearable.

He’s fumbling now, searching for the right words, anything to make you stay but he can feel himself faltering. His throat tightens as he fights back the tears threatening to spill. He doesn’t want to scare you, doesn’t want to push you further away but his fear is eating him alive. “Okay,” he says finally, his voice strained. “Whenever you’re ready…I’ll be here.”

“Okay,” you whisper, your heart breaking as you hang up the call.

The phone slips from your hand and you cover your face with your hands as the sobs finally escape. Jaehyun doesn’t say a word, simply watching you with a mixture of sadness and understanding. After a moment, he stands and reaches out his hand to you. You take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Without a word he leads you to the bed pulling back the covers and settling you both beneath them. He wraps his arms around you, his warmth grounding you as he gently rubs your back.

“I know it hurts but that was the right decision. You both just need time and space right now. The media won’t do you any favors if they see you together.” Jaehyun mummers.

You bury your face in his chest, his steady heartbeat calming your ragged breaths. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his arms tightening around you. “Everything will be okay,” he says quietly.

You sniff before asking. “Sleep over?”

Jaehyun hums quietly. “You didn’t even need to ask.”

THE NEXT MORNING

The next morning is quiet. Sunlight filters through the blinds but the warmth doesn’t reach you. You sit on the edge of your bed sluggishly putting on socks as Jaehyun moves around your room buttoning up the dress shirt he borrowed from your closet. His slacks from the night before are wrinkled but he doesn’t seem to care. The silence between you is comforting, you’re grateful for his presence. Without him last night would’ve been unbearable. “You okay?” he asks, his voice gentle as he adjusts the cuffs of his sleeves.

You nod, though the tightness in your chest hasn’t eased. “I will be.”

He crosses the room and offers you his hand, helping you to your feet. Together you head out into the apartment. The air shifts as you step into the kitchen to grab water. Chisa and Yunho are at the island, bowls of cereal in front of them, their conversation halting the moment you appear. Yunho glances up briefly, guilt flickering across his face before he looks away. Chisa doesn’t even acknowledge you. Jaehyun stiffens beside you. His jaw ticks, his hand twitching at his side. You know he’s holding back, barely restraining himself from saying something. Before the tension can boil over, he grabs your hand, leading you to the door disregarding your water.

Jaehyun is already huffy as the elevator doors close behind you, his annoyance practically radiating off him. “I don’t know what Yunho’s problem is,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “He knows more about the situation and he still sides with her? Unbelievable.”

You sigh, leaning back against the elevator wall. “Jaehyun, Yunho is your roommate. I really don’t want you two arguing over this.”

He snorts, his expression sour as he crosses his arms. “Roommate or not, he’s in the wrong, and you know it.”

You glance at him, frowning. “Yunho’s in a tough spot too. I’m sure he doesn’t mean anything by it—”

Jaehyun cuts you off with a scoff. “A tough spot? Please. What’s tough about it? He’s sitting there like nothing’s happened while she’s acting like you don’t even exist. He could at least say something but no. He’s just going along with it.”

You rub your temples. “Jaehyun, I don’t want this to turn into some big thing between you two. You’re both my friends—”

“That doesn’t mean I have to stay quiet when he’s being a jerk,” Jaehyun interjects, his voice rising slightly. His pouty expression only deepens as he leans back against the opposite wall, glaring at the elevator panel as it counts down the floors. “Honestly, if this is what ‘friends’ do, maybe I don’t need—”

“Jaehyun,” you say softly, cutting him off. “Please. Can we not do this right now? I’m too tired to deal with more fighting.”

He presses his lips into a thin line, his frustration simmering just below the surface. For a moment, the only sound is the soft hum of the elevator descending but then Jaehyun sighs, running a hand down his face. “Fine,” he grumbles, though his posture stays tense. “But I’m not letting this go. Yunho needs to get his priorities straight.”

You shake your head knowing this is the best you’ll get for now. Before you can say anything else, the elevator dings and the doors slide open. The conversation halts as you both freeze. A swarm of reporters crowds the entrance to the building, their cameras flashing so brightly it feels like a strobe light. Voices overlap, a mess of questions that are impossible to decipher at first but as the initial shock wears off, fragments start to cut through the noise.

“Are the rumors true?”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Is he breaking off the engagement for you?”

“Did you seduce him during counseling?”

“Are you worried about Sakura’s response?”

Your breath hitches, panic rising in your chest. They shouldn’t even know where you live. How did they find you? Your feet refuse to move as you stare at the crowd in disbelief. Jaehyun’s arm comes around you protectively, pulling you back behind him. “Out of the way,” he barks, his voice sharp and commanding. The reporters barely flinch, cameras still pointed in your direction, questions coming faster and louder.

“Do you have anything to say about being one of Lee Heeseung’s women?”

“Are you proud of ruining someone’s engagement?”

“Is this how you climb the corporate ladder, sleeping with clients?”

That last one cuts deep but before you can react Jaehyun steps forward, his body tense and brimming with fury. “Screw off,” he snaps, glaring at the reporter who dared to say it.

“Jaehyun, don’t,” you whisper, tugging at his arm.

But the reporter smirks, sensing an opportunity. “Oh, is this your new knight in shining armor? Maybe you’ve already moved on from Heeseung. Or is he just a backup?”

Jaehyun’s jaw clenches, his fist tightening at his side. He takes a step forward and for a moment you think he might actually swing at the man. “Stop,” you say firmly, grabbing his arm with both hands. “Jaehyun, it’s not worth it! Please!”

He hesitates, his chest heaving as he glares down at the reporter. The man looks smug, like he’s won but Jaehyun doesn’t take the bait. He exhales sharply through his nose and turns back to you, his hand immediately going to your back as he ushers you toward his car. The questions don’t stop, the reporters following you across the sidewalk. “How does it feel to be the other woman?” one shouts, his voice loud enough to echo in your ears. You bite your lip, trying to hold back tears as Jaehyun shields you from the cameras. “Back off!”

He opens the passenger door for you, practically shoving you into the seat before slamming it shut. The reporters are relentless, snapping photos through the windshield as Jaehyun rounds the car and gets in. He slams his door shut with a force that rattles the frame and grips the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white. For a moment, neither of you moves. The car is silent except for the muffled noise outside. You’re staring straight ahead, your hands clasped tightly in your lap, trying to steady your breathing. Jaehyun’s voice breaks the silence. “Are you okay?”

You nod stiffly, though you’re not sure if it’s true. “How did they even find me?” you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

“I don’t know.”

The car pulls away from the curb, the reporters scattering to avoid being hit. You glance at the rearview mirror and see them still snapping pictures even as you drive off. Your chest feels tight, every camera flash burned into your mind. The ride to the office is quiet, almost stifling. Jaehyun keeps one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gear shift. His jaw is set, his expression unreadable. You can tell he’s angry—angry at the reporters, at Yunho, maybe even at himself but he doesn’t say anything.

You stare out the window, the city passing by in a blur. The silence feels heavy but you don’t have the energy to break it. Your mind is racing, replaying the scene over and over again. The questions, the accusations, the cameras. You feel exposed, like the world is staring at you, examining your every move. Jaehyun’s fingers drum against the gear shift, a rare sign of nervousness. When he glances at you at a red light, his gaze softens. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

You shake your head. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

He doesn’t push, simply nodding and turning back to the road. The rest of the ride is spent in the same heavy silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts. When you finally pull into the parking garage at the matchmaking firm Jaehyun turns off the engine and sits back, his hands falling into his lap. He stares ahead for a moment before looking at you. “You’ve got this.”

You manage a small nod though you don’t feel nearly as confident as he sounds. Together, you step out of the car and head for the building. As you ride up to the seventh floor the silence returns but this time, it feels more like a shared understanding. Jaehyun stands close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours, a silent reminder that he’s there. When the elevator doors slide open, the energy in the office hits you like a wave. It’s busier than usual, people rushing around with papers and tablets, whispers and side glances following you as you step out.

You freeze, your heart sinking as you realize just how much attention is on you. Jaehyun doesn’t miss a beat, his hand finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Ignore them,” he murmurs. “Just keep walking.”

You take a deep breath and let him guide you through the maze of desks and stares but when you reach your shared office and push open the door, you stop in your tracks. Miss Min is waiting for you, her expression stormy as she stands in the center of the room. The air feels heavy, like all the oxygen has been sucked out. Jaehyun tenses beside you and you inwardly sigh already knowing this won’t be good. “What were you thinking?”

You bow your head slightly, already shrinking under her disapproval.

“I put you on Heeseung and Sakura’s case to help them,” she continues, her words laced with barely restrained anger. “To help them build a strong foundation for their marriage—not to fall in love with Heeseung, ruin any chance he and Sakura had and drag this firm’s name through the mud!”

Jaehyun immediately steps forward. “Miss Min—”

“Don’t you dare,” she snaps, sending him a glare so fierce it makes him stop in his tracks. His mouth closes and he bows his head clearly understanding that this isn’t the moment to argue.

Tears prick at your eyes but you force them down, your throat tight as you bow deeply. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m so sorry.”

Miss Min’s hard expression falters, her eyes softening as she looks at your hunched and fragile form. For a long moment she simply stares at you, her anger seemingly dissipating with each passing second. Finally, she exhales heavily and leans against your desk, her stance less rigid. “I…” she begins softly, her voice almost hesitant. “I understand.”

That catches both you and Jaehyun off guard. You straighten slightly, your watery eyes flickering to her face and Jaehyun glances at her with barely concealed shock. Miss Min doesn’t meet either of your gazes as she continues, her voice growing quieter. “I was in your shoes once.”

You exchange a quick wide-eyed glance with Jaehyun before looking back at her.

“It wasn’t exactly the same,” she says, her tone reflective, almost distant. “But it was my first big case. I was counseling a couple—two people who looked perfect on paper but couldn’t quite find their rhythm together. The husband…he was everything I admired. Intelligent, compassionate, funny in an unassuming way. I didn’t mean to develop feelings but I did. It was unprofessional and I knew it.”

Her fingers brush the edge of your desk as though anchoring herself. “I told myself it wasn’t real, that I was just projecting my admiration but the feelings grew stronger and then…he admitted he felt something for me too.” Her lips tighten into a grim line. “They were already struggling. His wife had one foot out the door but she still wanted to try and that was enough for me to make a decision.”

You hold your breath, hanging on her every word while Jaehyun shifts beside you looking just as invested. Miss Min lets out a small, bitter laugh. “I removed myself from the case and walked away. I thought it was the right thing to do—and it was—but it didn’t make it any easier. For years, I wondered what would’ve happened if I’d stayed. If I’d given in. I don’t know if they stayed together or if their marriage fell apart in the end. I just knew I couldn’t live with myself if I crossed that line.”

She finally meets your eyes, her expression softer but no less serious. “That’s why I started this firm—to help people navigate the messiness of relationships. To give them the tools they need to make it work—or the courage to walk away when it doesn’t. To help people find their person because I’ve seen how easy it is to blur the lines when emotions are involved and I didn’t want anyone else to pass up the opportunity of love like I did.”

Her gaze flickers between you and Jaehyun, her features unreadable for a moment. “I know this is complicated. I know Heeseung’s life hasn’t been easy, that much is clear in his file and I know you’re not someone who would hurt people intentionally but these feelings…they can ruin lives if you’re not careful.”

She pauses then exhales deeply. “It seems Heeseung has made his choice and while I may not agree with how things unfolded, I also know matters of the heart rarely follow logic.” The words hang in the air, not quite a reprimand but far from approval. There’s a hint of understanding, an acknowledgment of your struggle but also a warning not to let this spiral further.

Miss Min exhales again, her professional demeanor slipping back into place. “I don’t think it’s best for you to be in the office right now. I want you to work from home for the next few days. I’ll send you some questionnaires to work on in the meantime.” She says firmly.

You nod quickly, your voice quiet. “I understand.”

Miss Min gives a curt nod before turning to Jaehyun. “Jaehyun, you should take the day off too. I’m sure she’ll need a friend.”

Jaehyun blinks, clearly startled by her unexpected kindness. He bows slightly. “Thank you, Miss Min.” Miss Min nods stiffly and brushes past you both, pausing briefly in the doorway as if she wants to say something more but she doesn’t, leaving the room without another word. The door clicks shut and for a moment you and Jaehyun simply stand there, stunned.

“I was fully expecting to be fired,” you finally whisper, letting out a shaky breath.

Jaehyun snorts, a small, incredulous smile tugging at his lips. “Me too.”

You both laugh softly, the tension breaking just slightly as you glance at each other. Then, without another word, you grab your things and head out of the firm together. Jaehyun glances over as he unlocks his car, his brows furrowed slightly in curiosity. “So,” he begins, drumming his fingers lightly against the steering wheel, “what should we do with our unexpected day off?”

You chew your bottom lip, contemplating. There are a dozen things you could do to distract yourself, to fill the quiet but none of them feel right. Finally, you look at him and ask softly, “Do you mind dropping me off at Heeseung’s?”

Jaehyun’s brows shoot up in surprise. “Are you sure?”

You nod, fiddling with the hem of your sweater, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah. I think I’m ready to talk now.”

He studies you for a moment, his surprise giving way to a look of understanding. With a small nod, he opens the drivers side and gets in. “Okay. Get in—I’ll drop you off.”

You smile softly, appreciating his lack of questions. Sliding into the passenger seat, you fasten your seatbelt as he pulls out of the parking lot. The drive is quiet, the radio playing faintly in the background. When he pulls up in front of Heeseung’s home, he parks before turning to look at you. “If you need me, just call, okay?”

You nod, offering him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Jaehyun.”

He waves you off with a small smirk. “Go on. Don’t keep him waiting.”

You watch as he drives off, his car disappearing around the corner. Taking a deep breath, you turn to face the large home. Each step up the stairs feels heavier than the last, your heart thudding in your chest as you reach his door. Hesitantly, you raise your hand and knock. The seconds stretch into what feels like an eternity. You shift on your feet, debating whether to knock again or leave when finally the door swings open.

Heeseung stands there, his brows furrowed in irritation, likely expecting someone else but the second his eyes land on you, the scowl melts away, replaced by pure, unfiltered relief. His shoulders drop, the tension in his posture evaporating as he stares at you like he can’t believe you’re really there. Before you can say anything he reaches out pulling you into his arms without hesitation. His hold is firm, almost desperate as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice cracking slightly. “I’m so, so sorry.”

You stiffen for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of his hug but then you relax, your arms slowly wrapping around him in return. Heeseung doesn’t let go. If anything his grip tightens, his voice trembling as he continues. “I—I can’t go through it again. I can’t lose you too. I’ll say I’m sorry a thousand times over if I have to. I’ll never upset you again, I won’t overstep, I swear.” His words come out in a rush, panic bleeding into his tone. “Please, please don’t leave me.”

Your breath hitches at the vulnerability in his voice, the way he clings to you. It hits you then, how deeply your silence must have affected him. Of course he would think you were leaving him, after everything he’s been through, after what happened with Karina. You tighten your hold on him. “I’m sorry, Heeseung. I didn’t mean to reinforce that fear. I just…I needed time.”

He pulls back slightly, his dark eyes searching your face, his expression still tinged with desperation. You reach up, cupping his cheek gently and look him straight in the eyes. “I’m not Karina. I won’t leave you, Heeseung.”

His breath catches, his lips parting as he stares at you, the words sinking in. Slowly, the panic in his gaze begins to ease, replaced by something softer, more fragile. “I mean it,” you whisper, your thumb brushing against his cheekbone. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Heeseung exhales shakily, leaning into your touch as if he’s finally allowing himself to believe you. “I’m sorry,” he says again, his voice quieter this time.

