(Woo-jin POV)
The apartment feels different now. Too big. Too quiet. Every corner echoes the absence of him, every shadow reminds me of what I lost. I sit on the edge of the bed, knees pulled to my chest, hands trembling as if holding myself together is a physical struggle.
The next day, I went to the court for the divorce. I could see the deathly cold stare Dae-hyun shot at me.
"Why do you even like me?" Echoed in my head
The papers are gone. Signed, finalized. Divorce. That single word sits in my mind like a jagged stone lodged in my chest. I let out a shaky breath, the kind that rattles in my chest and doesn't seem to leave.
"I… really did it," I whisper, voice barely audible, cracking as the weight of it presses down. "I… I let him go."
And yet… despite every harsh word, every betrayal, every tear I shed while hoping he'd care… I can't stop thinking about him. I still love him. Every memory, every fleeting smile, every touch that was never enough—it all pulls at me, tighter and tighter, until my chest feels like it's going to split.
I hug myself, rocking slightly, remembering the moments I tried to reach him. The times I needed him to hold me, and he was… cold. Cruel, even. Distant. Never the warmth I craved.
Even now, with the divorce final, I replay it all in my mind. His indifference. His sharp words. The times he saved me but never truly saw me. And I realize… he never loved me. Not truly. Not even when his memory was gone, even when I hoped he could start fresh.
A sob escapes me, wracking my body, and I bury my face in my hands. "I still… love you," I whisper, voice raw, broken. "Even now… I still love you, Dae-hyun."
I let the silence stretch, feeling it press against me, suffocating and endless. The apartment is empty, but it isn't just the physical space. It's the hollow place in my chest, the echo of a love that was never returned, the grief that will linger far longer than the memory of his face.
I stand slowly, knees weak, legs trembling. I move to the window, staring at the city below, lights blurring through tears. The night is cold, and I let it press against my skin, a reminder that life continues—even when your heart is broken.
"I loved you," I whisper into the wind, and I know the words will never reach him. But I needed to say them. Needed to let the truth exist somewhere, even if only in me.
And for now… that is all I have.
But.
I can't stop thinking about him. About every moment that brought me here, to this hollow, aching place. My chest tightens, and I hug myself tighter, shivering—not from cold, but from everything I endured.
The alley comes back first. Saebri's smirk, the way his hands grabbed me, the panic that froze me. And Dae-hyun… he appeared sharp and dangerous, but not gentle. He saved me, yes, but he didn't comfort me. He didn't hold me when the fear shook me to my core. He only stood there, cold, distant, his words clipped and cruel.
He somehow protected me and hugged me in the end.
I remember the library, the quiet moments when I thought maybe… maybe he cared. He sat near me, watched me, and sometimes smiled. Those were fleeting, fragile moments that I clung to like life rafts. But even then, I realize now—they were always brief. He never stayed. He never truly reached for me. It was never love. Only tolerance. Pity. Sympathy.
And it stings. Every single memory. The times I trembled in front of him, crying silently, hoping he would notice. Hoping he would hold me. Hoping he would care enough to let me feel safe. And he never did.
Even when he defended me, even when he was near, there was always this distance—this cold barrier I could never cross. I thought maybe if I tried harder, if I showed my fear, my vulnerability, he would see me. But he never did. Not really.
I close my eyes, letting the memories wash over me. The nights of trembling, the words that cut me instead of comforted me, the small gestures I misread as warmth. And I realize… I can't blame anyone but myself for believing in something that was never there.
I shake my head, trying to push it all away, but it clings. Like a shadow I can't escape. The past follows me, latching onto my chest, squeezing, reminding me of what I lost. Not just the divorce… but the love I gave him, and the love I never received in return.
And even now, even after leaving, I still feel it. The ache. The longing. The quiet, persistent heartbeat of someone I'll never have, someone who never wanted me back.
I hug myself tighter, shivering, and whisper into the empty room, "I… still loved you, Dae-hyun. Even after all this… I still loved you."
And the truth is, it hurts more than anything else—the knowledge that my love, my vulnerability, my heart… it was never his to hold.
This silence is suffocating me that I bet the noise of the refrigerator, which I had once ignored, now sounds like it's mocking me—reminding me that I am utterly alone. I sit on the edge of the bed, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them, rocking slightly. The world feels hollow, and I wonder how I am supposed to breathe in this emptiness.
I keep thinking about him—Dae-hyun. Every sharp word, every cold glance, every fleeting moment I thought was warmth. I loved him. I still do. And it hurts more than any wound could, more than any punch, more than any slap life has thrown at me.
"I… I still love you," I whisper, voice raw, trembling. "Even now… after everything. Even after I left you."
My hands clutch at my chest as if I can hold the ache in place. Every memory I thought I had buried comes flooding back—the alley, Saebri, the way Dae-hyun stood there, sharp and dangerous, yet not gentle when I needed comfort. Every time I needed him to reach for me, to hold me, to show me I mattered—he never did.
I hug myself tighter, shivering violently. The memories are not just of cruelty—they are of hope, too. Tiny, fragile moments I mistook for care. A smile that lingered too briefly, a hand that brushed mine but didn't stay, a glance that almost—but not quite—held warmth. I had clung to them, starved for love, hoping it meant something real.
But it didn't.
Even when his memories were gone, even when the past was wiped clean, his actions, his eyes, his words—they never carried love. They were sharp, distant, and indifferent. Pity, perhaps. Obligation, maybe. But never love.
I close my eyes and let the tears come freely this time. Hot, messy tears that burn down my cheeks. They taste like grief and heartbreak, like everything I wished for and never received.
"I loved you," I murmure to the empty room, letting my words hang in the air. "I still… do. Even now."
The quiet presses in. The silence wraps around me like a suffocating blanket, and yet, amidst it all, I feel a strange clarity. I need to survive. I need to move forward. Even if he never loved me, even if I must carry this ache in my chest forever, I have to keep living.
I rise slowly, legs weak and trembling, and move to the window. The city lights stretch endlessly below me, blurred through my tears. I can feel the wind pressing against my face, cool and sharp, reminding me that the world moves on—even when I am frozen in pain.
I press my forehead to the glass, letting the cold seep into me, grounding me. "I can't go back," I whisper. "I can't undo what's done. But… I'll keep moving. I'll survive. I have to."
And then… a memory slips through, delicate and fragile, like glass teetering on the edge of a shelf.
I see myself, younger, trembling, pressed against the wall in that narrow street. The wind bites my cheeks, my fingers clutch my jacket tightly, trying to hold onto any semblance of warmth or safety. Saebri's shadow looms over me, sharp and terrifying, and I feel a cold panic squeezing my chest.
And Dae-hyun. He appears, his presence sharp and commanding, but not comforting. He saved me physically, yes—but emotionally? But memory hover just beyond reach. I almost want to dive in, to relive it all, to understand it fully—but I stop myself. It is fragile. Dangerous. I'm not ready yet.
I take a shaky breath, pressing my hands to my face, and whisper to the empty room, almost to the memory itself, "Maybe… one day… he'll remember everything."
The memory lingers, delicate as a wisp of smoke, and I know, deep down, that the past isn't done with me. That it will pull me back eventually, force me to face every scar, every tear, every heartbeat I gave him and never got in return.
For now, I sit in the quiet, letting the grief wash over me, holding onto the ache as both punishment and proof that I truly loved.
I remember when I first met Dae-hyun.