BO - 2

02. Meeting a Man at the Hotel

“Nurse, please get a panoramic scan for patient Lee Young-jin.”

“Yes, doctor. Oh, Dr. Seo, the director asked you to stop by his office after your last patient.”

“Alright.”

Feeling stiff, I rolled my neck from side to side and glanced at the clock mounted on the wall of the dental clinic. With the end of my shift approaching, my back was beginning to ache. Only two patients remained—a Chinese exchange student scheduled for a wisdom tooth extraction and a middle schooler here for a root canal treatment.

My uncle had urged me to open my own clinic, but I wasn’t ready for such a big step yet.

The temptation to drop everything and flee overseas still lingered within me, restless yet unformed.

I knew it was cowardly. So what? Who was there to point fingers at me and call me a disgrace?

Running away wouldn’t inconvenience anyone. It was merely a choice that made me ashamed of myself. Two years ago, my friend Yu-kyung, who was unaware of the wounds I carried, told me I was being ungrateful. After all the effort and money spent on dental school, why was I now thinking of throwing it all away?

Even if what happened two years ago had never occurred, perhaps Yu-kyung’s words would still have been true.

I hadn’t been particularly set on attending dental school, but my uncle, who had raised me with unwavering support, never spared any effort to help me. Thanks to him, I never had to worry about money or housing, allowing me to focus solely on my studies. Somehow, I got into dental school, and things worked out well enough that I completed the program straight through, without taking a single leave of absence.

Living that way left me unsure of what I truly wanted to do. I lacked motivation, had no clear vision for the future, and, above all, questioned whether this path was really meant for me.

So, the idea of opening my own clinic and taking on the title of director felt too heavy with responsibility.

Some might scoff—what kind of responsibility comes with just looking at teeth? But to me, even the tiniest decision felt as weighty as a mountain.

If only I hadn’t gone to that place that day.

If only I hadn’t turned around when I heard my name being called.

I kept feeling like I had to blame myself for the reason I got stabbed that day.

Because if I didn’t, my resentment would inevitably turn toward my uncle, who had pulled me into this world. And ultimately, I might even end up blaming my own mother for bringing me into existence.

In a world where the only thing I had control over was choosing my own cup of coffee, the best option left was to run away.

I took off my lab coat, steeped in the sharp scent of disinfectant, and knocked on the director’s office door.

A voice granted permission from inside, and I stepped in without hesitation.

The wood-toned office was as calm as its owner. He looked about my age, yet he was four years older than me. Contrary to his appearance, he was surprisingly composed and kind. It had only been three days since I started working here, but my impression of the director in that short time was just that.

As I sat in the chair across from his desk, my eyes caught the neatly written nameplate: Director Jung Seok-woo.

Seeing two cups of coffee prepared, I assumed one was for me.

“How are you adjusting? Getting used to things?”

“It’s only been three days. Still too soon to say.”

“Even so, I’m just checking in. It’s my responsibility as the director, after all.”

I understood what he meant—not that I was a concern to him personally, but that, as the director, he was naturally obligated to care.

Taking a sip of coffee, I nodded.

“I understand.”

Wait, was that too presumptuous of me?

As I hurriedly reevaluated my words, he simply smiled and nodded, as if thanking me for understanding.

“I heard there was a patient earlier who yelled at the nurse.”

“It’s fine. There seemed to be some misunderstanding, but it was resolved smoothly.”

“I see.”

He hummed softly, his expression momentarily thoughtful, as if debating whether to say something more.

Was there something else?

As I absentmindedly fiddled with my fingers and stared at my coffee cup, he suddenly seemed to remember something and spoke up.

“The staff are going out for drinks tonight. You’re coming, right?”

“It’s your welcome dinner, Dr. Seo. I have a seminar in the morning, so we’re keeping it simple—just dinner.”

Hearing that, I couldn’t bring myself to flatly refuse, even though I was exhausted and just wanted to go home. If I declined, I’d come off as rude—someone who ignored a welcome event organized just for them.

Social life was hard. Probably an eternal struggle.

Smiling in agreement, I sipped my steaming coffee, only to find myself meeting Seok-woo’s gaze.

He smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Feeling awkward, I buried my lips deeper into my cup.

I stole a glance at the two men sitting at the table across from me.

Between them was a grill, but only one of them was actively cooking and eating. It was obvious who the designated driver was.

Checking his watch briefly, Choi Si-baek hadn’t touched his food or even taken a sip of alcohol.