You shake your head. “It’s okay.” You offer him a small smile. “Come on,” you say gently, stepping past him into the house. “Let’s talk.”

Heeseung nods, closing the door behind you as you both make your way to the living room. He gestures toward the couch and you sit down, the plush cushions sinking under your weight. Heeseung sits beside you close enough that your knees touch and then to your surprise, he reaches for your hand, his larger one engulfing yours. You glance down at your joined hands but you don’t pull away. Instead, you let out a slow breath and let him hold you. Heeseung’s thumb brushes gently against your knuckles. “You wanted to talk?”

You nod, looking up to meet his gaze. “Yeah, how did it go with Sakura?”

Heeseung tenses, his fingers tightening slightly around yours before relaxing again. He exhales deeply and leans back against the couch, his jaw tightening as he looks away. “Not good. I tried to explain everything to her but she was—” He pauses, searching for the right word. “She was furious. Hurt. I don’t think I said anything that made her feel any better.”

Your shoulders sag as you take in his words. “I’m so sorry, Heeseung, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I need to apologize to her too. She—”

Heeseung cuts you off, before you can protest he shifts closer releasing your hand to wrap his arms around you and pull you into his chest. His chin rests lightly against the top of your head as he speaks. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. She’s really hurt right now and I don’t think she’d be receptive to anything you have to say.”

You sigh, the warmth of his embrace softening some of the ache in your chest. Slowly, you let yourself melt against him, your back pressing to his chest as his arms hold you securely. “You’re probably right.”

Heeseung rests his cheek against your hair, his own sigh escaping as he holds you close. He doesn’t tell you about the harsh words Sakura threw his way. You’re not capable of loving anyone. The phrase still echoes in his mind, a cruel reminder of his past and all the ways he’s tried to run from it but he doesn’t want to burden you with that…not when you’re already carrying so much. “How are you holding up?” he asks after a while, breaking the quiet.

You hesitate. “I’m fine,” you say but when he doesn’t respond, just keeps holding you, you add, “Okay, maybe not fine but I’m managing.” You tilt your head slightly to glance up at him. “Jaehyun’s been amazing. He’s been helping me out a lot, I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Heeseung hums softly, his chin brushing against your hair. “I’m glad you have him.”

You snort softly, a faint smile tugging at your lips as you remember this morning “You should’ve seen him earlier with the reporters. I’ve never seen him so angry and protective.”

“Reporters?”

You hesitate before nodding. “Yeah…there were reporters outside my place this morning when I was leaving for work.”

His arms tighten around you instantly, his protective instincts kicking in. “I’m so sorry,” he mutters. “I’ll sue every last one of them for invading your privacy. I swear—”

“No, Heeseung.” You shake your head, cutting him off. “This is the price I have to pay and I doubt they’ll be the last reporters I’ll have to deal with. You can’t sue every single one of them. You’d go broke.”

Heeseung snorts softly, a hint of his signature smirk returning. He leans down to press a kiss to your neck, murmuring against your skin, “I’m insanely loaded. Trust me, that’ll never happen.”

You laugh. “Of course you’d say that.”

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence and Heeseung rests his cheek against the top of your head. “Wait—you said you were on your way to work. Why aren’t you there now?”

You chew on your bottom lip before answering. “I’ve technically been put on administrative leave,” you admit reluctantly. “Miss Min thinks it’s best for me to work from home for a while. It’s probably because none of my clients want to work with me.”

“I’m sorry. I never meant to put you in this position.”

You shake your head quickly. “It’s okay. It’ll all blow over eventually.”

Heeseung doesn’t argue but the crease in his brows lingers as he pulls you closer. His cheek rests against the top of your head and he exhales softly, his arms tightening around you. His thoughts swirl but one thing becomes clear in the silence: I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.

Heeseung grabs the remote, flipping through channels aimlessly and you settle deeper into his hold. The comfort of his warmth and the hum of the TV lulls you both into a peaceful rhythm. Time passes and just as a soft laugh escapes you at a kdrama, your stomach growls loudly. Heeseung pauses, blinking before tilting his head down to glance at you. “Have you eaten?”

You hesitate, avoiding his gaze. “Not…yet.”

Heeseung clicks his tongue in faux disapproval and taps your hips. “Off.”

“What?” you ask, confused but you shift forward to let him move.

The second you’re upright, he surprises you by scooping you up effortlessly. “Heeseung!” you gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as your hands grab his shoulders.

“You’re coming with me. I need to feed my baby.”

Your face heats up and you shove your face into his neck to hide your smile. Heeseung chuckles, his chest vibrating against yours as he carries you to the kitchen.

He sets you down on the counter, kissing your cheek before turning to open the fridge. “What are you craving?”

You think for a moment. “Ramen.”

Heeseung pauses, then smirks at you over his shoulder. “You’re in luck. I happen to be a ramen expert.”

“Oh, really?” you tease, craning your neck as he moves to his pantry. Your jaw drops as he swings the door open, revealing shelves stacked with every type of ramen imaginable. “Heeseung do you have a secret ramen hoarding problem?” you joke and he laughs, pulling down two packs of Shin ramen.

“Call it being prepared,” he says, setting the ramen packs on the counter before returning to the fridge for ingredients. He pulls out green onions, eggs and a pack of thinly sliced beef, placing them next to the stove.

You watch him work, the focused yet easy way he moves around the kitchen and you find yourself smiling. “So, what makes you a ramen expert?”

“It’s all about balance,” he replies seriously. “You’ve gotta add the right toppings to take it from good to legendary.”

“Legendary, huh?”

“Legendary,” he repeats, grabbing a small pot and filling it with water. As he heats the water and preps the toppings, you rest your chin on your hand, watching him quietly. Heeseung looks over at you mid-chop, catching your gaze. He grins, shaking his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say but your cheeks warm as he focuses back on the cutting board.

The scent of broth fills the kitchen, rich and savory and your stomach growls again. Heeseung chuckles, gently flicking your forehead as he plates the ramen in two bowls. “Patience. Good ramen takes time.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The two of you sit at the kitchen island bowls of ramen in front of you, the soft clinking of chopsticks filling the air. Heeseung is completely immersed in his food, his brows furrowed in concentration like the ramen is the most important thing in the world. It makes you smile, watching him like this; at ease, so unapologetically himself.

You’re not even hungry anymore, not really. Your eyes keep drifting to him and before you know it, you’re lost in your thoughts. This is my safe person, you think, your fingers resting idly on the rim of your bowl. How did I get so lucky?

For so long, you convinced yourself that love wasn’t for you. Passing flings in university seemed easier—no strings, no commitment, no risk of heartbreak. You told yourself it was better that way, better than giving someone the power to shatter you because falling in love? That meant letting someone see all the messy, broken parts of you and praying they’d still choose to stay. It meant opening your world to them, giving them everything you had and hoping they’d do the same. It meant trusting that love would be enough.

And that scared you. It terrified you.

You’d seen what love could do—what it had done to your mother. She had bared her soul to your father, loved him so deeply and so fully only for him to betray her over and over again. Finding comfort in other women’s arms while your mother stayed, hoping he’d come back to her, hoping she was enough. You’d promised yourself you’d never let that be your life because in what world would you ever find a man who wouldn’t do the same? But then came Heeseung.

Heeseung, who always makes you feel like you’re enough, Heeseung, who loves without expecting anything in return. Heeseung, who has seen some of those messy, broken parts of you and only held you closer. Falling in love doesn’t seem so scary if it’s Lee Heeseung you’re falling with. Your heart flutters and for the first time it’s not out of fear. There’s nothing scary about loving Heeseung.

And that’s when it hits you. You’re falling in love with him.

The realization tightens your chest but not in the suffocating way you’ve always feared. It’s warm, like sunlight breaking through a cold cloudy day. You glance at him again, at the way his lips curl in satisfaction after every bite, completely unaware of your staring. Heeseung is a gift from God himself. Love personified.

“Do I have something on my face?” His voice pulls you from your thoughts, his head tilted slightly in curiosity.

You blink, startled and quickly shake your head. “No, nothing. Just…thinking.” He doesn’t press, only nodding before returning to his food. The rest of the meal passes quietly, your heart still racing as you steal glances at him, overwhelmed by the realization of just how much you care for him.

When you’ve both finished, Heeseung stands to gather the dishes, nudging your shoulder with his. “Come on,” he says, smiling. “Let’s clean up.” You follow him to the sink, the two of you falling into a rhythm; him drying as you wash. It’s a small simple thing but it feels so intimate, like something you’ve done a hundred times before and will do a hundred times again.

Just as you finish rinsing the last bowl, you turn to grab a towel and suddenly find yourself cornered against the counter. Heeseung’s hands cage you in on either side and the teasing glint in his eyes makes your breath hitch. “You missed something,” he murmurs, his voice low and before you can ask what, his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft at first, gentle and coaxing but the moment you relax into him, it deepens. Your hands slide up to wrap around his neck as his fingers curl around your waist, pulling you closer. You’ve missed this—missed him. Every press of his lips feels like a reminder of why you feel so safe with him, why you’re falling for him. When he finally pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, you’re breathless. Heeseung’s eyes flicker to your lips before a smirk tugs at his mouth.

“I could go for something sweet,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “How about you?”

You blink, still caught up in the kiss, your mind slow to catch up. “O-Oh. Okay,” you stammer, confused but willing. Dessert hadn’t even crossed your mind—not when all you wanted was to keep kissing him but Heeseung doesn’t move toward the fridge or the pantry. Instead, he drops to his knees in front of you, his hands sliding up your thighs, his smirk deepening as realization dawns on your face.

“Lucky for me,” he says softly, “I already have exactly what I’m craving.”

He gently caresses your calf, looking up at you before softly asking. “Is this okay?” You nod breathlessly allowing him to make quick work of unzipping your skirt and pushing it down your legs to sneak his hand into your underwear, his cold fingers brush against your heat, causing you to jolt and elicit a moan from your lips.

“Fuck. You’re dripping, baby.” He rubs your clit slowly, making you squirm in the process. “You got this turned on from just a little kissing?” He teases as he pulls down your underwear.

“God you’re so beautiful.” He says before placing a kiss on the inside of your thighs. “I’m so lucky.”

Heeseung then slips his finger into your core, running his finger along your slit and then circles your clit. He pinches it slightly, which makes you jolt again. “Heeseung…” he then gathers your wetness with his fingers and pushes his pointer and middle finger into you. The sensation of his fingers inside you is enough to make you cry and moan his name.

“You’re so tight princess” He thrusts his fingers in and out of you and uses his thumb to circle your clit. You almost double over from the lack of support, so you drape your arms across his neck and throw your head back. Heeseung watches you slowly come undone with just his fingers and his chest blooms with pride, he enjoys how you squirm above him and how he can feel your walls clench around his fingers. Your toes curl and your breathing becomes uneven, a telltale sign you're about to come. “H-heeseung I’m gonna..” You whimper.

But to your displeasure he quickly pulls his fingers out of you before you can go over the edge. You send a glare his way, upset he had taken your orgasm away but he only sends you a level stare, “watch yourself princess.” Heeseung leans back on the heels of his feet and stares at your dripping cunt, admiring it before he places his head between your thighs. “So pretty.” He kisses your inner thigh slowly and sucks on the small patch of skin causing a bruise to form. Once he’s satisfied with the mark he’s left, he turns his attention back to your hardened bud. He nibbles on your clit slowly and laveshes it with his tongue. He swipes his hot tongue against your slit, devouring you like a starved man. It doesn’t take long for you to reach your high again, your impending orgasm comes hurling at you causing your legs to buckle and hips jerk uncontrollably. “Heeseung I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for me,” He licks at your sweet arousal, making you moan his name and move your hands to tug at his hair causing him to moan directly on your clit. “Fuck you taste so good.” He flicks his tongue one last time and it’s enough to send you over the edge. Your head falls back and your vision blurs as you cum all over Heeseung’s face but he doesn’t stop, he continues to lap up your juices and kisses at your now overly sensitive clit. You grind down on his mouth and allow yourself to ride out the orgasm until he pulls away.

“Thank you baby.” He says softly before standing. You blush at him not entirely sure what to say. 

When he notices the slight wobble in your legs as you shift, he smirks and shakes his head, scooping you up into his arms. You yelp, wrapping your arms around his neck in surprise.

“Heeseung, I can walk!”

“You could try but I’d rather carry you.”

You huff softly, your blush deepening but you don’t argue. You rest your head against his shoulder as he carries you upstairs, his strong arms holding you securely. When you reach his bathroom, Heeseung sets you on your feet and begins to unbutton your top gently, his fingers brushing your skin as he helps you undress. You shiver under his touch, not from the cool air but from the intimacy of it all. Once he’s helped you strip down, he does the same.

He steps into the shower first, adjusting the water to the perfect temperature before holding out his hand for you. You take it, letting him pull you under the warm spray.

It’s quiet at first, the water cascading over both of you as you lean into each other. Heeseung reaches for a loofah, lathering it with his body wash before running it over your arms, your back, your sides. He presses soft kisses to your shoulders and neck as he works, his lips lingering as though he can’t get enough of you. When it’s your turn to wash him, you try to return the favor from earlier, your hands brushing lower but he gently stops you. Shaking his head he cups your face, his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss. “I just wanted to please you,” he murmurs against your lips. “I don’t need anything in return.”

You don’t argue. When the shower is over he wraps you in a towel, drying you off gently before grabbing one of his oversized tees and a pair of his boxers. He helps you slip into them, smiling at how his clothes nearly swallow you whole then he quickly pulls on his boxers and pajama pants before leading you to his bed.

The two of you settle under the covers, Heeseung pulling you into his arms as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. You snuggle against his chest, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as his hand traces lazy shapes on your back.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Heeseung speaks. “My mom called me yesterday.”

“Oh?”

“After the article dropped,” he explains, his tone cautious. His fingers pause their movements briefly before resuming. “She…wants to meet you.”

The words catch you off guard, your mind racing with a dozen questions. “She does?”

He nods, his expression soft but unreadable. “She said she’d like to have dinner with us—both of us but…” Heeseung hesitates, his eyes searching yours. “I won’t force you. Everything’s on your terms. If you don’t want to just say the word and I’ll tell her no.”

You bite your lip, uncertainty settling in your chest. You think about what it would mean to sit through a dinner with his parents, to face their judgment head-on. Are their intentions good? Do they genuinely want to meet you or is this some veiled attempt to push you out of Heeseung’s life? Your mind drifts to your own parents and the wounds they left behind. You wonder if his family could ever be different—if there’s any love in their actions, any chance for something good to come from this.

After a long pause you let out a soft sigh, nodding against his chest. “Okay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “I’m open to it. When did they want to meet?”

Heeseung’s brows lift slightly in surprise, as though he hadn’t expected you to agree. “Next week,” he says softly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You smile faintly, trying to lighten the mood. “Okay. That gives me time to mentally prepare.”

Heeseung chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

You hum, your eyes drifting closed as his warmth surrounds you. “You’ve only told me about a hundred times.” The two of you fall into silence again, the soft sound of your breathing filling the room and as you lie there in his arms, you can’t help but think that no matter what happens next week, it won’t be so scary if Heeseung is by your side.

THURSDAY FEBRUARY 27TH, 2025

The morning sun spills through Heeseung’s bedroom windows, warm and unfiltered. You’re tucked into his side, your legs tangled over his, arms lazily slung around each other. Heeseung presses light kisses to your temple, nose, jawline, nowhere in particular, really just savoring your presence like he’s still trying to believe you’re here, in his bed, choosing him. Your fingers toy with the hem of his shirt, worn and oversized, smelling like his detergent. Heeseung catches your lips in another soft kiss, smiling against your mouth. “Let’s go on a date.”

