The sliding glass door opened with a heavy shhhhk, breaking the quiet stasis of the living room. Cold night air swirled in, mixing with the lingering warmth of the stew, as the two men stepped back inside.
From where she sat beside Jaemin at the table, Seo Soomin rose. "Yeobo?"
Her husband nodded at her. He looked different. The rigidity that had defined his posture since his arrival had softened into a weary, grim resolve. He didn't look happy, but the storm in his eyes had calmed, and he no longer looked like a man on the brink of a rampage.
"We should head out," he announced, checking his watch. "Whatever traffic there is, we don't want to miss the flight. Is everyone ready?"
The twins, who had been cleaning the house and rearranging things to their original positions, nodded. The family's luggage stood ready and waiting at the door.
"Good. I'll call a taxi."
"No need, Abeonim," Do-hyun said immediately, stepping forward to pick up the heaviest suitcase. "I'll drive you."
"It's late," Seo Taejun protested. "You've done enough."
"Please," Do-hyun insisted, but leaving no room for argument. "I want to make sure you all get there safely. And Jaemin would get to spend a little more time with all of you."
Jaemin watched him, a lump forming in his throat. Despite his mother's words, he couldn't help but feel a foreboding sense of finality in his family's pending departure.
…
The drive to the airport was smooth but heavy with silence. The twins dozed in the back, Jina's head on Junho's shoulder, exhausted by the emotional whiplash of the day. Seo Soomin held Jaemin's hand tightly in her own, murmuring comfort and motherly reminders. In the front passenger seat, Jaemin's father watched the city recede, lost in thought.
Do-hyun drove with his usual steady precision, his eyes fixed on the road, his cedar scent contained and neutral. To Jaemin, he was every bit the perfect chauffeur, the perfect protector, the perfect stranger.
At the departures drop-off, the cold neon lights of the airport washed over them. They unloaded the bags in a flurry of activity. This time, Jaemin's father held firm, waving Do-hyun away, saying he and Jaemin had had a long day, and needed their rest.
Do-hyun relented, stepping back to let the twins swarm around their older brother. They promised to send him pictures and begged him to come visit together with Do-hyun soon, choosing to remain oblivious to the bitterness in his smile.
"Take care of yourself," Seo Soomin whispered when it was her turn, hugging Jaemin so tightly his ribs creaked. She pulled back, cupping his face. "And trust yourself, Jaemin-ah. You're doing just fine."
"I will, Omma," Jaemin promised, his throat tight.
Then, Seo Taejun stepped forward. The airport bustle seemed to fade away as the older man looked at his son—really looked at him—for the first time in years.
"I was hard on you," he admitted gruffly. "I thought you were running away again. But you survived a poison that would have felled a lesser man." He placed a heavy hand on Jaemin's shoulder. "You stood back up. You always do. Don't let anyone knock you down again."
Tears pricked Jaemin's eyes. It was the validation he had craved for over a decade, handed to him under the stark lights of the domestic terminal.
Seo Taejun then turned to Do-hyun. He didn't say a word, simply offered a single, firm nod—a silent compact between protectors.
Do-hyun bowed deep. "Travel safely, Abeonim."
With a final wave, the Seo family disappeared through the sliding glass doors.
Jaemin stood on the curb for a moment, watching them go. Then, he turned to the car. Do-hyun was already waiting, holding the passenger door open for him.
…
The journey back to the city was agonizing. Without the buffer of his family, the silence in the car became suffocating. It mirrored the drive from a few weeks ago—the same hum of the engine, the same distance between them—but the weight of the unspoken things between them made the air thick.
Jaemin sat with his hands clenched in his lap. He stole a glance at Do-hyun. The alpha's profile was sharp, his jaw set. He looked exhausted, the mask of the perfect partner finally slipping to reveal the fatigue underneath.
He's going to drop me off, Jaemin thought, panic rising in his chest. He's going to pull up to my apartment, make sure I'm locked in safely, and then he's going to drive away… because his job is done.
As he'd predicted, when Do-hyun pulled up to the curb in front of Jaemin's building, he didn't cut the engine. The car idled, the vibration humming through the seats.
"I should go," he said quietly, staring straight ahead through the windshield. "I'll check in with Manager Park in the morning, brief the lawyers on what happened. But you should try to get some sleep."
It was exactly as Jaemin feared. The duty was discharged. The shift was over.
"Do-hyun," he whispered.
Do-hyun didn't budge. "Go inside, Jaemin."
"You knew," Jaemin said. The words tumbled out of him, fueled by the terror of the engine's hum and the desperate need to know. "Dr. Lee said you knew. Weeks ago. You knew we were fated."
The hands on the steering wheel tightened. "I did."
"And you didn't bond me."
Do-hyun flinched, his head bowing low over the wheel. "Jaemin, please. Not tonight. You need your rest."
"Why?" Jaemin demanded. "If you knew it could overwrite the bond… If you knew it could free me… why didn't you claim me?"
The question that had been burning a hole in his gut finally tore free.
"Was it because... Was it because I'm broken? Because I'm an omega who's already been marked by someone else?"
Do-hyun spun to him then, his eyes wide with shock in the dim light of the dashboard. "What?"
"I know I'm a mess," Jaemin cried, the tears finally spilling over. "I know I come with baggage, and you've been suffering because of it. I know I'm not the mate you would have chosen if this... if biology hadn't forced your hand. But you don't have to pretend anymore, Do-hyun. They're gone."
Do-hyun stared at him, his mouth slightly open, uncomprehending as if Jaemin had just spoken in a foreign language. The cedar scent in the car spiked, confusing and turbulent, filling the small space.
"Is that what you think?" he finally asked, his voice shaking. "You think I didn't bond you because I didn't want you?"
"Why else?" Jaemin choked out. "You behaved so perfectly in front of my parents, but you won't even look at me now!"
He took a shaky breath.
"If you're only staying because you think it's your duty to stick with me, even though I'm damaged, just because we're fated… I don't want you to be with me out of pity!"
"Pity?" Do-hyun rasped.
He turned away, running a trembling hand through his hair.
"Pity? You don't know how much I wanted—I was holding myself back because I knew your past, and I didn't think you were ready. I didn't—" The knuckles on his balled fists went white. "I didn't want to be another alpha forcing something on you that you didn't ask for. I wanted you to choose me because you loved me, not because some doctor told you that you had to."
He swallowed hard, and when he spoke again, his voice shook.
"But I was wrong. I thought I was honoring your freedom, but I just left you defenseless. I'm the one who failed you, Jaemin.
"I swore I would protect you, but I couldn't stop the poison. Couldn't stop the command. Couldn't stop you collapsing onstage at the Gala, or yesterday."
His voice pinched, trembling.
"I've been completely useless as your mate, and I… I don't know what to do."