Meanwhile, the buzz-cut man sitting across from him was downing drink after drink.

From what I gathered, their roles seemed reversed—especially since Si-baek was being addressed as “hyung” by the other guy.

As I kept glancing in their direction, trivial conversations swirled around me like appetizers.

“How can you even go to a public restroom these days? It’s terrifying with all the hidden cameras. Women really have it tough.”

“Oh, right, Yoon-jin, did you finally dump that trash boyfriend of yours?”

“Yes. I don’t know if I should call it lucky, but I managed to break up safely.”

The sound of liquor being poured and sipped accompanied the usual gossip that filled drinking parties. Whether it was a high school reunion or a welcome dinner, the topics of conversation rarely strayed from the norm.

Not just the director and the nurses, but even the specialists from prosthodontics, periodontics, and oral surgery were all gathered around.

They must have worked together for a long time, judging by how comfortably they shared details of their personal lives.

Right up to the boundary where things didn’t become too excessive—though even that boundary felt burdensome to me.

I preferred to keep work and personal life strictly separate.

“So, Dr. Seo, do you really not have a boyfriend? I was honestly shocked when I first saw you. You’re not even a celebrity, but—wait, can I say this?—you’re crazy pretty. I’ve never seen a face like yours in real life.”

Why were people always so obsessed with whether someone had a partner or not?

I don’t care whether someone has a lover or not. But if I were to admit it, they’d dig into it as if they were ready to count every single hair in that man’s asshole. They don’t say it out loud, but their eyes are burning with curiosity. He wasn’t unaware of it either. Humans are naturally obsessed with gossip about others. I don’t completely fail to understand that, but that doesn’t mean I can just laugh it off and let my story flow freely—there’s a boundary.

A friend I met at a reunion once told me that our department head had asked if she had a boyfriend. She said no, and a few days later, she found herself on a blind date with the department head’s son. Since the nurse sitting in front of me isn’t much older than me, that probably won’t happen, but I still couldn’t read that question with good intentions.

Honestly, this is what’s wrong with Korea. People don’t think prying into someone’s personal life is rude.

I’ve only lived in the U.S. for two years, and I’ve already turned into such a boomer.

“Yes, I don’t have one. I don’t even have the time. My mind is occupied with other things.”

“Well, these days, more people don’t date because they’re too busy working. But if I were you, I wouldn’t have taken a break from dating. I envy you.”

“I don’t really have any thoughts about it for now. Right now, adjusting to my new job comes first.”

I accepted the drink the nurse handed me, nodding lightly out of courtesy. The director, who had been silently receiving drinks all night, quietly pushed a piece of carrot toward me. He must have noticed me picking up carrots from the side dishes earlier.

His sleeve brushed against my wrist for a brief moment before pulling away. I could still feel the gaze from the opposite table, watching us intently.

“Maybe we asked something too personal. Sorry, Dr. Seo. I just wanted to get to know you better.”

Isn’t it still rude to ask about someone’s private life just because you want to get close to them? That’s what I thought, but all I could do was smile. A newly hired rookie struggling to adjust has no power. The only responses I could give were either “Yes, yes” or “It’s fine.” It was frustrating. But frustration is the fate of all newcomers.

“If anything makes you uncomfortable, don’t hesitate to tell me or any of the doctors here. We understand.”

“Yes, Director.”

Seok-woo lifted his soju glass, gently clinking it against mine before downing the drink in one go. I, on the other hand, struggled to swallow even one shot, my stomach still unsettled from drinking the night before. I grimaced, feeling the bitter alcohol burn its way down, my lips stretching as if I’d eaten something spicy. Hurriedly, I popped another piece of carrot into my mouth and chewed, which made Seok-woo, who had been quietly watching me, chuckle.

He looks so proper, yet he’s snickering at me. The way the director had been smirking at me all night was getting on my nerves, but that was something I couldn’t say out loud. Not unless I had a death wish.

“Could we get some more carrots here?”

Seok-woo called out to a passing server and poured me another drink, but I only lightly wet my lips instead of taking another sip.

“But Dr. Seo, why aren’t you eating much? If you wanted something else, you should’ve said so.”

He tilted his eyebrows up and then down, his voice tinged with concern as he took another sip of soju.

Honestly, I’ve never been a huge fan of meat. It’s not that I’m vegetarian or anything—it’s just that my body handles vegetables better than meat. But I didn’t want to be the one to suggest a different place when everyone had decided to go to a barbecue restaurant. I had eaten a few pieces in silence before stopping, and the director, ever observant, had picked up on that.