You blink at him, pulling back slightly. “Are you insane? I do not want to show my face out in public.”

Heeseung pouts. “Why not?”

You sit up slightly, propping yourself on your elbow. “I’m like public enemy number one right now. The last thing we should be doing is parading around the city like we’re on some fairytale getaway.”

“But we are on a fairytale getaway,” he says, eyes crinkling. “And I’m the prince who just wants to take his girl on a date.”

You roll your eyes, though your heart stutters. “Heeseung—”

He sits up fully now, facing you. “Give me one good reason not to. Other than what people might think.”

Your lips part but nothing comes out because truthfully, you don’t have a reason. You want to go, you want to walk beside him with his hand in yours but the idea of more public scrutiny scares you. “I don’t have anything to wear,” you mumble feebly, a nice cop-out.

Heeseung shrugs. “Then we’ll go shopping.”

You let out a breathy laugh and swat his chest. “Heeseung!”

“What? I want to show you off.” He grins, tugging you closer until you’re on his lap. “You’re finally mine. I’m not going to mess this up by not doing things right.”

You blink at him, your heart thudding wildly. You bite your bottom lip, trying to tamp down the smile curling its way onto your face. Your fingers reach up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Okay,” you whisper. “We can go on a date.” Heeseung fist pumps the air and you snort. “You’re such a dork.”

He kisses you again, full of so much warmth it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs. “I’ll have Jay drop something off for you to wear.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Jay?”

“Yeah,” he says, nonchalantly. “My best friend. Also my stylist.”

By the time Jay arrives, you and Heeseung have showered again, eaten breakfast and made out on the living room couch until you were both flushed and giggling like teenagers. You’re pouring tea when Heeseung opens the door for him. Jay steps into the kitchen with an easy smile. “Heard you had a wardrobe emergency.”

You hand him a mug. “Apparently.”

He takes it gratefully and nods toward Heeseung. “I think this date idea is a good move.”

You blush but murmur a quiet, “Thanks.”

Heeseung walks over and presses a kiss to your temple as you all sit at the island. The three of you chat over tea. Jay’s charismatic and warm, easy to like and you feel the tension melt from your shoulders as he talks about growing up with Heeseung. You watch them with fondness, heart swelling, you’re glad he has people like Jay in his corner. Eventually, Jay hands you the garment bag before heading out. You change into the outfit inside, a knee-length pastel yellow sundress and an oversized white cardigan. When you walk out, Heeseung is all over you in seconds.

“You’re killing me,” he murmurs against your cheek as he peppers it with kisses.

You laugh, blushing, and push at his chest. “You picked it.”

“Exactly. I have great taste.” He wraps his arm around your waist, leading you to his car. It’s a gorgeous day out—clear skies, no snow in sight, the temperature climbing toward the 70s. Spring is near and you silently thank global warming.

“Where are we going?” you ask as he drives.

“You’ll see,” he says, smirking. When he pulls up to a secluded park far from Seoul, your heart warms. Privacy. He chose this for you. Heeseung sets up the blanket and lays out the food he packed while you stand nearby, watching with adoration coloring your features. Once everything’s ready, he tugs you down to sit between his legs, your back pressed to his chest.

The two of you snack on fruit and sandwiches, feeding each other strawberries, cloud-gazing in between bites. You cuddle beneath the sun’s soft light, the world fading away in the safety of each other’s arms. Nothing else matters. Not here. Not now, not when he’s looking at you like you hung the sun.

Heeseung’s arms are warm around you, his breath fanning across your ear as he murmurs soft little nothings—occasional quips about the shape of that cloud, or how pretty you look in this lighting. You hum contentedly, your fingers lazily trailing over his forearm as you lean back against him. After a few quiet minutes, you shift slightly and glance up toward the sky, the clouds blurring past. Your voice is soft when you speak, a hesitant flutter of breath. “Do you think this’ll last?”

Heeseung pauses. You can feel the way his body stills beneath you, the way his arms pull just a little tighter. “I can’t see myself with anyone else…I really want this to last.” He says, his voice quieter than before.

You swallow, heart thudding. “Me too.” Your words are just as quiet, just as raw.

A beat passes before he speaks again. “Can I take you to meet Heejoon?”

You blink, caught completely off guard. You shift to look up at him. “Wait…what?”

Heeseung gives a sheepish little shrug, eyes flicking away for a second before they find yours again. “I don’t usually let people meet him. Not unless they’re really special to me…Heejoon is the most important person in my life and I’d really like it if you guys met.”

Your heart swells. Slowly, you press a kiss over his chest where your hand rests, right above his heart. “I’d be honored to meet him.”

A wide smile spreads across his face, something boyish and tender. He kisses the top of your head. “Great,” he murmurs. “I’ll plan it and send you the details.”

The two of you fall into a gentle silence again. The sky stretches above you, too blue to be real. You shift again, voice tentative. “Do you…ever think about getting married?”

Heeseung hums. “Yeah,” he says after a second. “All the time, actually.”

You blink. “Really?”

He chuckles lightly. “I want to see you in a dress,” he admits. “I’d probably cry when you walk down the aisle. Like full-on ugly cry but I’ll try to be cool about it.” You laugh softly but he keeps going. “We’d have a wedding somewhere warm, like a garden or something and for our honeymoon…” He grins. “I’m thinking Greece. Santorini. White rooftops, sunsets, you in a tiny red swimsuit”

You swat at him playfully but you’re beaming now, lips curved into the softest smile. “And after Greece?”

He shrugs. “We come back home. Start a life. Something slow and peaceful.”

You take a deep breath and nod, trying to keep your voice steady. “I know it’s only been a month and so much has happened but…it feels right. Like—like I’d be lying if I said you aren't my forever.”

Heeseung doesn’t say anything at first. He just leans in and kisses you, soft and firm, like he knows exactly what you mean. When you pull back slightly, your voice dips into something more serious. “Would you want kids?”

Heeseung stills, gaze flickering down. “I…I don’t know.”

You twist a little, enough to look at him properly. “You don’t have to say yes, I was just curious.”

“No, it’s not that,” he murmurs. “It’s not that I don’t want them. It’s that I’m scared I’ll mess them up.” The confession is quiet but it cuts deep. Heeseung leans back on his elbows, gazing at the sky like he’s trying to find the right words in the clouds. “I think about it sometimes, what kind of dad I’d be and…I don’t know if I’d be a good one. What if I push them too hard?” He admits.

Your heart aches at the mention, at the way he says it like it’s inevitable; like it’s in his blood. You shift closer, your hand resting over his chest where his heart beats steady and strong. “You would make an amazing dad, Heeseung.”

Heeseung stares at you for a long second, eyes soft but unsure. “You really think so?”

You nod without hesitation. “Yeah. I do.”

He exhales, rubbing a hand down his face like he’s trying to scrub away a thought. “I want to believe that. That I’d be a good dad…but sometimes I think about what happened with Heejoon and I just…” He trails off, his gaze dropping to the grass. “It scares the shit out of me.” You shift a little so you’re facing him more fully, your hand finding his again.

“I keep thinking, what if I push too hard? What if I don’t see it in time? What if I miss the signs like I did with Heejoon? I was right there and I didn’t see it until it was almost too late. I can’t go through that again. I can’t survive losing someone I love like that. Especially not a child.” He says, voice quieter now. Your heart clenches. 

“I know I’m not my dad,” Heeseung continues, “but sometimes I catch myself thinking like him. That if something isn’t perfect, it’s not enough. That being soft makes you weak. I’ve spent so long trying to unlearn that but what if I don’t unlearn it fast enough?” His eyes flicker up to meet yours. “What if they inherit all the worst parts of me? What if they end up just like Heejoon? The world isn’t kind.”

You move closer, cupping his cheek gently. “Then you love them harder.” He blinks and you continue. “You love them through it. You talk to them, you check in, you show them it’s okay to be scared and sad and not perfect. You teach them what love looks like by giving it freely. You didn’t get that growing up but that’s exactly why you’ll give it tenfold.”

Heeseung looks down again, his jaw clenching like he’s holding something back. “What if that’s not enough?”

“Then I’ll be there too,” you say quietly and he looks at you like the ground just shifted beneath him. “You won’t be doing it alone, Heeseung. If we ever have kids, they’ll grow up with two people who love them more than anything. You’ll make mistakes, sure but you’ll never stop showing up. That’s what matters.”

He leans in, forehead resting against yours. “I want that,” he whispers. “A real family. One that doesn’t hurt each other. One where no one ends up feeling like they don’t belong.”

You nod, brushing your thumb along his jaw. “Then we’ll build it. From the ground up.” He kisses you, slow and reverent, like the kind of promise that doesn’t need to be spoken and for a moment you can almost see it—little feet on picnic blankets, laughter echoing through a spacious backyard, two people healing the generations after them just by learning how to love each other well.

THURSDAY MARCH 6th, 2025

You stand in front of your full-length mirror, the soft fabric of the dress Heeseung sent you brushing against your skin as you smooth it down your sides. It’s elegant but understated; it’s a silky midnight blue cinched just enough at the waist to be flattering and not slutty. You’re grateful he sent it over, you’re not sure you have something as pretty in your closet.

Your hair’s done, your makeup minimal but clean. You look…presentable, maybe even confident if you didn’t feel so hollow. The apartment is still quieter than it used to be. Things with Chisa haven’t improved. You’d hoped, stupidly, that after a week she might soften. That she might poke her head into your room and ask how you’re holding up. That maybe she’d miss you the same way you’ve been missing her but your doors stay closed. Your rooms stay separate. The silence between you stays cold.

When you’re not with Heeseung, you’re holed up in your bedroom working remotely and when Chisa knows you’re home, she finds reasons not to be. She stays out late with Yunho and Jaehyun, tagging them in stories you stopped clicking on. Jaehyun still checks in, sends you texts, funny reels, updates about the office. You know he’s trying to make sure you don’t spiral but it’s not the same. You’re the odd one out now and you’re starting to wonder if this is just how things are going to be from now on.

You sigh, adjusting your necklace as you head toward the kitchen for some water before leaving. Your heels click softly against the floor as you round the corner only to see Chisa already standing there, fridge open, pouring herself a glass of juice. You pause, so does she. She glances at you then shuts the fridge. You half expect her to brush past you without a word like always but instead she sets her glass in the sink and says quietly, almost like she regrets the question before it even leaves her mouth, “Going on another date with Heeseung?”

You grip the rim of your glass a little tighter. This is the first thing she’s said to you that wasn’t ice-cold or cutting in weeks. “He’s taking me to meet his parents.”

Chisa leans back against the counter across from you and lets out a bitter scoff. “Can’t believe you’re still with him.”

You swallow. “Chisa, I don’t want to fight.”

“Well, until you break up with him, I don’t think I have anything else to say to you.” She coldly says. The words aren’t new but hearing them now, after thinking maybe just maybe she might finally be ready to talk, they cut deeper. As she moves to leave, you reach out and gently catch her arm. “Please?” your voice breaks. “I miss you.”

It’s pathetic. You know that. After everything, after what she said, after how she’s treated you since the night everything blew up…you should want space. You should want distance but she’s your best friend. She was your home before Heeseung ever walked into your life. You miss her yelling about deadlines, stealing bites of your food, throwing herself onto your bed uninvited just because she wanted to be near you. You miss the version of her that didn’t look at you like you were a stranger.

Chisa doesn’t pull away but she doesn’t look at you either. “I miss you too,” she says softly, and it’s almost enough to bring you to tears. “But I can’t be supportive of this. Of you with him.”

You close your eyes. “I know you’re upset but I didn’t mean to hurt you—”

“Have you even talked to Sakura?” she interrupts.

You hesitate.“Not yet but I will—”

She shakes her head, stepping back. “You don’t even have the guts to talk to her after stealing her fiancé. If you really wanted to make amends, that would’ve been the first thing you did but instead…here you are. All dressed up ready to go play house with his parents.”

“It’s not like that,” you murmur, even if a part of you wonders if maybe it is. You are all dressed up, you are going to meet his parents and Sakura’s probably sat alone in her home reading article after article detailing your relationship with heeseung.

Chisa lets out a humorless laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Chisa, come on—”

“No,” she snaps. “I’m not going to sit here and clap for you while you run off to dinner with the guy who blew up your whole life.” You stare at her silently, there’s nothing you can say that’ll make her view your situation differently right now. She walks away and this time you don’t stop her. You lean against the counter, blinking rapidly, trying to breathe through the guilt knotting in your chest. You don’t even realize your phone is vibrating until the buzz startles you.

5:12 pm | heeseung 🧸🩵: i’m outside  5:12 pm | heeseung🧸🩵: no rush take your time baby.

You stare at the message for a moment then pocket your phone, pick up your purse and walk out the door. Heeseung’s car is waiting just outside. The windows rolled down, his arm resting casually against the door and the moment you step out, he smiles. “Hi,” he says, voice low and fond as he rounds the car to open the door for you. In his hands is a bouquet of flowers; lavender and baby’s breath. “For you.”

Your smile is small but automatic. “Thanks,” you murmur, fingers brushing his as you take them.

Heeseung doesn’t miss the way your voice lacks its usual spark. His eyes search yours, brows drawing together. “You okay?”

You nod a little too quickly. “Mhm.” You slide into the passenger seat before he can ask anything else. He lingers at your door for a second, concern clouding his features but he doesn’t push. Instead, he closes the door gently and gets in on the driver’s side. The car ride is quiet. The radio plays but you can barely register the words. Heeseung hums along, occasionally tapping his fingers on the wheel, throwing glances your way that you pretend not to notice. You keep your gaze out the window thinking over the past week.

When he pulls into the winding driveway, you can’t help but stare. The house is massive, larger than Heeseung’s, it looks like the kind of home built to impress rather than comfort. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong now? I gave you the whole ride.” He asks, his voice low but coaxing.

You sigh, reaching up to fiddle with your earring. “It’s nothing.” He gives you an unimpressed look. Before he can respond, you lean over the console and press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’m fine,” you murmur, trying to sound more convincing than you feel. “Just nervous about tonight.” It’s not a lie. It’s just not the whole truth.

Heeseung stares at you for a second longer, his thumb brushing your cheek. He doesn’t push. “I’m gonna be right there with you, remember? It’ll be okay.” You nod, swallowing hard and get out of the car. The front door is unlocked and Heeseung lets himself in like he still lives here, the scent of citrus polish and expensive perfume thick in the air. A woman appears almost immediately, her heels echoing against the marble floors.

She’s tall, elegant, her dark hair swept back into a twist and her cheekbones sharp enough to cut. Her features are undeniably similar to Heeseung’s; especially around the eyes but where his are warm, hers are distant. “Mom” Heeseung greets, walking up to kiss her cheek.

She tilts her head towards her son before lifting a martini glass in your direction, her expression unreadable. “You must be the girlfriend.”

You smile, polite and careful. “It’s nice to meet you. You have a lovely home.”

She hums, barely a real response. She takes a final sip of her drink and hands the empty glass to a nearby maid without breaking eye contact. “Well, we shouldn’t keep your father waiting.”

She turns without waiting for your reply. You follow her down the hallway, trying to mask the way your stomach knots. You glance at Heeseung, who offers a quick squeeze to your hand.

The dining room is even grander than you expected. A long oak table, fresh-cut flowers in a glass vase, a chandelier dripping crystal above. His father is already seated but stands as you walk in. He’s broad-shouldered, his suit perfectly tailored. “There she is!” he says, stepping forward. He pulls you into a hug before you can react. “You’re even prettier than the pictures the tabloids put out.”

