Chapter 43

The moment our eyes met, I could see the shock flash across Haemin’s face. He froze as if the air had been knocked out of him, clearly not expecting me here. My own chest tightened, but I steadied myself, smoothing away any trace of surprise.

I offered him a warm, composed smile, as though this meeting were nothing more than a pleasant coincidence.

“Haemin,” I said softly, his name rolling off my lips with ease.

Auntie Miyeon’s eyes widened as she looked between us. “Oh? You two… know each other?” she asked, her tone laced with curiosity.

I inclined my head gracefully. “Just a brief encounter,” I admitted smoothly, my gaze never leaving Haemin’s face.

Auntie seemed satisfied enough with the answer. She pulled Haemin forward gently to sit with me. Haemin shifted nervously before lowering himself into the seat across from me.

I found my gaze drawn to him again, and just like the first time we met at the hospital, my heart gave that same unsteady flutter. It hadn’t changed—every time I looked at him, the feeling returned, soft and undeniable, no matter how much I tried to ignore it.

We exchanged a few words, a little polite conversation, but time was not on our side. I wanted to say more, to linger and draw him into a longer exchange, yet when my gaze flicked to the clock on the wall, irritation stirred inside me. The meeting my father had arranged was approaching, and duty was pulling me away again.

I didn’t want to leave things here. With a calm smile, I invited him to show me around the city this evening.

Instead of looking pleased, his face stiffened. He quickly shook his head, offering some silly excuse as though he could wriggle free. For a brief second, I almost laughed. The audacity of him—to reject me so directly. Still, beneath my amusement, there was a faint sting. It hurt, even if I wouldn’t admit it aloud.

But then Auntie Miyeon stepped in, insisting he accompany me, and just like that, his resistance fell apart. Of course, even without her interference, I had plenty of ways to make sure he wouldn’t escape me.

And so, with the matter settled, I found myself quietly anticipating the evening ahead. The thought of spending the entire night in his company—just him and me—made my heart stir in a way I hadn’t expected.

———

The meeting with the government officials dragged on longer than I would have liked. I sat across the polished table, nodding politely, but my mind wasn’t here. My thoughts had long drifted away. Every tick of the clock felt like a chain, keeping me from where I truly wanted to be.

When the discussion finally concluded, I rose smoothly, offering the bare minimum of courtesy. Yet as soon as we stood, a line of businessmen and high-ranking officials closed in, eager to exchange greetings.

I didn’t even glance at them. Without a word, I walked straight past, leaving them in awkward silence. Their voices trailed behind me, but I had no patience to entertain them. 

I had somewhere else to be.

Twenty minutes later, I returned to the restaurant, and there he was. His clothes were simple, nothing extravagant, yet somehow they suited him perfectly. Effortlessly charming, as if he didn’t even have to try.

When he slipped into the passenger seat of my car, he avoided looking at me directly. I couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

As I began driving, I noticed how stiff he looked, especially when people glanced toward the car. A faint sigh escaped me. If I’d known he disliked this, I should have drive something simpler. I made a quiet note to myself for next time.

When we stepped into the seafood restaurant, I felt the usual shift in the air. Eyes turned, whispers followed, and I walked through it as I always did—calm and composed. I was used to the stares. But Haemin wasn’t. I caught the way his shoulders stiffened, the way he shrank slightly into himself, and guilt pricked at me. Sorry, Haemin, I thought, wishing I could shield him from all of it.

I ordered without glancing at the menu, eager for the waitress to leave us alone. When the food came, his eyes lit up just for a moment before he tried to hide it. That tiny spark was enough to tighten my chest.

He ate quietly, awkwardly, and every small reaction of his made me ache. When I offered him food, he hesitated like it was the most scandalous thing in the world. When he finally leaned forward and took it, his ears turned red. That simple motion nearly undid me. He had no idea how endearing he was.

When the meal ended, he reached for the bill. Cute. As if I’d ever let him pay. I brushed him off easily, enjoying the faint crease of frustration on his brow.

I didn’t want the night to end. So I dragged him to a barbecue place. The place was packed, eyes followed again, and I felt irritation stirring. For a second, I almost wished I had rented the entire restaurant, just so I could have alone time with him. But I knew he would hate that.

We went to more places after that, wandering through the night. And though I stayed close, he kept that tiny bit of distance between us. It hurt more than I wanted to admit. Was he avoiding me on purpose?

I pushed harder. Took him to the beach. Let the waves and moonlight do the talking I couldn’t. I gave him a chance, a hint, a door wide open. But he didn’t step through. He knew what I meant—his eyes told me that—but he chose to ignore it.

Disappointment twisted inside me. Not just because he rejected me, but because I realized how much I wanted him to accept.

When I drove him back, the silence in the car was thick. I fought with myself, with the storm inside me that I couldn’t contain anymore. I wanted to hold him, to make him see me, to make him admit that he felt something too.

The anger surged before I could stop it. With a sharp twist of the wheel, I slammed the brakes. Tires screeched, the car lurched, and we came to a sudden halt in the middle of the road.

I lashed out at him, blurting out my feelings without restraint. My heart was pounding but even then, he still tried to avoid me, as if my emotions were something he could simply sidestep. The rejection burned. My pride screamed against it. My ego couldn’t allow it.

I reached for him. In one swift motion, I climbed over, forcing him back into the leather seat. My knees pressed into his waist, trapping him in place while my hand locking his wrist firmly against the seat. I could feel his pulse thrumming beneath my grip, quick and nervous.

In that moment, reason slipped away from me. I didn’t care about anything anymore. I told myself I would beg for his forgiveness afterward, that I would take full responsibility for what I was doing.

But somehow, in the blur of emotions, I managed to stop myself. The storm inside me broke for just long enough to let reason return. Shame pierced through the haze. My grip loosened, my body sagged with regret. The words tumbled out of me—an apology, hurried and unsteady. I told him I was sorry, that I regretted what I had done. To my relief, he forgave me.

I sent him home after that, though my chest felt like it was caving in with every passing second. Just before he left, he turned to me, his voice low but steady, and said this would be the last time we would meet.

The words shattered me. A sharp crack echoed in my heart, leaving behind a hollow ache that spread through my chest. I couldn’t accept it. No, I wouldn’t accept it. How dare he decide that? That wasn’t his choice to make. Not after everything.

I knew he was in shock, so I told him to rest. He tried to argue, but I refused to listen. When I saw the look of defeat on his face, I gave a faint smile, knowing he couldn’t push back any longer. Once he was no longer in sight, I drove away.

By the time I reached my hotel suite, I threw myself onto the bed, phone in hand. I stared at his number glowing on the screen, then pressed it to my chest as if that could keep him close.

Tonight, my thoughts were nothing but him.