“My stomach’s just a little off today.”

That was something I could tell them once we got closer and I felt more comfortable. I didn’t want to bring it up now and ruin the mood.

As I sipped my water, I accidentally locked eyes with Choi Si-baek, who was sitting at the opposite table. What kind of guy sits in a barbecue restaurant with his legs crossed like that? His chopsticks remained untouched, and a cigarette pack and lighter were neatly placed on the table in front of him. He was the first to break eye contact, turning his attention to the man speaking to him.

Tapping his shoe against the floor, he gave a slight nod and stretched out his wrist, glancing at the watch hidden under his crisp white shirt before looking back at me.

It almost felt like he was urging me to wrap things up and leave. And he kept glancing at Seok-woo, who was sitting beside me, as if he had a problem with him. With his naturally sharp expression, he looked downright pissed off.

What, is he annoyed because my late dinner is delaying his schedule? Because he needs to drive me home before heading back to work?

I could feel his stare burning a hole in me, making it impossible to relax.

And now, is he glaring at the director too? What the hell is his problem?

A newbie who had only been here for three days couldn’t possibly ask to leave early. My head throbbed.

It was almost funny. During the day, I spent my time staring into people’s mouths, claiming to treat them, but once the sun went down, I was just as weak and vulnerable as a pair of gums, kept under constant surveillance under the guise of protection. The contradiction was ridiculous.

Crunch. Another piece of carrot disappeared between my teeth.

Five more servings of meat hit the grill before the dinner finally ended.

As with all work gatherings, people started floating the idea of heading to a second round. But probably because they were mindful of the director’s seminar schedule, no one pushed too hard. Thankfully, there wasn’t any loudmouth insisting, “Let’s keep drinking, just us without the boss!”

Kim, who had been dragging her feet while packing up, suddenly realized her phone was missing, causing a brief commotion. Taking the opportunity, I slipped out first under the pretense of needing fresh air. I had no interest in getting involved. Standing by the entrance, I idly kicked at the uneven asphalt, then glanced at the large black sedan parked on the edge of the food alley. It blended into the night, but I knew.

I knew Choi Si-baek was waiting for me inside.

He hadn’t eaten a single bite of meat earlier—why wasn’t he eating at this hour? There was no hidden agenda behind the thought, but a dangerous curiosity was starting to creep in.

The beginning of wanting to know trivial details. I knew it wasn’t all that complicated.

That thing that is both an unbearable heatwave and an inescapable cold snap for everyone. The thing that takes on the most complicated forms yet remains the clearest in shape.

The reason my gaze kept tilting toward Choi Si-baek—it was probably because of that.

“Where do you live? If we’re headed the same way, we can share a ride. You’re taking a taxi, right?”

Seok-woo approached, tucking his wallet into his back pocket after settling the bill. The other doctors, having just stepped outside, inhaled the cool night air in unison. Groups naturally began forming as people split off in the same direction. I glanced at the car’s headlights flickering in the dark, then turned my attention to Seok-woo standing beside me. What was he saying again?

“Oh, I, um.”

I hesitated, stealing another glance over his shoulder.

By then, Choi Si-baek had already stepped out of the driver’s seat, standing at a slight angle, watching.

As if urging me to hurry up and get in, he changed the way he crossed his arms. Unaware that Choi Si-baek and I were exchanging complicated glances, Jung Seok-woo added a knowing exclamation, as if he had just remembered something.

“Was it Songhwa-dong? I think I saw it on your resume.”

“Oh, yes.”

“We’re headed in the same direction. That’s great. Let’s share a taxi.”

Choi Si-baek, who was still waiting to take me home, remained standing there, his gaze fixed on me. It would seem strange to say that I could go alone despite us heading in the same direction. Telling him to go first because I wanted to be alone would be even weirder—especially to my director. After all, I had just started my new job, and I didn’t want to get on anyone’s bad side on the first day of a company dinner.

Making up an excuse about having another appointment at this hour would be too obvious—I might as well just say outright that I didn’t want to go with him. The streets were packed with people wrapping up their nights, the atmosphere unmistakably signaling the end of the day.

Caught off guard and unable to come up with a convincing excuse, my mind went blank.

