#flashback heavy

“Let’s get divorced,” he says, his voice calm. almost detached.

You knew this moment was coming, but the words still hit like a punch to the gut. Your hands tremble as you continue washing the dishes, your back still turned to him. You try to speak, but your mind goes blank—overwhelmed by the weight of everything. The only sounds in the kitchen are the running water and the soft clinking of dishes, a cruel reminder of the normalcy that is slipping away.

“Y/N,” he pauses, “Let’s get divorced.”

He repeats himself, and this time, you catch the pleading edge in his voice.

A chill snakes down your spine, and your fingers go numb as the realization sinks in. You stop breathing. With trembling fingers, you shut off the faucet and dry your hands on your apron. fighting back tears, clinging to the emotionless facade you’ve perfected.

When you finally turn, he’s standing across the kitchen counter, just inches away, yet it feels like he's miles away from you. His gaze is fixed on a single piece of paper on the counter. Your heart plummets as you realize what it is   'he’s already filed for it.’  Silence stretches, and all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears. You swallow hard, trying to force down the bitter lump forming in your throat.

Finally, he meets your eyes, his expression as hollow as your own. But behind the emptiness, you sense the storm he's barely holding back. You nod slowly, blinking away the tears that threaten to spill, each movement a painful reminder of what you’re about to lose.

You step closer and pick up the paper. The words blur as your mind drifts. to when you first met him, not this unbearable emptiness ending.

━━━━⊱ FLASH BACK ⊰━━━━

The doorbell jingled, a soft chime carried in with the breeze as the café door swung open. You instinctively lifted your head, flashing your usual bright smile.

“Hi, welcome to The Coffee Love!”

Your hands were busy with the finishing touch on a mocha latte, swirling the last ribbon of whipped cream before sliding the cup across the counter with practiced ease. Turning toward the next customer in line, your smile stayed firmly in place until your gaze landed on him.

'his new'

He wasn’t familiar. Tall, broad-shouldered, with an air of hesitation clinging to him as he stepped inside. His curious, almost cautious expression gave him away instantly as someone new.

Most of your regulars were neighborhood residents or office workers from nearby buildings. You knew their faces, their orders, even their habits. But this man? Definitely not from around here.

“Good morning! What can I get started for you today?” you asked, letting your voice slip into its usual cheerful rhythm.

He lifted his gaze, meeting yours briefly. His eyes were surprisingly soft, almost gentle, before flicking upward toward the chalkboard menu above your head. He squinted slightly, brows furrowed in thought, and you found yourself smiling at the way his nose scrunched in concentration. 'Cute'

After a moment, he turned back to you. “What would you recommend?”

Your mind flipped quickly through the options, and you gestured toward the menu. “Well, if you’re into strong coffee, I’d suggest the Express Espresso. If you’d like something tea-based and caffeine-free, there’s the Flir-Tea. Or” your lips curved as you added “if you’re in the mood for something fruity, the I Love You Berrymuch is a popular choice.”

The corner of his mouth tugged upward, and then he chuckled low, warm, and unguarded. You felt heat creep into your cheeks before you could stop it. Customers laughed at your café’s overly cheesy drink names all the time, but his laugh felt different. Softer. Warmer.

“I’ll take the Express Espresso, then,” he said, still smiling.

‘Oh, a coffee person,’ you thought, tapping his order into the register.

“Will that be for here or to go?”

“For here.”

“Cold or hot?”

“Hot, please.”

Nodding, you noted his preference and began preparing the espresso. As your hands moved automatically through the motions, your training surfaced. always suggest a pastry.

“How about something from our pastry selection? We’ve got fresh options today.”

His gaze flicked toward the display case, then back to you. “French toast sounds good. Could you warm it up? I prefer it that way.”

“Of course.” You added it to his order and rang it up. “That’ll be 25,500 won.”

He handed over a sleek black card with effortless ease.

‘Whoa… a rich young man, huh?’ you mused silently as you glanced down at the embossed name. 'Jeong Yunho' Somehow, it suited him perfectly.

“Here’s your receipt,” you said, handing it back. “You can take a seat, and I’ll bring your order over shortly. Thank you.”

He gave you another smile, one that felt disarmingly warm. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You blinked, startled. 'How did he—'

Before you could ask, he lifted a finger and pointed at your nametag.

“Oh… right.” You laughed awkwardly, cheeks warming.

Turning quickly, you busied yourself behind the counter, hoping he hadn’t noticed your embarrassment. But the amused glint in his eyes as he walked away told you otherwise.

He chose a table by the window, sunlight spilling across the wood and onto his shoulders. It was the kind of spot perfect for people-watching or for letting the mind wander. Outside, the streets bustled with life, but in here the café felt calm, safe. He exhaled slowly, almost as if the weight he carried had lightened the moment he sat down.

You prepared his order, balancing the espresso and warm French toast on a tray before carrying it over. “Here you go,” you said softly as you set it down.