You murmur an embarrased thank you, stepping back. Heeseung receives a handshake, followed by a sharp pat on the back. He pulls out your chair and takes the seat beside you. His father sits again, clasping his hands in front of him. “Drive in okay?”

You nod. “Yes, Heeseung drove. I was just telling your wife, you have a lovely home.”

He smiles. “Thank you.” He claps sharply and the sound is so loud it makes you flinch. A maid appears instantly, pouring him a generous glass of wine. Heeseung’s mother sighs. “Another martini,” she says to no one in particular.

His father’s jaw tics but he doesn’t comment. He just nods toward the wine like nothing happened. You glance toward Heeseung’s mother. She’s silent, eyes faraway, swirling her drink. She hasn’t looked at either of you since sitting down. Soon dinner begins. The food is beautiful and artfully arranged but you barely touch it. His father talks the most, steering the conversation toward your education, your family, your “ambitions.” His tone is always pleasant but something about the way he phrases things makes your skin crawl.

Across the table, Heeseung is tight-lipped. He answers when prompted but never elaborates. His voice is clipped, eyes never lingering on his father longer than they have to. He doesn’t fidget or sigh but you can feel his effort to hold himself in check, to not give too much away. It hurts to see how small he makes himself here. His mother stays almost completely silent. She sips martinis like water, one after the other, her gaze trained somewhere far beyond the dining room walls. She never offers commentary, doesn’t even acknowledge the food in front of her.

You shrink as you realize this was Heeseung’s childhood. A sedated mother too afraid to face the weight of her own grief, a power-hungry father who confuses control for love and two young boys caught in the middle. Your throat tightens as you look at Heeseung again, his shoulders still stiff, his jaw just as tense. You wonder how many nights he sat at this very table as a boy, trying to shrink himself down small enough to avoid becoming another disappointment.

You wish you could go back in time. Scoop him up from this house and hold him close. Tell him he didn’t have to be anything other than who he was. That he was allowed to be loud and messy and human. You wish you could’ve done the same for Heejoon too.

By the time the end of dinner rolls around you feel you deserve a clean shot of vodka. The plates have been cleared, wine glasses mostly drained. You’re trying not to fidget, trying to keep your back straight and your smile soft. His father sets his utensils down and dabs the corner of his mouth with a linen napkin, folding it neatly and placing it to the side. He leans back slightly, eyes fixed on you. “Right,” he starts, tone light, as if he’s about to compliment the food, “well it was…lovely meeting you.”

You smile, unsure. “Thank you. It was—”

“But I don’t think you and my son should continue on.” He cuts in, not even waiting for you to finish. You blink once. Then again. Your mouth opens slightly but no sound comes out. Heeseung’s chair scrapes loudly against the hardwood as he straightens, head whipping toward his father. “What?”

His father folds his fingers, calm as ever. “Let’s be honest, Heeseung. You could be with anyone and this…” His eyes flick to you. “Is a poor match.”

Heeseung’s jaw clenches. “Dad—”

“You didn’t go to an Ivy. You weren’t raised in our circles. Your mother works a nine-to-five,” he continues, ticking things off like an inventory list. “Your sister, at least, has some standing but even then being a Formula 1 commentator is hardly…traditional prestige.”

You blink, so that’s what the inquiries were about. To throw it back into your face to prove you’re nothing compared to his son. “And you,” he adds, his gaze back on you. “You work at a matchmaking firm—oh sorry, correction, used to. Until you ruined it trying to sleep your way to the top.”

“Stop,” Heeseung growls, voice low and warning.

His father doesn’t so much as blink. “What do you think this is? A Cinderella story? You think you’re in love? That love makes you an equal?”

“Father—”

“I’m not finished.” His tone never raises but the condescension is suffocating. “Let’s not ignore the obvious, Heeseung. She’s just like her father. A man who dragged his family’s name through the dirt.”

That lands like a punch. Your breath catches, across the table Heeseung’s mother finally looks up. She doesn’t say anything. Just sips what’s left of her martini and returns to staring at the wall. Heeseung is on his feet now. His fists slam onto the table so hard the wine glasses tremble and one nearly tips. “I said enough!”

His father remains seated, eyes cold and unfazed. “You’ve already dragged this family through enough scandal. Now you want to add another?”

“I don’t care about the family image,” Heeseung seethes, chest heaving.

His father’s jaw tightens. “You think I’ll watch you destroy everything I’ve built? For what? Some girl who has a ruined career and daddy issues?”

“That girl is the only person who’s ever loved me without conditions,” Heeseung growls, he extends his hand to you. “Let’s go.” You hesitate, heart pounding but you slip your hand into his.

His father scoffs as Heeseung helps you to your feet. “She’s cost you your name, your dignity—”

“She’s given me everything that actually matters. I’m not asking for permission. I’m telling you to get over it and accept us.” Heeseung says as he tugs you out of your seat. He doesn’t wait for a reply. Just pulls you out of the dining room, his pace fast and furious, his hand like iron around yours.

You barely make it to the foyer when a soft voice breaks through the static in your ears. “Heeseung…please.” You both freeze.

Your grip on his hand slackens. Slowly, you turn to find his mother standing just behind you both, her martini glass still in hand, the other trembling at her side. “I don’t want to lose you too.” Her voice cracks. You think it might calm him, pull him back from the edge, soften the anger hardening his features but his mothers words only seem to set him ablaze.

He reels around to face her fully, a bitter laugh leaving his throat. “You already did.” She flinches. “You lost me the second you decided to dull me down with pills instead of being a parent,” he spits, the words shaking from the force behind them.

“I was scared, I—I didn’t know what else to do.” She whispers, stepping closer.

“Don’t. Don’t stand there and cry now. Don’t act like you care.” He snaps.

“I do care!” she chokes, finally breaking. “I was trying to keep you safe. I—I didn’t want what happened to—” But she can’t finish the sentence. She can’t say his name.

Heeseung drops your hand. His arms fall limp at his side. “Eight years,” Heeseung breathes, stepping forward. “Eight years and you still can’t say his name.” You don’t recognize his voice anymore. It’s hollow and quiet, like something inside him cracked too wide to close. “You haven’t seen him once. Haven’t called, haven’t sent a card. You skipped every single birthday, every New Year, every Christmas, you erased him.”

His mother tries to step forward but the martini glass slips from her hand. It shatters against the floor, the sound sharp and jarring but she barely notices. Her arms wrap around herself like she’s trying to hold herself together by force.

“I failed him,” she whispers. “I failed Heejoon.” Her voice goes ragged as she slips out his name, like she had to tear it from her throat. “How was I supposed to look him in the eyes knowing that I didn’t do my part in keeping him safe?” She presses a trembling hand to her chest, tears streaking silently down her cheeks. “You don’t know the hell I’ve lived in since that night. The guilt— it never left.”

Heeseung is unmoved. He wipes his face roughly with the back of his hand, breath hitching. “You talk about hell like I haven’t been there. Like I haven’t woken up every single day praying I’d forget what I saw. What he looked like hanging from the tub. How cold his hands were when I found him.” You press a hand to your stomach to steady yourself. His pain is so thick in the air, you can feel it in your own lungs. “You love your kids. That’s what you do. You don’t medicate them into silence and you don’t check out and drink your way through motherhood because your golden child didn’t turn out perfect.”

She sinks to her knees, gasping through her sobs. “I was trying to save you. I couldn’t lose you too, Heeseung. I—I needed to make sure you’d survive.”

“I wasn’t surviving!” he shouts. “You turned me into a zombie! I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t sleep. Hell, I couldn't even remember my own name some days! Do you have any idea what it feels like to walk through life completely numb because your own mother would rather drug you up than look you in the eye and admit she’s scared?”

You stay still. You want to step forward, to touch his hand, to ground him somehow but this isn’t yours to mend. This moment belongs to him. His mother sobs into her hands, her entire body trembling. “I just wanted to protect you, I didn’t want to take any chances. I didn’t know what else to do.” She pleads.

“You should’ve tried! You should’ve shown up. You should’ve been there when I needed someone!” Then, his voice lowers. Not soft, just exhausted. “You weren’t there so you don’t get to ask me to stay now.”

She lets out a weak, strangled sound and curls in on herself, as if his words alone have finally broken her spine. He turns to you then, eyes bloodshot, jaw set. He doesn’t say anything, just takes your hand. “Let’s go,” he mutters. You nod, legs stiff as he leads you toward the front door. Neither of you look back but just before the door closes behind you, you hear it; the sound of his mother’s wail. A cry filled with too many years of regret.

Outside, the cold air brushes against your face. You glance at Heeseung, who’s still tense, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You reach for his keys gently. “Let me drive.” He hesitates for a moment before handing them over without a word. The drive back is quiet. The GPS hums directions, your hands steady on the wheel. He stares out the window, his reflection blurred by the city lights. You want to say something but nothing feels right. So you settle on the one truth you can give him. “I’m sorry.”

His response is a shrug. “It’s not your fault.” You don’t push. You just nod, biting the inside of your cheek and let the silence continue.

When you pull into the driveway, the porch light is already on. You park, kill the engine and the two of you step out, your shoes quiet against the pavement. You continue giving him space, you’re waiting for when he’s ready but as you near the steps you freeze, someone is standing there. You peek from behind Heeseung to find Sakura. She’s bundled in a soft coat, hands tucked into the sleeves, her breath visible in the cold and in her arms, clutched tightly to her chest, is the same scarf she began crocheting in your office a week ago. The gray one, the one she started while telling you she believed Heeseung could be a good husband.

Her eyes flick between the two of you. She lets out a humorless almost breathless laugh. “Of course,” she says, like something inside her finally clicked into place.

“Sakura—” you start, taking a hesitant step forward but her expression stops you cold.

“I don’t want to hear it. I trusted you. I let myself believe you were safe.” Her voice isn’t raised but it slices clean through you. Heeseung instinctively steps in front of you, his arm curling around your waist as if shielding you might soften the blow. It only makes things worse. She sees it, the way his body is angled toward you, his fingers resting where they never did with her and you see the flicker of pain pass through her eyes before she bites it down.

Her voice trembles, thick with betrayal. “I told you everything. Everything. I let myself believe you were different from the vultures around me but you’re just as selfish.”

You reach for her helplessly but she steps back like your touch would burn her. “Don’t touch me. You don’t get to play the victim in this.”

“I never meant to hurt you,” you whisper, throat tight.

Sakura’s laugh is bitter. “You didn’t think about me at all.” You don’t try to argue because maybe she’s right. Maybe you didn't think about her the way you should have.

“What are you doing here?” Heeseung asks, voice low.

Sakura holds her ground. “I came to apologize,” she says, and then glances at you, something close to betrayal flashing across her face. “To you, Heeseung. I was cruel at the café. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I was angry and embarrassed. You didn’t deserve that.”

Heeseung nods at her and quietly says thank you. You swallow, your voice cracking as you say, “It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt.”

She laughs bitterly. “But I did get hurt, didn’t I?”

You nod, unable to argue. “I’m sorry. Truly. I—I know that doesn’t fix anything but I am.”

Sakura stares at you, her grip tightening on the scarf. “Is that why you asked me that day if I really meant it? When I said I’d be okay if he chose someone else?”

You cringe but don’t deny it. “Yes.”

Sakura shakes her head, eyes glossing over. “You’re trash. A terrible friend and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you for this.”

She then turns to him, voice trembling. “I really did care about you. I thought…I thought maybe we could be something great.”

She pushes the scarf into his chest, harder than necessary. “I finished it. I don’t even know why. I guess I didn’t want to leave things ugly. I don’t hate you. I don’t hate either of you but I don’t think I ever want to see you again, either.” Then she turns and walks down the steps.

You don’t cry right away. You just stand there. Heeseung’s hand is still on your waist. He turns to you slowly, eyes darker than before. “Are you okay?”

You shake your head. The tears come fast now: hot and  guilty. “I should be asking you that. After everything with your parents, after everything you said, I should be the one comforting you.” You whisper defeated.

“Hey,” Heeseung murmurs, wrapping you gently in his arms. “You don’t have to do that. You’re allowed to be upset too.”

You hiccup and cry harder. “Every single day that passes,” you whisper into his chest, “the less I believe things will ever be okay.”

Heeseung doesn’t offer you an answer, he doesn’t try to convince you otherwise. He doesn’t feed you empty promises. He just kisses your forehead and says, “I don’t know what comes next but I’m not going anywhere. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

You cry harder and he just holds you. It’s not a perfect fix but tonight it’s the only comfort either of you has left.

SATURDAY MARCH 8TH, 2025

You’re curled up beneath a fleece-lined blanket with your knees tucked under your chin, the hum of the jet engine buzzing in the background. Ten minutes out from Jeju. You glance out the window at the clouds streaking past, the island isn’t even visible yet, just pale blue and gray stretching forever. Heeseung’s seated across from you, laptop open on the table but his eyes aren’t on the screen. He’s watching you, he’s been doing that a lot lately, almost like he’s afraid to say the wrong thing and send you spiraling. You haven’t been back to your place since the night of the dinner. Two days of hiding out in Heeseung’s home, too humiliated to show your face in public and too drained to face the silence waiting behind Chisa’s door.

Heeseung has been patient, gentle even when you’ve been distant. When the headlines called you a homewrecker, when the gossip accounts posted side-by-side photos of you and Sakura with question marks in the captions. He didn’t push, instead he brought you tea without asking, rubbed your back when you couldn’t sleep and pulled you into his chest when you cried so hard your whole body shook. Last night, tangled in his sheets, your skin still warm against his, he traced circles against your spine and said maybe it was time to get away. “Just for a little while,” he’d murmured. “The city’s too loud right now. Jeju will be quiet.”

You knew it was double ended, yes a getaway but also the opportunity to meet the most important person to him. The villa isn’t far from the facility. That’s the plan; land, settle in, eat something if your nerves allow it, then go see him. You shift slightly in your seat, tugging the blanket higher. Your fingers twist into the edge of it without meaning to. Heeseung finally speaks, voice soft, breaking the lull. “You cold?”

You shake your head, managing the faintest smile. “Just nervous.”

He closes the laptop, stands and walks the few steps over and crouches beside you, one hand resting on your knee. “We don’t have to go today, if it’s too much, we can wait.” He says quietly.

“No,” you say, a little too fast. “I want to go. I want to meet him.”

He searches your face, as if trying to make sure you mean it. You do, you really do. “Okay,” he murmurs. He squeezes your knee gently then leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “We’ll take it slow.” You nod.

The jet dips slightly. Outside, the clouds begin to part and in the distance the edges of the island come into view. You take a deep breath and Heeseung reaches for your hand, you let him hold it.

The landing is smooth, you barely even register it just the soft dip in altitude and the shifting pressure in your ears as the wheels meet the tarmac. A car is already waiting on the runway, sleek and black and humming gently beneath the overhang.

Heeseung helps you down the stairs, your blanket draped over one arm, his hand steady on your lower back. The drive up to the villa is quiet. He brings in the bags himself while you trail behind slowly, taking in the space. The villa is modern but warm. High ceilings, linen curtains fluttering in the breeze, a small patio that opens to a private stretch of coastline. The ocean is close enough you can hear it, waves brushing against rocks in slow, rhythmic hushes.

“Food’ll be here in twenty,” Heeseung says after he sets down the last of the bags. You nod from where you’re perched on the edge of the bed, watching the way his hair sticks to his forehead from the humidity. When the food arrives, he doesn’t press you to eat, just uncovers the containers and slides a bowl in front of you. “Only if you’re hungry,” he murmurs, sitting down beside you with a quiet clink of chopsticks. His knee touches yours and somehow that alone makes it easier to take a few bites. After, he laces his fingers with yours and says, “Come on, let’s go on a walk.” You don’t ask him where, you just follow.