Jung Seok-woo gave me a questioning look, as if wondering what I was doing. In the end, I hesitated for a moment before following him.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t suddenly grab my arm and drag me away like Kim Jong-seop had done before, spitting out nonsense like, “You made me run around like crazy because of you, and now you’re trying to run away?”—the kind of thing that could destroy my professional life in an instant.

I felt sweat pooling along my spine from the sheer tension, but I sensed no movement behind me from Choi Si-baek. If it had been Kim Jong-seop, he would have grabbed my limbs, dragged me away, and stuffed me into the taxi like a piece of pickled radish in a lunchbox. Even in that brief moment, a terrifying thought crossed my mind.

Either way, it was uncomfortable. The only difference was whether the discomfort was internal or whether I was humiliated in front of everyone. There was no real choice—neither option was any better.

Even if he wasn’t grabbing and dragging me away like that lunatic Kim Jong-seop, the feeling of something rough scraping against my insides was the same. Like swallowing gravel that wouldn’t digest, it lodged itself in my heart, tormenting me with every step I took.

Jung Seok-woo hailed a taxi and opened the door, waiting for me to get in first.

It seemed I had no choice but to ride with him all the way to my neighborhood. I disliked giving out my exact address, so I just mentioned a nearby location and quickly told the driver. As soon as the taxi started moving, I leaned back against the seat, exhaling a breath tinged with alcohol.

“I noticed earlier that you barely ate. Do you not like pork? Or… Dr. Seo?”

“...Oh, um, yeah.”

Even as I leaned back against the seat, I kept glancing toward the window, distracted by a car trailing behind us.

If Kim Jong-seop had just openly caused a scene, at least I could have confronted him. But having someone follow me quietly like this felt even worse.

For the past month—whether I was rushing between job interviews in Korea, meeting my uncle’s hand-picked candidates for a potential husband in hotel cafés, or chatting late into the night with Yoo Kyung-il—no matter what I did or where I went, Choi Si-baek’s car was always my ride home.

Once the sun went down, my return home, for whatever reason, became Choi Si-baek’s responsibility.

Ensuring my safety was likely the main reason, but I had also tacitly accepted this routine for over a month. So, slipping into a taxi without telling him left a nagging feeling in my gut. All things considered, it might have been better to just go alone.

“Is there something outside? You’ve been looking out the window for a while.”

Seok-woo leaned toward me, pretending to check the view outside, before turning back with a soft smile.

“It’s just… I feel a little stuffy. Um, could you drop me off here?”

I asked the driver to pull over by the road leading to my apartment complex. The complex wasn’t in sight yet, so Seok-woo gave me a curious look.

“It’s right ahead. I figured I’d walk the rest of the way to sober up.”

I answered an unasked question as I hurriedly hopped out of the taxi.

“Sir, one moment.”

Seok-woo stopped the driver and turned to me with a warm, gentle smile. The slight gap in the open window made his face even clearer. It was a smile unfazed by the cool night air. He greeted me with a friendliness that transcended seasons.

In a world where horrible bosses were everywhere, I guess I had lucked out with this job.

They say a smile is the strongest weapon a person can have, and this man possessed a deadly charm that could disarm anyone.

But why did Choi Si-baek suddenly come to mind?

If Choi Si-baek was like the clash of summer and winter, then Jung Seok-woo was a blend of spring and autumn. They were so different that the contrast between them made me think of both at the same time.

“See you next week. Get home safe, Dr. Seo.”

“Yes, Director. Thank you for today.”

I gave Seok-woo a polite smile, glancing at the black sedan that had followed us. My smile was as bright as I could make it—hoping he would take the hint and leave without worrying about me.

As the traffic light changed to green, the taxi sped away, leaving me feeling strangely drained.

The black sedan, parked at an angle on the shoulder, suddenly seemed rougher, harsher.

The driver’s door swung open, and Choi Si-baek stepped out, stretching his long legs before striding toward me. The way the door shut behind him—with a sharp, decisive clack—made it seem as if it could shatter at any moment. Knowing him, he probably could if he wanted to.

I stared at the exposed wrist beneath his rolled-up shirt sleeves before finally lifting my gaze to meet his.

His face was filled with unmistakable anger. No, he wasn’t just annoyed—he was absolutely pissed. His eyes, burning with frustration, were filled with barely concealed reproach.

I could read the anger in his gaze, but as for what else was hidden within—I wasn’t quick enough to process that. When it came to work and social life, I was always a step behind him.

So that’s why.

“He offered, so I accepted. We were headed in the same direction. What’s the big deal?”