“Thank you.”

You pulled a small card from your apron pocket. “Would you like a stamp card? Each drink gets you a sticker. Collect ten, and you’ll win a mystery blind box with our exclusive café characters.”

It was routine, the same pitch you gave every customer, but somehow you found yourself stumbling over the words, your chest tight with nerves.

He studied you, gaze lingering a second longer than polite. Under the weight of it, your cheeks flushed hot. 'Why is he looking at me like that?'

Then, his lips curved. “Sure, I’ll take one.” He accepted the card with a nod. “This place smells amazing, by the way.”

He lifted his espresso for a sip, only to flinch back almost immediately. “Hot,” he muttered, wincing playfully.

You stifled a laugh, covering your smile with the back of your hand before offering him a tissue. When his fingers brushed against yours, the smallest spark ran up your arm, quick and startling. Your stomach fluttered, leaving you unsteady as you turned back toward the counter.

But even as you served the next customer, your thoughts drifted. Against your better judgment, you glanced over your shoulder and caught him watching you. Not idly, but with quiet intent. His gaze was steady, tender even, as though he were committing the moment to memory.

Curiosity flickered in his eyes, threaded with something softer. Captivation. You felt it like a weight in your chest, warm and strange.

To him, there was something about you. About the way you moved as though the café’s rhythm was your own, about the way your smile seemed to brighten the room, that made the unfamiliar space feel like home.

And for the first time in a long while, Yunho thought maybe he hadn’t come to this city just to move forward. Maybe fate had guided him here: to this café, this moment, and maybe even to you.

The thought settled quietly in his chest, fragile yet undeniable.

Maybe this is the beginning of a new chapter in his life.

━━━━⊱ END OF FLASHBACK ⊰━━━━

No matter how cliché your first meeting was, you never imagined the ending would feel this cruel. What began as something ordinary turned out to be the most extraordinary love, only to shatter at the most unexpected time.

You lower the divorce paper slowly, keeping your gaze fixed on the ink as if the words might fade if you stare long enough.

He sits still, bracing himself for whatever you’re about to say. no matter how sharp or gutting. Deep inside, he knows he deserves it. He knows this is on him.

You finally meet his eyes, and in them, you see it. The guilt, the fear, the sorrow he’s trying so desperately to hold back. Tears cling to his lashes.

You surprise him with a soft, genuine smile. It’s not forced. It’s not bitter. It’s the kind that makes him ache even more. He didn’t expect kindness.

“Let’s go through with it,” you say, your voice steady despite the war in your chest. “But I have one condition.”

You inhale sharply, clenching your jaw to hold yourself together as the sting builds behind your eyes.

He didn't expect you to agree so easily. Not without a fight. He thought you'd ask why or who? It would’ve been easier that way. The usual.

Questions scream in his head, but he forces himself to stay silent.

“Just one week,” you whisper, your voice breaking, “Let’s pretend you’re still in love with me. Accompany me wherever I want to go.”

You pause, swallowing down the pain clawing up your throat.

“After that,” you say with finality, “I’ll sign the papers.”

You know how foolish this request must sound. Pitiful, even. But you don’t care.

“Y/N…” His voice is low. Hesitant. “We don’t need to pretend to be in love again because nothing will change.”

He hesitates, then adds softly, “You’re not… trying to fix this, are you?”

He thought that you were doing this to reconcile the relationship.

His words hit you like a punch to the ribs. The finality of it carves a sharp ache in your chest.

He squeezes his eyes shut, struggling to keep the dam from breaking. Then, barely above a whisper—he begs.

“Y/N… I’m really sorry. I’m the one who messed everything up.” His voice cracks, splintering in the quiet.

Tears break loose, and his shoulders shake as he bows his head. He failed you. He knows. He’s been carrying it all this time.

You gasp quietly as your tears finally spill over. Your heart races, looking at the broken man before you. the same man you once considered home.

He runs trembling hands down his face, dragging the pain away before lifting his eyes to meet yours.

He breathes in sharply, chest rising with the effort to steady himself.

“I cheated on you.!” The words burst out like a confession on fire.

It comes out fast, raw, burning.

“I’m really sorry”

The moment he admits it, your world caves in. The confirmation cuts through you like glass. You had suspected… but hearing it aloud.. hearing it from him. it was different.

Sneaking to the bathroom to answer late-night calls in the bathroom, the constant ‘working late’ excuses, the faint trace of a perfume that wasn’t yours; it all makes sense now.

Your heart breaks in slow motion. The man who once made you feel safe, who knew the rhythm of your days, is now holding someone else, loving someone else, building new smiles that no longer include you. The man you love the most is falling for someone else.

Silence, thick and suffocating.

“I know it won’t change anything,” you continue. “And I don’t expect you to take me back. But… let’s end this with something soft and in good ter-(m) 

He interrupts.

“But Y/N… I don’t want to hurt you more—”

“No buts.” You cut him off, firm but gentle.

