"Wha–what are you doing? Why are you so close?" I stammered, my breath catching in my throat.
Yiran was standing right in front of me — close enough that I could see the tiny flecks of gold hidden in his dark brown eyes. For a second, I forgot to breathe.
Then he grabbed my hands. Firmly. Desperately.
"Do you love him?"
His question hit me like a slap.
"What?" I blinked. "Why are you even asking that? Aren't you married?"
The silence between us thickened. My pulse raced, every muscle in my body tensing. I snatched my hands away as if his touch burned.
"Do you love her?" I fired back, my voice trembling with anger and something else I didn't want to name.
I stood up quickly. I searched frantically for my bag — I needed to get out of here. This place used to feel like home, but now… it suffocated me.
Before I could reach the door, I felt his arms wrap around me.
From behind, he held me tightly — like he was afraid that if he let go, I'd vanish forever.
"I don't," he whispered against my hair. "It's just a fake marriage."
I froze.
"What?" I turned around, eyes wide. "What did you just say?"
His face was a mess of exhaustion and regret. "I was forced to marry her, but—"
"I don't want to hear it!" I snapped, cutting him off.
He flinched. "What? You need my explanation—"
"I needed those explanations before I learned through the internet that my boyfriend of ten years got engaged to another woman!" My voice cracked at the end, anger dissolving into pain. "Now your words are just words, Yiran. Empty and useless."
I spotted my bag lying on his desk, half-open. I grabbed it with shaking hands and headed straight for the door.
He followed.
When I tried to open it, his hand slammed against the wood, pushing it shut again.
"Move," I said coldly.
He didn't.
"I didn't know about the engagement," he said quickly. "I swear. I found out through the news, just like you."
"Don't lie to me," I hissed, turning toward him. "You expect me to believe that?"
His voice softened, almost breaking. "I just—" He stopped mid-sentence, biting his lip like he always did when emotions got too heavy. He could never finish. Never face the depth of what he felt.
"Don't marry my brother," he said finally. "You don't know him, Hua. He's not someone you can trust."
His words pierced through me like glass.
For a second, I wanted to crumble.
Because a part of me still wanted to believe him — to throw everything away and run back into his arms like I used to. To pretend none of this ever happened, that the world wasn't so cruel.
But if he really loved me, he would've fought for me. He would've chosen me before it was too late.
So I looked him in the eye and said, quietly, "Are you someone I can trust?"
A single tear slid down my cheek before I could stop it.
He didn't answer.
I didn't wait for him to. I turned the handle and walked out, slamming the door behind me.
By the time I reached the lobby, my legs were shaking. I pressed my back against the cold wall, trying to catch my breath. The night outside was pitch black — the kind of silence that makes you feel small and unwanted.
I stumbled out of the building, the cold air biting my skin, and finally collapsed near the curb.
My knees hit the ground, and I just… broke.
Tears I'd been holding back for too long came rushing out all at once. The sound of my own sobs filled the empty street, raw and ugly.
I didn't care anymore.
It was perfect, in a cruel way — crying alone at 3 a.m. where no one could see me fall apart.
Until the lights came.
A pair of blinding headlights cut through the dark, stopping just a few meters away.
I squinted, trying to see, but all I could make out was a tall silhouette stepping out of the car.
The man walked toward me slowly, his figure framed by the halo of light behind him.
My heartbeat quickened.
Who was that?
"...Hua?"
His voice was deep. Calm. Familiar.
No way.
It was him.
Yichen.
"Are you out of your mind?" he said, kneeling in front of me, his voice sharp but low. His brows furrowed, and his usual cold mask cracked just enough to reveal something that looked dangerously close to concern.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, my words slurred by tears.
"I should be asking you that." He sighed and looked around the empty street. "It's the middle of the night. You're crying on the ground like—"
"Don't," I warned, glaring at him through watery eyes.
He didn't finish his sentence. Instead, he reached out and handed me a small pack of tissues.
"I was just... passing by," he muttered.
"Passing by my ex's apartment building?" I shot back.
He raised an eyebrow. "I just missed my brother."
I scoffed. "Sure."
He stood up straight, towering over me, his shadow swallowing mine under the streetlight. "Get up. It's cold."
"I'm fine here."
"You're not."
"Yichen—"
"Hua."
The way he said my name — low, deliberate — sent a shiver down my spine.
"Fine," I murmured, standing up reluctantly. My legs trembled, and he instinctively reached to steady me, but I swatted his hand away.
"I can walk on my own."
He didn't argue. He just turned and started walking toward his car, expecting me to follow.
And somehow, I did.
Inside the car, the silence was unbearable. The air smelled faintly of expensive leather and his cologne — crisp, clean, annoyingly perfect.
"You should stop crying over him," he said finally, eyes fixed on the road ahead.
I tensed. "Excuse me?"
"You think I don't know what happened? My brother doesn't deserve your tears."
I wanted to yell at him, to tell him to mind his own business. But I didn't have the energy.
Instead, I just turned toward the window, watching the empty city rush by.
"what do you know about heartbreak?" I muttered.
He glanced at me briefly and smiled. "Right. I'm just a robot."
I blinked, caught off guard. "That's not what I— "
I sighed, sinking into the seat. "Can we just… not talk about him?"
He didn't reply. But the muscle in his jaw twitched, and his grip on the steering wheel tightened just enough for the leather to creak.
After a long pause, he parked in front of my building again.
"I'll walk you up," he said.
"No need."
"It wasn't a question."
I sighed, too tired to fight. We went up in silence.
At my door, I turned to him. "Why are you really here?"
He met my gaze — cold, unreadable. Then, after a long moment, he said, "Because you're my responsibility now."
"Responsibility?" I repeated, my heart sinking.
He nodded once, then handed me a folded paper — thick, official-looking.
"What's this?"
"Our marriage registration," he said simply. "You forgot to stamp it. Without it, the contract isn't valid."
I stared at the paper, stunned.
"You're unbelievable," I muttered, shaking my head.
"I told you," he replied, his tone as calm as ever. "I don't do things halfway."
And before I could say anything else, he turned around and walked away.
Leaving me there, holding the paper that tied me to him — the man who made my life a chaos of fake promises, cold words, and inconvenient heartbeats.
But as I closed my door, I couldn't stop my mind from replaying what Yiran had said.
"Don't marry my brother. He's not someone you can trust."
And yet...
That same brother had just saved me from breaking entirely.
That same brother had found me crying alone in the dark and brought me home.
Was that really someone I couldn't trust?
I didn't know anymore.
I pressed my hand against the paper in my pocket — the marriage registration, still unsigned — and whispered to myself, "What have I gotten myself into?"
Then, from the window, I saw him.
Yichen.
Still standing outside his car, looking up. At me.
Our eyes met for one brief, silent moment before he finally got in his car and drove away.
And somehow, I knew this was only the beginning of something that would destroy me… or save me.