“If you’re headed in the same direction, does that mean you should just get in anyone’s car, Dr. Seo?”

“Not just anyone. But if it’s my hospital director, that’s a different story.”

“With boundaries this vague, no wonder people think you’re an easy target.”

“What did you just say?”

Did this bastard really just say that?

The sudden attack aside, I had no idea what he was even trying to say.

“What exactly are you trying to say?”

“Is it that hard for you to draw a line with that bastard?”

Seriously? He followed me all the way here without saying a word, and now this? Well, I suppose I should be grateful that he wasn’t dragging me away like Kim Jong-seop. Having the worst possible comparison right next to me made it feel like this man’s words and actions were somehow being diluted. Not that Choi Si-baek was particularly gentle either.

If Kim Jong-seop acted on impulse and let his emotions dictate everything, Choi Si-baek gave people one chance, then another, and maybe even a third out of generosity. But beyond that? There was no mercy.

He was a man with a level of destruction even Kim Jong-seop wouldn’t be able to handle. That’s what made him so difficult. Choi Si-baek was never easy for me to deal with.

“You can’t even do that with that Director Cha Kwon-seok you serve, can you? Well, same here. I have a boss too.”

I knew he was upset that I took a taxi without telling him. But I hadn’t bothered to explain myself because I thought—no, I assumed—he would understand. I had a professional life, too. I couldn’t just do whatever I wanted all the time.

I didn’t expect a gangster like him to fully sympathize with my circumstances, but I hoped he’d at least acknowledge that I had my own reasons.

At my response, he bit down hard on his lower lip, then exhaled sharply, letting it go like he was forcibly swallowing his anger.

I decided to pacify him before things got worse. There was no point in aggravating him any further.

“My head hurts.”

I feigned dizziness from my hangover and glanced at him cautiously.

He wasn’t the type of man who would fail to pick up on my unspoken plea to drop the subject.

“Of course, it does.”

The man, who had been resting his left hand on his hip, straightened up. He had more to say—I could see it in his face—but he swallowed the words. His sharp edges remained.

“And my body feels heavy.”

He still looked at me like I’d done something unforgivable.

“How could it not?”

God, I can’t say anything without him picking it apart.

“I mean, it was my welcome party. Everyone was drinking, and it would’ve been weird if I didn’t drink at all. What was I supposed to do?”

“Right, right. Because I forced you to drink.”

“Oh my god. Just stop teasing me.”

“Fine, fine. Just get in the car.”

“Wait. Hold on. Let me go buy some hangover tea or something. I don’t think I can last until the pharmacy opens.”

He ran a hand through his hair—it looked like he had gotten a trim. The shorter strands, now unstyled, fell naturally over his forehead. When he slicked it all back, he looked so cold and intimidating, but with his hair slightly covering his brow, his expression softened just a little.

His lips, which he had been gnawing at this whole time, finally relaxed. Then he let out a deep sigh.

Before I could protest, he was already striding toward the convenience store across the street.

“Just wait in the car.”

He opened the back door for me, making sure I got inside before turning away. I hadn’t asked him to buy it for me, but all I could do was stare at his broad back as he walked off.

Now that I thought about it, it was strange seeing his back.

Choi Si-baek never walked ahead of me when he took me home. He never led the way.

He was always a step behind, orbiting around me. I was used to showing him my back, but not the other way around.

Yet here he was, opening doors for me, checking my surroundings, buying me hangover tea.

Choi Si-baek—someone who felt like he existed just for me.

It was a deep illusion, and I knew it. But I still couldn’t take my eyes off his retreating figure.

Even though I knew that kind of illusion always came with regret.

It must have been about two weeks ago.

My schedule changed unexpectedly, so I had to go up to the 27th floor where he lived.

Whenever he finished dropping me off, he usually left to take care of other business. Since I wasn’t sure if he was home, I hesitated before getting in the elevator. He didn’t pick up when I called, so I figured he was busy.

But when I stepped onto the 27th floor, I saw two black silhouettes locked in a violent struggle.

A strangled, choking sound—the kind that barely escapes a crushed windpipe—echoed through the hall. It was so raw that I felt it tightening around my own throat.

Choi Si-baek had his hands around a man’s neck, twisting it. Then, without hesitation, he pulled a knife from behind him.

There was no wasted movement. No unnecessary effort.

I was frozen. Was I shocked by him? Or was I just shocked by the situation?

I couldn’t tell.