The path behind the villa winds up a small hill, a trail dusted with gravel and pine needles. The air smells faintly of salt and citrus. You walk in silence, Heeseung’s hand never leaving yours. Eventually, you reach a narrow overlook. The sea stretches endlessly below you, the water a dull silver-blue beneath the thick gray sky. Heeseung moves behind you and wraps his arms gently around your waist, his chest flush against your back. His head comes to rest lightly atop yours and you close your eyes at the weight of it. “Are you ready to talk?” he asks softly. You’re quiet for a long moment, eyes fixed on the horizon then you nod.

“I’m scared you’ll wake up one day and decide this isn’t worth it. That I’m not.”

Heeseung doesn’t move, doesn’t speak yet. Just listens, arms tightening around you. “I’m scared I won’t get my job back…that the firm is done with me. I’m scared that Chisa was right— not about you but maybe she was right about me, that I messed up my whole life.”

Heeseung’s hands are warm against your stomach, his thumbs rubbing slow circles into the fabric of your shirt. “You didn’t ruin anything. You hit a wall, that’s all. A stumble isn’t the end of the road, baby. Miss Min knows that. You’re one of the best therapists in that office and she knows that too.”

You shake your head, tears gathering before you can stop them. “What if they don’t take me back?”

“They will,” he says simply. “But even if they don’t—you will land on your feet. You’re too good not to.” He hesitates, just for a second then he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “Chisa was hurt and she reacted like she was hurting. That doesn’t make you a bad person.”

You close your eyes and let his words sink in. You reach up to brush at your cheeks, trying to swipe away the tears before they fall but he catches your hand mid-air and kisses your knuckles instead. “Hey,” he murmurs. “You’re doing so much better than you think.”

You turn in his arms, facing him, your hands coming up to rest on his chest. “Thank you,” you whisper and lean in to kiss him. He kisses you back instantly, with the same kind of tenderness he’s shown you in every moment since that day. The words sit heavy on your tongue. I love you. They press against the back of your teeth, threatening to slip but you don’t say them. Not yet. Instead, you let the kiss convey the words you can’t say just yet.

When you pull away, he searches your face, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “We should head back, Heejoon’s waiting.” You nod, threading your fingers through his again as you both walk back down the hill. When you make it back to the villa, the air is warmer than it was up on the hill. You and Heeseung step inside hand in hand and he presses a kiss to your temple before tugging you gently toward the bathroom.

“Let’s wash up a bit. It’s not far from here but I want to look decent. Heejoon gives me shit when I show up in sweats.” He says. You smile faintly at that, the first real one since the plane landed. You freshen up in the en suite, splashing cool water on your face and pressing a towel to your cheeks until the residual flush of crying fades. You change into something simple: a soft cardigan over a sundress with a pair of white sneakers.

Heeseung emerges from the bedroom a few minutes later, dressed neatly in a black sweater and slacks, his hair a little damp from his shower. He carries a small gift bag in one hand and gently sets it on the entryway table. “Is this yours?”

You nod. “I remembered you said you and Heejoon used to fight over the orion chocolate pies when you were kids. I found some at a market in Seoul before we flew out.”

He blinks, visibly taken aback for a moment. “You remembered that?”

“Of course,” you say, trying to smile. “You were so happy when you talked about it. Said he used to hoard the boxes and hide them in the piano bench.”

He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. “He once tried to bribe me with one just so I wouldn’t tell mom he broke the toaster.”

There’s fondness in his voice that makes you smile. “Ready?” he asks. You nod, grabbing the small gift bag and tucking it carefully into your tote. The drive to the facility is fairly short. Heeseung drums his fingers against the steering wheel occasionally but says little. You reach over and place a hand on his knee and he covers it with his own without looking, thumb tracing idle circles. The facility is nestled between stretches of forest and coast. It’s private and minimalistic with large windows and quiet walkways, designed to feel less like a hospital and more like a home. A nurse greets you at the front. “He’s in the garden,” she says with a kind smile. “He’s been waiting.”

You follow the winding path past a koi pond and rows of lavender. There’s a man seated near the edge of the garden, back straight, eyes trained on a book resting in his lap. His hair is dark like Heeseung’s but thinner and he wears a pale gray cardigan buttoned all the way up. His right hand twitches slightly where it rests on the page.

Heeseung slows as you approach, he stops a few paces away. “Hyung,” he says gently.

He looks up, Heejoon’s face is smaller than Heeseung’s, older somehow even though they’re only two years apart. There’s a soft flicker in his eyes when he sees his brother, something between recognition and relief. His lips part but the words take a moment longer to come. “Seungie,” he says at last, voice hoarse and uneven. Slurred at the edges. “You…came.”

“Of course I did,” Heeseung says, stepping closer, crouching to eye level. “I missed you.”

Heejoon attempts a smile, it’s lopsided. His fingers tremble as he reaches for the water bottle on the side table but can’t quite grasp it properly. You move to help but Heeseung beats you to it. He lifts the bottle, unscrews the cap and helps his brother bring the straw to his lips with practiced ease. “Slowly,” he murmurs.

Heejoon nods slightly and sips. His eyes shift to you and linger, uncertain. “Is…this her?”

Heeseung looks up at you and then back to his brother. “Yeah. This is her.”

You step forward, trying not to show how nervous you are. “Hi, Heejoon,” you say, keeping your voice steady. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

He blinks then offers a nod, slow and deliberate. “Pretty,” he mumbles.

You laugh, surprised and Heeseung rolls his eyes. “Don’t flirt with her,” he mutters but there’s no bite in his tone. Just affection.

Then as if remembering, you reach into your bag and pull out the small gift you brought with you. “I got you something,” you say, setting it on the table in front of him.

Heejoon blinks, surprised. “F-for me?”

You nod. “Heeseung mentioned once that you used to love these growing up.”

He eyes the bag for a moment before reaching out. It takes effort, his hand trembles, fingers slow to grasp the handles but you and Heeseung wait. With care, he works through the tissue paper and when he finally sees what’s inside, his entire face changes. His eyes light up, lips curling into a genuine smile as he lifts the red box in his hands. “No way,” he murmurs, voice hoarse but amused. “You brought c-choco pies?”

“I know they’re a bit hard to find out here.” you say, watching his reaction carefully.

He chuckles, a small breathy sound. “Ha-haven’t had one since I got here.” Still smiling, Heejoon glances at you, “Thank you. Really, t-thank you.”

You shake your head, “it’s nothing.”

He shifts slightly in his seat then his gaze flickers over to the newspaper peeking from beneath a stack of crossword books. His lips twitch. “Saw the papers.” Your shoulders tense.

He lifts the choco pie box with both hands to place on the table, shaking only slightly. “It…was s-something.” You glance at Heeseung worried but he only gives a small shake of his head. Heejoon turns to look at you again, mischief twinkling behind the weariness in his eyes. “Good job,” he says, voice soft but clear.

You blink. “What?”

Heejoon’s smile pulls a little wider, the corners of his mouth trembling with effort. He tips his head toward the paper again. “Dad must’ve…lost it.”

Heeseung scoffs, leaning back in his chair. “You have no idea.” That earns a chuckle from Heejoon albeit thin and scratchy but amused nonetheless. He shifts again then with slow, deliberate movement and raises his hand. His fingers curl as he aims toward the sky, shaky but determined. “D-deserves it,” he mutters, flipping the sky off. You clap a hand over your mouth to stifle your laugh.

Heeseung’s eyes widen in horror. “Hyung! stop!” He grabs his brother’s wrist, forcing his hand gently back down. “You can’t do that here!”

Heejoon wheezes out a laugh, eyes crinkling. “Can’t stop me,” he rasps, pleased with himself.

You’re still giggling but Heeseung looks dismayed. Heejoon leans back with a faint sigh, “Still…happy for you.”

Heeseung blinks. “What?”

“I’m glad,” Heejoon says slowly. “That you were s-selfish. Sorry for the other girl but…” He shrugs, the motion loose. “You never shut up. About h-her.”

You blink, startled. “Really?”

He nods. “Every visit. ____ this, ____ that.” He shifts his voice ever so slightly, mimicking his brother in a half-slurred impression, “She listens to me. She’s smart. So pretty. Single.” You laugh stunned while Heeseung groans and buries his face in his hands.

“Oh my gosh please stop.”

Heejoon doesn’t. “One time…he spent t-two hours talking a-about some dinner he took you on. Wouldn't shut up.”

Your mouth drops open in disbelief. “He did not.”

“He did,” Heejoon wheezes out a laugh again, clearly enjoying himself. “Said you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen.”

“I hate everything,” Heeseung mutters, red from the ears down. The three of you fall into easy laughter after that, the tension thinning. You talk for a while, mostly about nothing; movies, music, food. Heeseung teases Heejoon about his terrible taste in video games, Heejoon retorts that at least he has taste and you sit there quietly marveling at the bond between them. Heeseung’s phone buzzes. He glances down at the screen and frowns. “Work?” Heejoon asks.

Heeseung nods reluctantly. “I’ll just be a minute. Don’t say anything weird while I’m gone.” He presses a kiss to your head on the way out. You turn back to Heejoon to find him already staring at you.

“He hasn’t…been this happy in years,” he says, his expression soft. You sit a little straighter, heart thudding. “He’s carried more t-than anyone should. Our parents, the media…even me.”

Heejoon’s voice falters slightly as he lowers his gaze to his hands, now resting lightly on the edge of his lap. “After the…after my attempt,” he says slowly, “he never left my side…n-not…once. He brushed my teeth when I couldn’t move my arms…fed me a-and washed my hair. He was just a te-teenager but he did it all. Sat in that ICU room day and night like it was his j-job, he slept in the chair next to my bed and would pretend to be asleep…s-so I wouldn’t feel guilty. Our parents barely lasted the first w-week.”

Your throat tightens. Heeseung had never told you any of this.

“There were days he couldn’t even keep his eyes o-open,” Heejoon continues, his voice scratchy. “He was so doped up on those antidepressants they put him on…the two of us would just sit there in s-silence. Me, trying to remember how to s-speak. Him, barely able to l-l-li-ift his head.” You feel your eyes sting and quickly look down at your hands, clutched tight in your lap.

“I was relieved when he said he got into university…abroad,” Heejoon says after a moment. “He needed distance from all this…from them, f-from me. I missed him like hell but he needed to go and when he came back for breaks…he wasn’t drugged up anymore. It felt like I had my baby brother b-back.”

He pauses, glancing toward the walkway where Heeseung had disappeared down for his phone call then he scoffs, a bitter sound. “And then K-karina happened and the articles. All those tabloids, ripping into him…p-painting him like he was some v-villain just to drag our father’s name through the mud. They called him a player, a liar, a d-disgrace to the company.” His jaw clenches. “They didn’t even k-know him.”

Heejoon looks over at you again, his eyes a little glassy, the tremor in his voice returning. “Does he t-talk to you about it? The press?”

You hesitate before shaking your head. “Not really. He says it doesn’t bother him.”

Heejoon exhales hard through his nose. “Liar,” he mutters. “He used to cry about it. Not loudly. Just…at night. When he thought I was asleep. I’d hear him trying to be quiet, cu-curling into himself like if he stayed s-small enough, the world would forget about him.”

You feel as if you could vomit from the words coming out of Heejoon’s mouth. The image of a young Heeseung curled up trying to muffle his sobs so no one would hear shatters you. How could someone like him, someone so full of warmth be reduced to that? The world failed him. Not once but over and over. It failed him when it made him the scapegoat for his father’s sins, when it decided scandal looked better on paper than truth. When it branded him a villain just to sell headlines. You did the right thing pulling the plug on Chisa’s article, there’s no doubt in your mind now because that exposé? It wasn’t some righteous piece of journalism. It wasn’t about accountability, it was a smear campaign plain and simple.

If you could go back and do things differently, choose her article over his name, her career over his peace—you wouldn’t. Not in a million years. You’d pick him in every timeline, in every universe, in every what-if.

“I know I don’t have the right to ask this…I’ve hurt him too. I know t-that but can you stay by his side? Keep making him happy? It’s s-selfish but…he deserves that…s-someone who makes him feel s-safe?”

You don’t answer at first. Your throat’s too tight. You reach for the armrest beside you, steadying yourself then nod. “I will.”

Heejoon smiles softly. “Good.” His fingers tap the side of his book once. “Then he’ll be okay.”

Heeseung returns a few minutes later, the door creaking softly behind him as he steps back into the garden. He glances between the two of you, brows raised. “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing,” Heejoon says deadpan but there’s a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. “We w-were just talking about you behind your b-back.”

You snort. Heeseung narrows his eyes and walks over, dropping into the seat beside you with a dramatic sigh. “See? Can’t leave you two alone for five minutes.”

You only lean into his side, letting your arm loop through his, your cheek pressed to the warmth of his shoulder. “I missed you.”

Heeseung’s hand finds your thigh under the table, thumb brushing slow circles over your knee. “I missed you too,” he murmurs, kissing the top of your head.

The mood lightens after that. Heeseung props his feet up on the chair across from him. Heejoon cracks another joke about Heeseung’s awful middle school haircut and you laugh so hard you nearly spill your tea. You stay pressed into Heeseung’s side, fingers grasping his tightly like you’re afraid someone might reach through the trees and take him from you. You meant it when you told Yunho you’d be the one to show Heeseung unconditional love but now you mean it even more.

MONDAY MARCH 10TH, 2025

You spent all weekend on the edge of the sea.

Jeju had been warmer than Seoul, not by much but enough that you could walk the beach barefoot. Heeseung had chased Heejoon across the tide line while you hung back watching the two of them. You’d eaten grilled mackerel in a tiny restaurant by the shore, ducked into a tea shop where the old woman gave you too many free samples, browsed the night market and filled your pockets with small candies and things you didn’t need.

Your favorite part of the trip though was the comic store. You’d stumbled into it by accident, a little place tucked between a pottery shop and a cat café. The three of you had stayed for hours. Reading and lounging. Heeseung had sat beside you on the floor with his back against the bookshelf, one arm slung lazily over your shoulders while Heejoon curled into a bean bag, completely absorbed in some brightly colored comic. There was something so unremarkably special about it, your little pocket of peace. It was one of the best weekends you’ve had in a long, long time.

Now it’s Monday and you’re back home or close enough to it lounging on Heeseung’s couch, half under the blanket, your legs sprawled over his as he flips through something on his phone. He sets the phone down eventually and shifts until you’re tucked fully against his chest, your head rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breathing.

“Move in with me,” he says, so easily you almost don’t catch it.

You blink, lifting your head. “What?”

He smiles at you playing with the hem of your top. “I said move in.”

You blink again, trying to gauge if he’s joking but he looks completely serious. “Are you…being for real right now?”

Heeseung just nods, brushing a thumb across your cheekbone. “You’re here all the time anyway. Your lease is up soon, you and Chisa aren’t exactly best friends at the moment…” His voice dips just slightly, eyes searching yours. “I want you here. With me.”

You stare at him, a thousand thoughts rushing in at once and then he says, almost sheepish, “Isn’t that what people who are in love do?”

Your breath catches. “L-love?”

He nods again, slower this time. “I’m in love with you.”

Your breath catches and before you can stop it, tears are prickling at your eyes. Heeseung shifts, cupping your cheek like he’s afraid you’ll look away. “Hey,” he whispers, brushing a thumb under your eye. “That’s not a bad thing.”