“Also, our conjugal property, you will keep them. I don’t need those.”

You recall one clause in the divorce papers and let out a bitter chuckle under your breath.

“You bought most of it anyway. So, technically, it’s already yours.”

You confidently say it.

He stares at you like you’ve grown horns. Like he can’t understand how you’re being so selfless.

“No! That’s not right, Y/N!” he bursts out, voice rising.

His voice echoes louder than intended. He can’t understand why you’re being so gracious. It makes the guilt cut deeper. He wants to question your motive, but how could he, when he’s the one who destroyed everything?

“Please… don’t do this. I’m the one who ruined us. I don’t deserve your kindness... not when I’m the reason you’re hurting.”

He breaks down again. He sobs openly now, more than you’ve ever seen.

You move toward him instinctively and wrap your arms around him. Even now, even though your relationship is falling apart, you will not and you can’t stop caring for him. He buries his face into your neck and you both cry in each other's arms. You hold him, rubbing slow circles on his back.

After what feels like a lifetime, you pull apart..

You wipe his cheeks even as yours remain soaked.

“Yah! Jeong Yunho” you speak, trying to steady yourself.

you tried to get his attention urging him to meet your eyes but he keeps his eyes on the floor.

“Look at me,” you plead softly.

He finally lifts his eyes to you; puffy, red, broken. And if your heart weren’t shattering, you might’ve told him how cute his little pout, even like this.

“One week,” you say again. “Then we’ll divorce. Let’s not cause more pain than we already have. Let’s just… leave each other with dignity.  I also have my fair share of why we reached this end of our story”

Your voice trembles, barely above a whisper. Your head throbs from crying, but you keep going.

“No.. no.. no.. Please don’t say that. This is my fault, Y/N. All of it.” He shakes his head, tears renewed.

He rambles through the sobs.

You take one final breath and wipe your tears away.

“Just a week, Yunho.”

“Pretend you still love me… just one last time.”

You’re done. There’s nothing left to say in this conversation.

You turn around and walk toward the bedroom. The one you once shared with him. You close the door quietly behind you and lock it.

You collapse onto the cold floor, and you cry your heart out, the cold wind chilling your skin. You cover your mouth with your left hand,a silent scream trapped beneath your palm while the other hand keeps pounding to your aching heart trying to claw the pain out. But it won’t leave.

After a while, you feel dizzy and your head hurts so much. And not that long that you feel your body goes numb, and before you can reach the bed, you black out. The cold floor cradles you like sorrow itself.

━━━━⊱ Meanwhile ⊰━━━━

As you walk away from him, Yunho remains frozen, trying to process everything. Thoughts begin to spiral in his mind like a storm.

“That’s it? That’s how it ends for us?”

He still can’t comprehend how calmly you handled everything so unlike what he had expected, unlike how most couples fall apart in rage or taunt each other.

He shakes his head, reminding himself not to question you, because he knows just how kind and considerate you are. How endlessly selfless you’ve always been.

 The flashback from his proposal comes to his mind

 ━━━━⊱ FLASH BACK ⊰━━━━

“y/n, will you marry me?”

He’s on one knee beneath the glowing auroras of Alaska, asking you the most important question of his life

“Love…” You begin to cry, and so does he. both overcome by the rush of overwhelming joy.

You nod through your tears, breathless. “Of course, Yunho… yes! It’s a yes!”

With a shaky hand he slips the ring onto your finger and kisses you gently. The two of you embrace tightly, holding on to the moment. 

“Love… if one day you ever fall out of love with me, please promise, you’ll tell me first. I deserve to be the one who knows.”

Out of nowhere, you spoke those words

He pulled back from the hug and looked at you, puzzled; as if he’d misheard.

“What did you just say?”

He asked to confirm.

“Are you getting cold feet now?”  he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, but your face stayed serious.

It’s not a secret to Yunho that you are from a broken family. You’d seen firsthand how loving someone too deeply could destroy them, especially if the other one stops loving the other.

 Since then you always have the mindset that if you will love someone, you will make sure that both of you will not suffer or break one another no matter what the situation is.

“Stop. That will never happen. We’re never falling out of love. I promise you that, because you’re my last love. and I couldn’t live without you. he chuckled and continue I mean look, how am I supposed to live without you? That’s why I’m marrying you”

He gave you that best smile. The one that you always fall in love with .Then he hugged you from behind as the aurora borealis shimmered above, sealing his forever promise.

━━━━⊱ END FLASHBACK ⊰━━━━

Remembering that, Yunho realizes just how deeply he failed you. You're not just his wife but also his best friend. Now he betrayed you. His breath catches; the kitchen suddenly feels suffocating, like the walls are closing in.

The room shrinks around him. He grabs his coat and bolts out the door.

He drives aimlessly to his old condominium. The moment he opens the door, memories hit him like a tidal wave. 

Memories of you.

And that night, Yunho cries harder than he has in years.