Somehow, I forced my legs to move and stumbled back into the elevator. I rode it all the way down, but my hands were trembling so badly that I kept messing up the passcode to my apartment. The warning beep blared three times before I finally got inside.

I already knew what kind of person Choi Si-baek was.

There was nothing to be shocked about. Nothing to be afraid of.

But even now, the scar on my side was a permanent reminder of that night. Like a tattoo etched into my skin.

A mark that would haunt me for the rest of my life.

I still remembered it all too vividly.

The knife slicing into my stomach. The searing pain. The vision blurring into darkness. The sheer agony of it.

And the fear.

The absolute knowledge that if I closed my eyes, I might never open them again.

“You’re Song Won-hyung’s kid, aren’t you?”

The blade twisted inside me.

“Not his daughter, huh? Oh, right. His niece.”

“Niece, daughter, whatever. You got that bastard’s blood running through you, don’t you?”

“He took our boss’s eye, and then he hid his brat away like this? Tch.”

“Listen, if you survive this somehow, pass the message along—”

“Tell him we’ll wipe out every last trace of his blood.”

“Tell him to look forward to it.”

Fortunately or unfortunately, I survived, and I became the very bloodline they had declared they would wipe out. Again.

Even as my body sagged like a waterlogged sponge, I groaned, recalling that day.

It felt as if I were drifting aimlessly in an empty, soundless vacuum, unable to open my eyes, only managing to let out weak moans. A hand touched my cheek and then moved to my sweat-drenched forehead. The moment I became certain of the owner of the scent filling the space beside me, I didn’t hesitate to clutch his shirt tightly.

I burrowed into the deep, woody-scented fabric that I had been so determined to ignore all this time. I felt his chest flinch for a brief moment.

“Seo Jae-yeon.”

He held me tightly as I gasped for breath.

Like a gust of wind finally reaching its destination, like a buoy barely keeping afloat, I clung to him, feeling his firm embrace. Pretending to be drunk, pretending to be making a scene—if I claimed not to remember, if I blamed it on the alcohol, that would be enough.

The man who never unbuttoned his shirt in front of others merely pretended not to notice, even though he knew I was exploiting a moment of vulnerability.

“Are you okay? Look at me.”

I just shook my head violently and buried myself deeper against him. He stepped on the bottle of hangover tea that had fallen to the ground.

“You sure make a big deal when you drink.”

“……”

“Might as well spit in my face again like last time.”

“…Hangover tea. My head hurts.”

“I’ll pick it up if you let go.”

Selfishly, I didn’t want to let go.

“Don’t pick it up. Don’t open it either.”

“What the hell… Just go to sleep.”

Selfishly.

With his support, I somehow made it back home and collapsed onto my bed. The alcohol had worn off, but the headache remained. I took the painkillers he had bought along with the hangover tea at the convenience store, then curled up tightly like a cocoon. I could feel him pull the blanket over me halfway, then slip off the cardigan that was barely hanging on my shoulders, tucking the sheets up to my neck.

“…Choi Si-baek.”

“Call me properly.”

Even now, was that really the most important thing to him?

“I have plans tomorrow.”

“…I know.”

“I’m meeting a man at a hotel.”

More precisely, I was going on a blind date at the hotel café.

“…And?”

“If I like him, I’m getting a room this time. For real. I won’t back out again.”

I wasn’t sure if I was saying this for him or if I was trying to convince myself.

I still hated the idea of a blind date, hated the performance of laying out my best cards to impress a stranger. But Chairman Seong Won-hyung’s only wish was for me to meet a good man, get married, and live happily ever after.

I had to do it. I had to do it for him.

“Bullshit. Just shut up and sleep.”

This time, for real.

I could feel his gaze lingering on me for a long time before finally moving away.

Like the scent that lingered under an umbrella on a rainy day, the room that had been filled with Choi Si-baek’s presence slowly faded, leaving behind only the smell of my own alcohol.

At some point, my headache subsided. As soon as I felt a little better, drowsiness overtook me.

Like being swallowed whole by a massive wave, I was helpless against the pull of sleep.

Choi Si-baek must have left a long time ago, but I kept sensing traces of him. Maybe it was a trick of my drunken mind, but I could almost feel his presence hovering nearby, his fingers brushing against the hair on my forehead.

On any other day, I would have jolted awake, fearing an intruder in my home. But instead, I fell into a deep sleep, reassured by one undeniable truth:

There was no way Choi Si-baek would have left this place unchecked.

Because I had absolute trust in him.