You let out a watery laugh. “It’s not,” you whisper back. “It’s just…I love you too.”

His breath hitches, just the slightest intake but you feel it in the way his arms tighten around you, in the way his lips part like your words knocked the air out of him. “You do?” he murmurs, like he can’t quite believe it.

You nod, twisting the material of his hoodie. “I didn’t want to admit it at first. I was scared.”

“I know, me too.” He whispers, eyes fluttering shut. You’re quiet for a beat, just breathing each other in. Heeseung’s thumb keeps brushing slow circles along your cheek, like he can’t stop touching you.

Then he says it again, just a little softer this time. “Move in with me.”

You bite your bottom lip, heart full to bursting. “Okay,” you whisper. “Yes.”

His eyes fly open. “Yeah?”

You laugh, really laugh this time, nodding through the tears. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t kiss you right away. He just pulls you into his chest, burying his face in your neck, holding you like he doesn’t ever want to let go. “We’re gonna need a lot of drawer space.” You joke.

“I already cleared one,” he says proudly and you laugh again. “Figured if I ever got lucky enough, I’d want it ready.”

You pull back just enough to look at him. “You thought about this?”

Heeseung smiles, playing with the collar of your shirt. “You think I spent all those nights watching you sleep in my bed and didn’t imagine you just staying?”

You shake your head, stunned by how full your heart feels, how easy he makes it all seem. Spellbound and helpless under his natural charm, you lean upward and press your lips to his. Heeseung’s eyes widen for a brief moment before they slip shut. Groaning against your lip, he reaches up to grip your chin. You allow him to lift it up as you sink into the feel of him, relishing in the feel of his lightly chapped lips against yours and the barest hint of his mint mouthwash on your mouth. Heeseung presses his lips harder to yours however just before he can poke his tongue out to deepen your kiss, you’re both interrupted by the doorbell.

You groan. “Ignore it.”

Your fingers loop into the hem of Heeseung’s hoodie, tugging him back toward you. He grins and leans in again, hand sliding up your thigh like he’s going to listen but the doorbell rings again, this time longer. You groan louder against his lips.

Heeseung laughs and brushes your nose with his. “I promise it’ll be quick,” he murmurs, giving your leg a final squeeze before pulling away. You pout but let him go, swatting his ass as he passes. He tosses you a wink over his shoulder. Once he’s out of sight, you flop back against the couch cushions, dazed and giddy. You touch your lips, still a little breathless. How did this even happen? Just two months ago Heeseung was a stranger but now…now, he’s your home. You smile to yourself, sinking deeper into the cushions, legs curled beneath you. You can picture it, the life the two of you could build together. Late nights in this very living room, tangled up in each other with tubs of ice cream balanced between your knees and corny rom-coms playing on loop.

You think about him in the kitchen, sleeves pushed up, hair a mess, cooking you ramen at two in the morning just because you said you were craving it. you’d dance behind him to old songs on the speaker, stealing kisses and noodles while he pretends to be annoyed.

You also think about the holidays, his big home feeling more lived in. Heeseung hanging string lights while you and Heejoon decorate the tree, both of you arguing over which ornaments look better. The three of you baking together, burning the cookies but eating them anyway. Hosting Thanksgiving, Christmas, ringing in the new year with the people you love most all under one roof.

Lastly you think about waking up beside him every day, about sleepy kisses and toothbrush-sharing and matching mugs. You think about coming home to him. Your heart feels so full it’s almost too much. You turn your head towards the door wondering what’s taking him so long. You stand and walk towards the door to check on him “Hee?” you call softly, pushing off the couch and padding toward the entryway but when you reach the hallway your steps falter.

Heeseung is just standing there completely still, like he’s forgotten how to move. You frown as you come up behind him. “Baby, are you okay?”

You trail off as you peek around his frame. There’s a woman standing in the doorway, maybe around your age. Her hair’s pulled into a loose bun and her eyes flicker briefly to yours before drifting back to the man in front of her. A little boy clings to her, his arms wrapped tightly around her neck, face buried in the crook of her shoulder. You’ve never seen her before but something in your gut twists. You already know.

Heeseung’s voice is quiet. Dazed. “Karina…?”

She offers a gentle smile. “Hi. Can we come in?”

He blinks, like the question pulls him out of his stupor. “Y-yeah. Of course.” He steps aside, motioning them in. Karina walks slowly, adjusting the little boy on her hip as she steps into the living room. Heeseung glances at you, eyes unreadable and you follow silently as the four of you make your way to the couch. Karina takes a seat on the loveseat across from you and Heeseung while you sit beside him, his hand settling on your knee for reassurance. You can feel the tension radiating off him.

It’s Heeseung who breaks the silence. “What are you doing here?”

Karina glances down, gently fixing the collar of the little boy’s shirt. “I saw the articles, reporters have been staked out my home waiting for a comment” she says.

Heeseung immediately launches into an apology. “Karina, I’m so sorry. I didn’t—I never wanted your name to get dragged into this. I tried to keep—”

She waves a hand, cutting him off with a small laugh. “Don’t worry about it. I know a witch hunt when I see one. I was just…collateral damage.”

You shift slightly, guilt welling in your chest. You didn’t write the article, didn’t even want it to happen but still, a part of you feels complicit. “I came down to Seoul to clear things up,” she says, eyes locking on Heeseung’s. “I want to tell the truth. About everything, what happened and what didn’t.”

Heeseung stares at her, stunned. “Karina…you don’t have to—”

“I do,” she interrupts. “It’s the least I can do, after everything you’ve done for me.”

Heeseung looks confused. “I haven’t—”

Karina smiles knowingly. “You don’t think I know it was you sending the checks?”

You blink. “Checks?”

Karina nods. “Twice a month. For almost four years now.” Your breath catches. Almost four years. She shifts in her seat, gaze dropping to her lap. “When I found out I was pregnant, his father…didn’t take it well. Called me a liar and blocked my number. I had to leave school and move back to Korea with my grandparents’ place. I didn’t have a job, no plan and barely had prenatal care. I was terrified.”

You reach for Heeseung’s hand instinctively, threading your fingers through his. He doesn’t look at you though, his eyes are on Karina. “I ran into Jake at the market,” Karina continues. “It was embarrassing. I looked a mess and it being Jake of all people? Felt cruel honestly.”

She readjusts her son, “he didn’t judge though, he asked what I needed. I said nothing and I meant it but a week later, the first check came.” Heeseung shifts beside you, shoulders tense.

“I thought it was Jake,” she says. “I called him, told him I didn’t want his pity money or handouts. He was confused. Swore it wasn’t him. That’s when I started looking closer.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a slightly creased envelope. The corner bears a subtle stamp, the name of a Seoul-based trust you vaguely recognize. “I saw this,” Karina says, handing it over. “The name, I read about it once years ago. That’s when I knew.”

You glance at Heeseung. He doesn’t deny it. Just swallows and looks down at his lap. Karina smiles, tired but warm. “I know it was you.”

He finally meets her eyes. “I knew you’d never take it if you knew it was from me. You don’t owe me anything. I just wanted to help.”

“I know,” Karina replies softly. “That’s what makes it worse. You didn’t want anything in return and I let them drag your name through the dirt.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t owe me a thing.”

She exhales slowly. “Still…I want to do what I can. You changed my life, Heeseung and my son’s.” Karina looks down at her son, turning him gently so he’s facing you and Heeseung. “This is Minhee,” she says softly.

Heeseung’s breath catches audibly. “Minhee…?” he repeats, the name cracking.

She nods. “I thought about it for a long time. It was the only name that felt right.”

She brushes his bangs aside. “Minhee-ah, this is your uncle Heeseung.”

Minhee finally peeks up, dark eyes wide and curious. He squints for a second before grinning. “Mommy talks about you a lot,” he babbles, his voice sweet and clear. “Do you really eat all your vegetables?”

Heeseung lets out a broken laugh, tears sitting in his waterline. “I do,” he says hoarsely. “And if you keep listening to your mom, you’ll grow up tall and strong too.”

Minhee pouts but nods seriously. “Okay.” You all laugh, the tension in the room slowly lifting.

Karina looks at Heeseung. “Do you want to hold him?” He swallows hard but nods.

She hands Minhee over and he settles easily into Heeseung’s arms, immediately reaching up to tug on his hair. “I want red hair too.”

Karina snorts. “Maybe in twenty years.”

You laugh. “How old is he?”

Minhee proudly holds up five fingers. “Four!”

Karina grins. “Close enough.”

There’s a moment of peace then, “I’ll be in the city for three days,” Karina says after a moment. “I have an interview with a publishing house tomorrow to tell my side. I know it’s a lot to ask but…would you mind watching Minhee for me while I go?”

Heeseung doesn’t even hesitate. “Of course.”

“Thank you,” she says, meaningfully then she stands, smoothing her dress and fixing Minhee’s sleeve. “We should probably go. I promised him ice cream.”

Minhee pouts, clinging to Heeseung. “But I want to stay with Uncle Hee.”

Heeseung chuckles. “You’ll come back tomorrow, yeah? We’ll have a playdate.”

Minhee brightens at that. “Okay!”

You walk them to the door and say your goodbyes. Karina thanks you again, nodding once before slipping out into the hallway with her son in her arms. Heeseung shuts the door gently, for a long moment, neither of you says anything. Heeseung exhales slowly. “You okay?”

You turn toward him, a little thrown. “Me?”

He gives you a look like it’s obvious. “Yeah. That was…a lot.”

You laugh but it comes out hollow. “I mean…that was your first love who just came back, not mine.”

He takes a step closer. “First love,” he repeats gently. “Not current.”

You try to hold his gaze but falter. It’s not even that you’re jealous, not really. It’s just…you didn’t expect her to be so kind, so warm. You didn’t expect her to look at Heeseung the way people look at someone they once loved, not longingly but fondly, like nothing has changed and worse, you didn’t expect Heeseung to look back with that same familiar softness in his eyes, even if it only lasted a second. “I know it’s silly,” you murmur, “but I felt so small for a minute…like I was intruding on something sacred. Like you two have this whole history and I’m just…” You trail off.

Heeseung doesn’t let you finish. He steps forward, his hands finding your waist, steadying you. “She was a part of my life,” he says carefully. “But that chapter closed a long time ago. I loved her…but it’s nothing compared to this.” His voice dips, gentler now. “What I have with you…it’s different. You are not intruding, you’re the future I didn’t even know I wanted until I met you.”

You lean into him, letting your head rest against his chest. You feel the steady beat of his heart under your cheek. “I love how deeply you care about people,” you whisper. “It’s what made me fall for you. I don’t want you to change that. I just…wasn’t ready for any of this…For her. For Minhee.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I wasn’t ready either but I’m glad she came. It felt like closure. Like something that was long overdue.”

You’re about to say something, maybe even agree, when your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out and glance at the screen. Miss Min. Your heart stutters. Heeseung notices. “What is it?”

“Miss Min,” you say, already reaching for it. “Maybe she’s calling to let me know I can come back!”

Heeseung kisses your temple. “I’ll get started on lunch. Take your time.”

You step out into the hallway, pressing the phone to your ear as you answer. “Hello?”

“Hi sweetheart,” Miss Min says and already something feels off. She never uses that tone—not with you, not with anyone. “How have you been holding up?”

You tuck yourself into the corner of the wall. “Okay, I guess. Trying to stay afloat.”

“I’ve seen the headlines,” she says softly. “It looks like it’s finally quieting down.”

You nod, even though she can’t see it. “Does that mean I can come back?”

There’s a pause. A long one then she exhales and your stomach sinks. “I fought for you,” she says and it’s so gentle, so apologetic it makes your eyes sting. “But the board has decided it’s best to terminate your position. They feel the firm’s reputation is at stake.”

The words hit like a slap. You forget how to breathe. “No—” you say, your voice cracking. “Please! You said it yourself, the noise is dying down! This isn’t fair! You know this isn’t fair.”

“I know. Believe me, I know but my hands are tied.”

“Then untie them!” you snap, louder than intended, emotion bleeding through the cracks. There’s silence. You swallow, suddenly ashamed. “I-i’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I know this isn’t your fault.”

“It’s okay,” she says gently. “You’re hurting. I understand.”

You clutch the phone tighter. “I gave everything to that place.”

“I know you did and you’re still the best junior therapist I’ve ever hired. This…this doesn’t define you.”

But it feels like it does. It feels like everything you worked for is gone in an instant. That one article, one moment of someone else’s decision, was enough to unravel your entire future. You hang up before she can say anything else. By the time you make your way back into the kitchen, Heeseung has a pot on the stove and is chopping green onions, humming softly under his breath. He looks up with a smile but it falters the second he sees your face. His expression falls. “No…”

You nod wordlessly and the tears spill without permission. Heeseung abandons the counter in a heartbeat, pulling you into his arms. You bury yourself in his chest and let it all out. He strokes your hair gently. “What did she say?”

You tell him. About the board, about the decision, about the way your name will always be linked to Chisa’s article. “No one’s going to hire me now! I’m that woman. The one who stole someone’s fiancé. That stupid article didn’t just ruin my reputation, it ruined my entire career.”

You feel his jaw tighten against your forehead. “I hate her for that,” he says, full of fury. “I hate that Chisa got to play martyr while tearing down everything you built.”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter. Damage is done.”

“No,” Heeseung says firmly, pulling back to look you in the eyes. “It’s not done. We’ll start over.”

You stare at him. “What?”

“Start your own firm. We’ll find a space, I’ll help with funding. We’ll build something from the ground up.”

“I—I can’t.” You laugh bitterly. “No one will trust me. Why would they? I’m a scandal now. A walking headline.”

Heeseung cups your face, voice low but resolute. “Stop doing that. You’re more than what Chisa put out there. You are a brilliant, compassionate woman who’s helped dozens of people and will help hundreds more.”

You look away. “I don’t believe that.”

“Then let me believe in you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, “until you can believe in yourself.”

You close your eyes, trying not to break but the tears come anyway and Heeseung holds you like he’s never letting go. You sigh against his chest unable to fathom how today has played out, from Heeseung telling you he loves you to his first love appearing then you losing your job all within the hour. Your hands shake as you slowly trail them down his chest and towards his belt.

Heeseung's hands cover yours, stopping you. “No ____, not like this."

"Please, Hee," you whisper, your voice cracking. "I need to focus on something other than what's going on. I need you." Heeseung's resistance falters a bit as he looks down into your eyes. He pulls your chin up towards him and kisses you, it starts gently but quickly becomes urgent. You cling to him as his hands move to lift your hoodie and you remove his before guiding him to the kitchen counter. You reach for his belt again and this time he doesn't stop you. "Are you sure?" he murmurs against your lips, his breath warm and reassuring.

You nod, your fingers deftly undoing the buckle. "I'm sure.”

Heeseung lets out a pained moan as you begin palming him through his sweats. You can almost feel everything through his boxers. He’s still a little soft but despite that, he feels huge under your palm.

“Ah,” Heeseung gasps then, as one of your fingers runs along the length of his shaft through his clothing, he hisses. He grows under your touch, sweats just barely tenting as you continue to palm him through the material of his clothing.

“Fuck…princess, breathes out, his face scrunched up in pleasure. You stare up at him, eyes scanning across his features as your hand slowly goes past the barrier and into his briefs. Your hand curls around his length before pumping up and down. When he lets out a pained groan, his eyes slowly shutting at your ministrations, you find your core clenching. Heeseung looks beautiful.

He suddenly pulls your hand away and shakes his head. “No, this is about you.” He unbuttons your jeans and slides them down your legs with your underwear.

“Come ‘ere,” Heesung says, reaching out for you. He takes your hand within his before switching places with you and pulling you up on the counter. Once he makes sure you’re good, he slides his boxers down and his hands then perch themselves on your hips and he steps between your thighs. His long, dexterous fingers trace along your hips and towards the hem of your top before sliding it up your torso, completely taking it off. He spreads you out on the island and presses his face against your stomach and you shiver when his lips run along the flesh, his breath fanning your stomach.

“You’re so beautiful,” Heeseung says, looking up at you through hooded lids. His teeth gently nibble against your skin, pulling the flesh between his plush lips and sucking as he leaves marks on you. When he’s sufficiently marked your lower half, he pulls away, admiring his handiwork. He places a soft kiss against the blooming mark on your stomach before angling his head back down to kiss in between your thighs.

He begins trailing his slim fingers along your wet folds and you buck your hips into him, you can feel your wetness spreading with your movements. “What do you want, princess? Use your words.” He encourages as you involuntarily clench at nothing. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.”

“I-I want your fingers,” you’re cut off by Heeseung pinching your pussy lips. You release a loud moan and jerk your hips into his hand, “a-and your mouth.”

“Anything for my princess” He says and then trails his fingers up and down your slit, gently brushing against it. He pushes one of his long digits into your dripping heat. Your breath quickens as he begins pumping the curled finger in and out slowly. You bite down on your lip, hard enough to draw blood.

Heeseung sinks a second finger into you, you hiss. He pulls his fingers out causing you to whine, hips chasing his hand as you buck into the air. He grins at you before sucking his fingers, licking your arousal clean off of them. You clench at the sight. He leans down and places kisses on your body until he comes to your navel. He parts your legs and groans at the sight. You blush at the way he stares down your wet pussy and try to close your legs but he glares at you and shakes his head, “don’t.”

He parts your thighs again and leans down between them and places a soft kiss against your clit. You cry out and thrust your hip into his face. He pushes his lips against your clit, his tongue flicking and licking your nub as he sinks his fingers back into your snatch.

Messily, Heeseung eats you out, his tongue lashes against your clit as he plunges his fingers in and out of you at a high speed. He gently bites your clit and sucks harshly making you spasm. “I’m gonna cum.” You warn.

“Cum for me. Cum on my fingers,” Heeseung says, drawing out your orgasm. Your walls clench and he lets out a little groan. You shut your eyes tightly as you come undone all over his fingers and face. He helps you ride out your high before stepping away and moving up your body to kiss you again. “You’re so beautiful.” He mutters against your lips. He steps away for a quick moment to take his cock into his right hand and pumps it a few times. “How do you want it baby?”

“Doggy. I want you inside me. I need you to fill me with your cum.” You breathe out, your voice soft and submissive. Heeseung gulps at your words, they send a reaction straight to his cock which is painfully hard.

Heeseung wastes no more time and manhandles you into position, pulling you off the island and placing you on your feet. He gives you a quick kiss and squeeze of your ass before he turns you around and bends you over. You pant heavily, the high of your orgasm still clouding your mind. Heeseung groans at the sight of your ass and lands a clean slap to your plump flesh. You hiss at the feeling.

“Are you ready, love?” You hum and wiggle your bottom. You let out a little mewl when you feel his tip tease your entrance. He rubs his cock up and down your slit to coat his tip with your slick. You both let out shaky breaths as he slips his thickness inside you, your tight walls milking his throbbing length. You whimper and mewl at the pleasure, your entire body heating up with want. Heeseung stays like this for a few moments to let you adjust to the feeling before he starts to slip in and out of you. His thrusts start to pick up speed, hitting the right spot each time, leaving you a moaning mess. He is grunting and breathing loudly behind you. The sound of his hips slapping against your bouncing ass is loud.

“You’re such a good girl, ____.” Heeseung grunts, slamming his cock deep and hard into your pussy. You let out a high pitched gasp at the feeling. The pleasure is so amazing that you push your ass out even more, directly pressing your ass on his hips. He lays a few kisses on your neck and flexes his muscles to hold him up better, he picks up his pace again and starts fucking you hard and fast. He groans into your ear and starts whispering dirty things into your ear. The faster he goes the closer you feel to your climax. He brings his elbows closer together so that you are wedged tighter between his arms. “F-fuck, princess,” he whines, “I’m going to cum in you.” You hum and lift your ass.

“Please do.”

He fucks you deep and hard, each thrust filled with overflowing love and passion. Heeseung lets out a low growl into your ear and in one more powerful thrust, he fills you up with his warm sticky cum but he’s relentless, he continues to fuck you through his climax. You whine and mewl, you feel so full with both his thick cock and cum shoved in you, in no time you feel your orgasm crashing through your body. Heeseung continues to thrust in and out of you as you both ride out your highs. Once you’ve both calmed down he slides off of you and grabs some tissues to wipe you down. He then reaches for his boxer briefs and your hoodie to help you dress while he only slips back into his sweats.

Heeseung breaks the silence first, pulling you into his chest, his voice a gentle murmur against your hair. “Are you okay now? Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head at first, your cheek pressed to the warmth of his chest, still sticky and flushed from what you just did. It feels stupid to fall apart again when he’s already cleaned you up but the truth is you don’t know where to go from here. “I don’t even know what I’d say,” you murmur finally. “I feel like I just…I ruined my whole life.” It feels pathetic, embarrassing even. How small you must look like. The woman who swore she’d never lose herself to a man, now losing her career, her friends, her name, all because of one.

Heeseung exhales slowly as he thinks of the right words to say, to validate you but also to show that this isn’t the end even though it feels like it. His hands move up and down your back instead, his chin resting atop your head. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he says quietly. “You hit a wall. That’s not the same.”

You laugh, weak and bitter. “Feels the same.” You pull back just enough to see his face, his brows drawn tight, his mouth a line of worry he tries to hide whenever he looks at you. “I have no job, no friends, well—Jaehyun, I guess. That’s one.”

Your attempt at humor falls flat. Heeseung still smiles faintly though, the kind of smile that says he wishes he could absorb the hurt for you if it meant you’d feel even an ounce lighter. “You’ve got me,” he says simply.

You huff, eyes burning. “Yeah, I’ve got you.”

And you do but what does that mean when everything else feels like it’s slipping through your fingers? You’ve spent your whole life building this version of yourself, this person with clear goals and boundaries, with a purpose and now you’re just…what? A headline? A cautionary tale? You sink onto the barstool, elbows on the counter, staring blankly at the black bean noodles he was making before everything around you collapsed. “I don’t want to just be your girlfriend, Heeseung,” you murmur. “I don’t want that to be all I am.”

He comes around the counter, standing between your knees, his hands resting lightly on your thighs. “That’s not all you are,” he says. “You’re the woman I want to build a life with, yeah, but you’re also the woman who built herself up from nothing. You’re not done just because you’re going through a rough patch right now.”

You rest your forehead against his stomach, tired. “I don’t know if I have the energy to try again.”

His fingers rub your back, tender and slow. “Then rest. We’ll figure it out when you’re ready.” You stay there for a while and try to imagine a future you can’t yet see. One where your name isn’t synonymous with scandal, where maybe you’re not a headline but just a person again. 

TUESDAY MARCH 11TH, 2025

You’ve been up since seven, earlier than usual but instead of your typical morning routine you’re standing in the kitchen sleeves pushed up and whisk in hand, a dusting of flour on your cheek. The house is still quiet aside from the hum of the fridge and the occasional pop of the waffle maker. It feels strange to have so much time on your hands, no job to prepare for, no emails to check, just the distraction of mixing batter and making whipped cream from scratch. If you stop moving, you’ll start thinking so you don’t stop.

You’re transferring the whipped cream into a bowl when the doorbell rings. You glance up just as Heeseung passes through the kitchen, his hair still damp from his shower, towel slung over his shoulder. He raises a brow, half-smiling. “Door?” he asks, voice rough from sleep.

You wipe your hands on a dish towel. “I got it. Finish your hair before you get a cold.” Heeseung snorts, shooting you a lazy salute before heading back toward the bathroom. You pad to the front door, brushing your cheek just in case you look too disheveled and pull it open. Karina stands there, Minhee propped on her hip, his little sneakers dangling in the air. She looks composed but the way her fingers flex against Minhee’s side gives her nerves away. “Morning,” you greet softly, stepping aside so they can enter.

“Morning,” she echoes, easing Minhee to the ground. He stares up at you with wide eyes, clinging to the strap of Karina’s bag before toddling forward to toe off his shoes. Karina exhales like she’s been holding her breath the whole way over. “Thank you again for doing this. I hate imposing, I know it’s a lot.”

“You’re not imposing,” you assure. “We’re happy to watch him.”

Karina lingers by the door, shifting her bag on her shoulder. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. I don’t like cameras. I can’t control how people spin my words.”

You hesitate, glancing toward the kitchen where Heeseung is humming to himself, completely unaware. “You’re sure you want to go through with it?”

“I have to. I’ve spent so long letting other people tell my story. I’m done with that. Heeseung doesn’t deserve what’s been said about him. Neither do you.” You nod, not trusting yourself to say anything without getting choked up.

Minhee tugs at her arm. “Mommy, go! Or you’ll be late.”

Karina laughs and crouches to his level. “Okay, okay. You remember what I said? Be good, listen to Uncle Hee and Auntie.” The word throws you off, makes your heart stutter. You smile anyway and nod. She kisses Minhee’s forehead, stands, and offers you a small, grateful smile. “I’ll be back by dinner.”

You watch her leave, the door shutting quietly behind her, the lock clicking into place. A weight lifts with it, though not entirely.

When you turn, Heeseung is already approaching, drying his hair with the towel slung around his neck. He grins when he spots Minhee already climbing onto the couch cushions. “Well…you ready for a full day with a four-year-old?”

You glance at Minhee, who’s already pulling couch cushions onto the floor like he’s building a fort. “I guess we’re about to find out.”

The day blurs by. By the time it’s mid afternoon, you’re absolutely spent. Your morning was filled with laughter, sugar highs and the occasional shriek when Minhee insists the floor was lava. At some point, you attempted to bake cookies together. The three of you crowded in the kitchen with Minhee sneakily shoving chocolate chips into his mouth whenever your back was turned. You tried to scold him gently but Heeseung was no better, swiping raw dough with the same guilty grin.

Somewhere along the way, flour ended up dusting your nose. You barely registered it until Heeseung crossed the kitchen, thumb swiping it away with a grin before he pressed a kiss right there, warm and fleeting. “Can’t have you looking like a powdered donut,” he teased and you tried not to grin too hard.

___

By midday, you’d run out of snacks entirely, prompting Heeseung to dash out to Target. He came back with treats galore: dino nuggets, crinkle fries, apple juice boxes and a plush dinosaur toy that made Minhee squeal loud. Lunch was a picnic on the living room floor inside the pillow fort Minhee and Heeseung had built.

Afterward, Heeseung played the piano for Minhee, letting him press random keys while gently teaching him chords. By the time Minhee started yawning, you carried him to the guest room, tucking him beneath the covers as he mumbled about dinosaurs and piano keys. Now, you’re finally collapsed on the couch, your legs draped over Heeseung’s lap. He absentmindedly traces circles on your knee, your head resting back against the couch cushions then your phone buzzes on the coffee table, vibrating against the glass. You reach for it lazily, expecting a spam notification but when you see Jaehyun’s name light up, your heart kicks up.

12:12 pm | hyunie🐶: turn on the news right now.

You sit up straighter, glancing at Heeseung. “Can you change the channel?”

Heeseung looks over, thumb already on the remote. “What’s up?”

“Jaehyun texted, he said to turn on the news.” The second the screen flashes to the broadcast, you sit up fully. Karina’s face fills the frame, composed and seated in front of a plain backdrop with the news station’s logo faint in the corner. The headline crawls beneath her: EXCLUSIVE: Yu Karina Speaks Out — The Truth About Lee Heeseung. You don’t even realize you’ve reached for Heeseung’s hand until his fingers curl around yours, holding tight.

The anchor’s voice filters through.  “You’ve been the subject of heavy speculation, Karina. People have been asking for your side of the story regarding Heeseung, what do you have to say?”

Karina sits straighter, hands folded neatly in her lap and when she speaks, her voice is calm but sure. “I think it’s about time I told the truth,” she says. “Heeseung and I dated, yes but a lot of what’s been said…is completely false. We were young, things didn’t work out but not because he was cruel or selfish or any of the things people have tried to paint him as.”

The interviewer glances down at her cards. “There were also rumors about a pregnancy, that you and Heeseung parted ways because of it, or that he asked you to terminate.”

Karina lets out a soft breathy laugh, not from amusement but the absurdity of it. “I’m aware of those rumors and I’ll say this clearly: that baby wasn’t his and Heeseung never, not once, asked me to do anything like that.”

The interviewer leans forward. “So…it wasn’t his but he was involved?”

Karina nods, her eyes dropping to her hands briefly before meeting the interviewer’s gaze again. “When I found out I was pregnant, Heeseung was the first person I told. Not because I owed him anything but because he was…my person back then. I was scared and I didn’t know who else to turn to. His first instinct wasn’t to run or judge me, didn’t ask questions that didn’t matter. He just…offered to be there. To raise the baby with me even though it wasn’t his. I don’t think people realize what that meant to me.” You feel Heeseung’s hand tighten slightly in yours, his eyes unmoving from the screen.

“So why did things end?”

Karina exhales slowly. “Because I couldn’t let him do that to himself. Heeseung had already given up so much of his own life for his family. I couldn’t be the next person to ask that of him. I wanted him to be happy, to be free to live his life without carrying my choices on his back. Leaving was hard, it broke both of us but it was the right thing.”

The interviewer glances down at her cards again, voice careful. “So all these portrayals of Heeseung being a manipulative playboy…?”

Karina lets out a laugh at that. “That’s not who he is. The Heeseung I knew was complicated, sure but he was figuring himself out like we all do in college but he was never unkind. He was careful with my feelings even when he didn’t have to be. The stories circulating now? That’s not the man I knew.” You watch the screen, heart swelling but it’s the next question that really makes your chest ache.

“And are you aware of his current relationship?” the interviewer asks, tilting her head curiously. “There’s been a lot of public speculation.”

Karina smiles softly. “I can’t speak on his relationship, it’s not my place but what I can say is he looks happy. Genuinely happy and after everything he’s been through, I think he deserves that.”

The interviewer picks up on the softness in Karina’s smile and presses further. “I have to ask…don’t you think it sends the wrong message? That you’re supporting him even though, by the public’s understanding, his current relationship started while he was still engaged to Sakura? Doesn’t that condone cheating?”

On the couch, you feel Heeseung tense beside you. You keep your gaze on the TV though your throat tightens. Karina shrugs, her composure unshaken. “I’m not here to comment on anyone’s morality nor here to condone anything. What I do know, what I can speak to, is that the man I knew, the man who stood by me when he didn’t have to, isn’t some cold, careless person who plays with people’s hearts.”

The interviewer’s lips press together, unconvinced. “Still, it does paint a messy picture.”

Karina exhales through her nose. “Life is messy. People make decisions others won’t always understand. I haven’t spoken to Heeseung about his engagement or how things ended between him and Sakura but what I do know is Heeseung doesn’t do things carelessly. If he’s with someone else, I know he took the time to fully think it through.” There’s a finality in her words, not defensive but resolute and for a moment the interviewer seems caught off guard by it. “And I’m not the morality police,” Karina finishes, trying to crack a joke. “I’m just here to make sure people stop dragging his name through the mud for things that aren’t true. That’s all.”

Heeseung releases a shaky breath beside you. You can hear it, the emotion he keeps trying to hide, like her words are quietly patching over years of being misunderstood. Your heart aches watching him because even with the truth finally coming to light, there’s no undoing the damage already done but at least, for the first time, someone is publicly defending him.

You turn your attention back to the TV in time to see Karina pause then quietly say,  “And I’ll say one more thing, if that’s okay.” The interviewer gestures for her to continue.

“The things that have been said about ____,” Karina says, pronouncing your name clearly, “are appalling. I’ve seen the posts. The articles, the comments, the death threats, the body shaming—frankly, the misogyny. It’s disgusting.” You feel your breath catch, even Heeseung straightens beside you, stunned.

Karina’s mouth pulls into a tight line. “You asked me if defending Heeseung condones cheating but what does this condone? That bullying is acceptable? That we get to vilify women for choices they made in private without ever knowing the full story? Because that’s the message people are sending.”

The interviewer shifts in her seat, visibly uncomfortable but Karina doesn’t let up. “I don’t care how people feel about the situation. None of that justifies the hate she’s been getting. She’s a human being. She doesn’t deserve to be dehumanized by strangers who don’t even know her name beyond a headline.”

You swallow hard, your throat thick. Heeseung’s hand finds yours again, squeezing tightly. Karina finally exhales, voice softening. “Like I said, life is messy but no one deserves to be reduced to the worst version of themselves to fit someone else’s narrative.” There’s a beat of silence. Even the interviewer looks chastened by the sincerity in her voice. “And that’s really all I’ll be saying about that situation,” Karina adds, sitting back in her chair, composed but firm.

___

By the time evening rolls around, the weight in your chest has eased just slightly. Karina’s interview played through the afternoon and though the news cycle hasn’t moved on entirely, the headlines aren’t as cruel now, some even commend her for clearing the air. A few journalists cautiously admit that maybe, just maybe, everyone was too quick to choose their villain, that maybe this situation doesn’t even have a clear villain.

You haven’t checked your phone much since, too afraid of what the notifications might say but with every hour that’s passed, you’re slowly becoming more optimistic. Now, the sun is dipping below the horizon and Minhee is sprawled on the floor with Heeseung, surrounded by scattered Legos. They’re midway through building an F1 car, Minhee insists it’s going to look just like Uncle Hee’s, though you’re not entirely sure which car he means.

The doorbell rings just as Heeseung lets out a playful groan. “Minhee, buddy, I don’t think this piece fits here.”

“Yes it does!” Minhee insists, holding up the tiny block triumphantly. You smile to yourself, brushing your hands on your jeans as you make your way to the door. When you open it, Karina’s standing there with the faintest hint of fatigue in her eyes but still, she smiles.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey.” You step aside to let her in. “How’d it go after? Are you okay?”

She nods, slipping off her shoes. “Yeah. It was a lot but I’m okay.”

You glance over your shoulder as Minhee’s laughter rings out. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner if you’re hungry.” You offer.

Before she can answer, Minhee spots her. “Mommy! Can I stay? Please, please? Uncle Hee said we could finish the car together.”

Karina arches a brow but there’s no real resistance. She exhales, mock defeated. “Fine but only if Auntie is making dessert too.”

You laugh, waving her further inside. “We made cookies earlier, actually.”

Karina trails you into the kitchen, slipping easily into step beside you as you start pulling ingredients from the fridge. She helps without being asked, washing vegetables, slicing neatly while you prep the pan. For a moment, it’s just the rhythm of cooking between you, punctured by the occasional clang of lego pieces in the other room and Minhee’s giggles. “Thank you,” you say after a moment, keeping your eyes on the cutting board but meaning every word. “For what you said today. For defending me.”

Karina shrugs, brushing the peels aside. “Us girls have to stick together, right?” she says lightly but the sentiment feels heavier…you wish Chisa could believe the same. She glances toward the living room where Heeseung is pretending to be a race car himself, arms outstretched, chasing Minhee around the couch. “He’ll make a good dad.”

You follow her gaze, smiling despite yourself. The image of Heeseung like this; soft and playful, utterly at ease…it’s seared into your heart. “Yeah,” you murmur, “he really will.”

Karina exhales like she’s been holding something in. “Don’t make the same mistakes I did,” she says quietly. “Heeseung’s…he’s a good guy. Don’t push him away, not if you can help it.” You nod, throat tight, unsure if you can even speak without your voice cracking. She smiles faintly, bumping your shoulder. “He looks happy. You both do, don’t lose that.” She says.

In the living room, Minhee shrieks with laughter as Heeseung scoops him up, spinning him around until they both collapse onto the couch in a heap of giggles. You and Karina share a look, one of mutual understanding and maybe finally, peace. In that moment, you let yourself believe that everything really is going to be okay.

FRIDAY MARCH 14TH, 2025

It’s been three days since Karina’s interview aired, three days since the air shifted and the city started softening in the way it looks at you and Heeseung. The two of you spent the day after her broadcast wandering Seoul with her and Minhee, the four of you slipping in and out of cafés and bookstores, ducking through narrow alleyways lined with street vendors and hidden murals. Minhee clung to yours and Heeseung’s hands, alternating between dragging you to the next stop and stubbornly stalling every time he realized the day was winding down. When it was time to part, he cried so hard his face flushed and became blotchy, it took Karina bribing him with the promise of coming back for summer break just to get him in the car. Even when they pulled away, his little hand remained pressed against the window, his nose scrunched, waving until you were nothing but a dot in the rearview mirror.

The next day you and Heeseung threw yourselves into homemaking, he wanted new furniture; things that were yours as much as his and it made something deep inside you ache, the fact that he thought to make space without you asking. You wandered showrooms together measuring sofas and testing mattress firmness, debating paint swatches you didn't actually need just for the fun of it. It was comforting, almost healing. It served as a reminder that life was still moving forward.

Now it’s Friday and you’re back in your old apartment though calling it “yours” feels wrong now. The space feels different, hollowed out and dim, like it knows you’re only here to leave for good. You texted Chisa you’d be leaving, you still have two months left on your lease but you can’t stay somewhere you’re not welcomed. You told her you’d continue to pay your portion but she never responded.

You’ve barely stepped inside when Heeseung’s friends, Jay and Jake, get to work in the kitchen under your instructions, there’s not much to pack up besides your pink pots and pans and the baking tools you obsessively collected over the years. You and Heeseung drift to your bedroom which is mostly bare now, your clothes have been trickling into his house for weeks, long before he asked you to move in. What’s left is furniture you’ve listed on Facebook marketplace, an old bed frame, a scuffed desk and a few scattered trinkets.

You both work quietly. Heeseung is crouched on the floor disassembling your desk, the sound of his screwdriver clicking against wood while you sift through desk drawers, sorting things into piles—keep, toss, donate. An hour passes like this when the front door opens. You still instantly, breath catching in your chest. Chisa’s home.

You keep your hands busy, reorganizing drawer contents that don’t really need it, your heart thudding too hard. Heeseung looks up from the floor, eyes cutting to the doorway then back to you. “Are you gonna talk to her?” he asks quietly, not pushing but prompting. You shrug, unable to answer. You’re not sure if the answer even exists.

He sets down the screwdriver with a gentle clink and stands, brushing off his jeans before closing the distance between you. His hand finds yours, his thumb drawing slow circles across your knuckles. “I think you should,” he says softly. “I know she’s caused a lot of…hurt but you don’t owe her forgiveness, do it for closure baby.”

You know he’s right but closure feels like too small a word for the knots in your stomach. How do you get closure from someone who was supposed to be your sister? Someone who knew the darkest corners of your heart and still went for the jugular, someone who put her career above your privacy and let the world dehumanize you and never once came to your defense?

Just then you hear footsteps. A shadow shifts at your door and then she’s there, standing at the threshold of your almost-empty room. She looks thinner than you remember, her face paler, like she hasn’t been sleeping well. She stops just short of stepping inside, her eyes catching on yours before glancing away, like she knows she’s not welcome in this space anymore. She clears her throat, voice tight and uncertain. “Can we talk?”

You nod slowly, voice quiet. “Yeah, we can talk.”

Heeseung gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his smile soft and reassuring then he presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be here finishing up.” He mutters against your forehead. You release a shaky breath and follow Chisa out of your room, down the hall into hers. It feels surreal. How many nights did you used to pile into her bed just to talk shit about your days? Or to cry after bad dates, to vent about your family, to share dreams neither of you were fully sure you’d reach?

Now it feels tense, like neither of you knows how to inhabit the same space anymore. Chisa lingers by her desk, arms folded awkwardly. She doesn’t sit, you don’t either. She clears her throat and it sounds weak. “I saw Karina’s interview.” You say nothing. What can you even say to that? So you stay quiet and wait. She shifts uncomfortably, eyes cast low. “I’m…sorry.”

You blink at her. That’s it? That’s all she has? That word, that pathetic word, barely scratches the surface. After everything? After the ways your life blew up in the span of a few days, after your reputation was torn to shreds, the death threats, the isolation— that’s what she leads with?

“Sorry?” you echo, voice sharp. You shake your head, a bitter laugh bubbling up, one you can’t stop. “That’s all you’ve got?”

Chisa winces, mouth opening but no sound comes. She scrambles for an explanation. “I didn’t know,” she says. “I…I thought my source was reputable, okay? I never would’ve posted it if I knew it wasn’t true.”

You stare at her, heat rising under your skin, your voice stone cold. “I told you, Chisa. I told you the morning you ran it that your source was lying, that the story was wrong. You didn’t care if it was real or who it hurt, you just cared that it was good for your career!”

“That’s not fair,” she snaps back. “I didn’t even write about you! That wasn’t me! The gossip sites ran with it, not me.”

“Don’t,” you bite, shaking your head. “Don’t pretend your hands are clean just because you didn’t say my name. You don’t get to sit here and act like it wasn’t your think piece that burned my life down.”

Her eyes narrow at you. “I’m not the one who cheated.” She says plainly.

And that, that punches the air right out of your lungs. This is the hill she’s chosen to die on. You press your hands to your temples, your voice shaking as it rises. “For fucks sakes, Chisa! It wasn’t intentional! Sue me! I didn’t wake up one day and decide to fall for Heeseung, okay? I didn’t ask for this! I tried so hard to avoid it but it happened and whether you want to admit it or not, your article ruined my life!”

You feel yourself unraveling, breath hitching and throat tight but you can’t stop talking. “Do you think it’s been easy? Walking outside knowing people think I’m the kind of woman who sleeps her way to relevance? That there are people out there who genuinely want me dead?”

Chisa watches you with her arms crossed, her lips parting like she might say something, almost as if it’s starting to click just how vicious the media has been to you but then it’s gone. She snaps back into her detached self, into the version of her that knows how to dig in her heels. “No. That's not on me, you ruined your own life the day you started sleeping with an engaged man.” She says calmly, voice flat.

You swallow hard, pressing your palms together like it’s the only way to hold yourself together. You nod slowly and steady though your chest feels like it’s splintering apart. “He didn’t love her. Heeseung was forced into a contract marriage with Sakura. He was going to end it the day you dropped that article, Chisa. The very same day so we could be together but his father pulled strings to keep it going, to protect their image.”

She swallows visibly but you’re not done. “You think I don’t know I fucked up? You think I didn’t sit with that? I hated myself for weeks because I thought I turned into my father. I’ve lived with that guilt every single day since it happened.” You point to your own chest. “But the difference between us? I’ve paid for it, every day. I lost everything: my job, my credibility, my reputation. I’ve been reduced to the worst version of myself in the eyes of people who’ve never even met me and you? You started that, you hurt innocent people too but for some reason I’m the only one who needs to dish out apologies.”

Chisa’s eyes falter, her arms crossing tighter over her chest, like that’ll keep her from cracking. She tries to say something but you shake your head. “You didn’t just ruin my life, you ruined Heeseung’s, Sakura’s, even Karina’s! One day her son will grow up and read the shit people wrote about his mother, about decisions she made when she was a teenager and for what? A fucking promotion!?”

Chisa deflates and opens her mouth. “...That still doesn’t absolve you of what you did.”

You exhale through your nose sharply. She’ll never understand. “I’m not asking to be absolved, I have owned it since the day it happened and so has Heeseung, we so desperately wish things hadn’t happened the way they did but we can’t go back, just move forward so save me the self-righteous act. People do selfish things even when they think they’re right. I did. You did. Don’t stand there and act like you didn’t.”

Chisa’s mouth presses into a thin line, her gaze darting somewhere over your shoulder like she can’t stand to look at you and still hold her ground. Her arms stay crossed but you can see her resolve thinning but still, she doesn’t say anything. She just stands there, like that posture alone is enough to prove she’s right.

It’s almost funny in a sick, bitter way. The two of you standing in this room pretending like there’s still a version of this friendship to defend. Pretending there’s still something worth salvaging when all that’s left is hurt and resentment. You let out a breath that feels like it’s been sitting in your chest for years. “I used to think there was nothing I could do that would make you stop seeing me as your friend,” you say quietly. “But I was wrong. Turns out, all I had to do was fall in love.”

It’s not fair. You know it isn’t because if there was anyone who wanted you to find love, it was Chisa. You used to stay up late as kids imagining it together, whispering in the dark about the kind of men you’d end up with, the ones who’d love you more than anything, who’d look at you like you hung the stars. She’d always tell you yours would love you the most, that yours would be perfect. The harsh truth though is that nothing about this has been fair, she hasn’t been fair and you’re tired of trying to shrink your hurt down to something more palatable just because she can’t stomach the part she played in it. Maybe that’s why this hurts worse, because once upon a time she wanted this for you. Maybe not like this, maybe not in the mess you ended up in but she wanted you happy. She wanted you loved.

You take a step back, exhaustion catching up to you all at once. “I’m done, Chisa. I don’t have anything else to give you. I’ve said everything I can. You can keep pretending you’re on some higher moral ground but don’t kid yourself.” She shakes her head weakly but doesn’t fight you on it. Maybe she knows. “I hope the promotion was worth it,” you finish and it’s not spiteful, just sad and true.

You leave her standing there, small and stubborn in her own room, surrounded by the ghosts of who you used to be together. She doesn’t follow, she doesn’t even call your name. You cross the hallway back to your room or rather, what’s left of it. Heeseung’s by the door with Jay and Jake, your life packed into boxes between them, every last bit of you collected and ready to go. He doesn’t ask how it went. He doesn’t need to. He just reaches for your hand, squeezing gently, almost as if he’s reminding you that you still have something left to hold on to. You squeeze back and together, the four of you leave. You don’t look back but again, the word follows you; Temptation.

It’s what started this. That small, insistent pull. That curiosity that demanded to be explored. The wanting you tried to ignore until it became something you’d burn for. You don’t regret heeseung, you never will but you regret the collateral: the lives altered, the friendships gutted, the pieces of yourself you’ll never quite fit back together the same way. You’ll always mourn the things that couldn’t survive it but this is love. Messy, complicated, unforgivable in some ways but love nonetheless and it will always be worth it.

You turn your head towards the hallway he dissapeared down wondering what’s taking him so long. You stand and walk towards the door to check on him. “Hee?” you call softly, pushing off the couch and padding toward the entryway but when you reach the hallway your steps falter.

Heeseung is just standing there completely still, like he’s forgotten how to move. You frown as you come up behind him. “Baby, are you okay?”

You trail off as you peek around his frame. There’s a woman standing in the doorway, maybe around your age. Her hair’s pulled into a loose bun and her eyes flicker briefly to yours before drifting back to the man in front of her. A little boy clings to her, his arms wrapped tightly around her neck, face buried in the crook of her shoulder. You’ve never seen her before but something in your gut twists. You already know.