Chapter 24: Loud Hearts
Jae-Hyun POV
The ballroom lights no longer shimmered. They glared.
Jae-Hyun stood beside Seo-Ah, smiling for the cameras, nodding politely at acquaintances, holding her waist like it belonged to him. But inside, something was unraveling—thread by thread.
He hadn't missed the way her hands trembled when he found her on the rooftop. He hadn't missed the shadow in her eyes when she looked at him—Min-Jun.
And worst of all, she hadn't denied anything.
Not the intimacy. Not the ache. Not the history.
Now she stood beside him, stunning in her dark blue gown, laughing at something the senator's wife said—but her smile didn't reach her eyes.
He saw it. He felt it.
When they finally returned to the car, silence swallowed the space between them. He didn't speak until the driver pulled off.
"You still love him."
Her head turned slowly toward him, face unreadable in the dim light.
"I care about you," she replied.
"That's not what I asked."
Seo-Ah's lips parted, then closed again. "Why does it matter?"
Jae-Hyun exhaled. "Because I'm not a placeholder, Seo-Ah. And I won't pretend this is something it's not."
The car rolled on through Seoul's quiet midnight streets. Her eyes went to the window, watching the world blur by.
"I'm not ready to love anyone," she finally said.
"You're already loving someone. You just don't want to admit it."
There was no anger in his voice. Just sadness.
"You're a good man, Jae-Hyun," she whispered.
"That's the problem," he replied softly. "You're not looking for good. You're looking for him—even when it hurts."
Silence.
When they reached her apartment, she turned to him, her voice quiet. "Will you still come to therapy with me next week?"
He looked at her, long and hard. "Yes," he said. "Because even if you can't give me your heart... I won't abandon you while you find it."
Then he left her at her door, not asking for anything else.
And Seo-Ah stood in the hallway, knees weak, wondering how love could feel so cruel—whether it was burning hot like Min-Jun or kind and steady like Jae-Hyun.
Because neither made her feel whole.
Not yet.
---
Min-Jun stood in front of the old warehouse alone.
His boots crunched gravel as he stepped inside. The place was mostly empty now—ghosts of his past hung in the air. Metal dust. Smoke. The faint echo of blood spilled.
"You came," a voice called from the shadows.
Min-Jun didn't flinch.
Hyun-Sik emerged—lean, sharp-eyed, sleeves rolled to his elbows like the old days. The last lieutenant left. The last threat between Min-Jun and the life he wanted back.
"This place is a tomb," Hyun-Sik said. "And you? You're the one who buried it."
Min-Jun said nothing.
"You really think she'll love you after all this?"
"I'm not here for her," Min-Jun replied, stepping closer. "I'm here to end you."
A smile curled Hyun-Sik's lips. "Still dramatic."
In one swift motion, the gun was out—pointed straight at Min-Jun.
"You should've stayed buried with the rest of the syndicate."
Min-Jun didn't blink. "You'll never touch her."
"Then die knowing you failed."
The shot rang out.
Min-Jun moved.
Steel grazed his side as he tackled Hyun-Sik, disarming him with brutal precision. They crashed to the ground—fists, blood, rage. It was vicious. Desperate. Final.
Min-Jun didn't stop until Hyun-Sik lay unconscious beneath him, blood dripping from his own brow.
He stood, chest heaving, pain flaring through his ribs.
It was done.
The past was buried.
But when he staggered outside and looked up at the sky, nothing had changed.
He was still empty.
And Seo-Ah was still slipping further away.
_______________
The sound of the clock ticking in the therapy room was maddening.
Seo-Ah sat curled up on the soft beige couch, her legs drawn beneath her, fingers tugging gently at the loose threads of her sweater. Dr. Eun's office was cozy—soft lighting, lavender candles, clean lines—but the air always felt heavier when she was there.
Across from her, Dr. Eun waited with gentle patience, pen poised, eyes kind.
"Today?" she asked.
Seo-Ah shook her head. "I don't know where to start."
"How about where it hurts most?"
Seo-Ah's throat tightened. She stared at the painting on the wall—a stormy coastline, waves crashing against jagged rocks.
"It's like I'm drowning," she whispered. "But everyone keeps telling me I should be grateful. That I survived. That someone loves me."
Dr. Eun said nothing. She let the silence stretch.
"And sometimes I think… maybe I don't deserve any of it," Seo-Ah continued. "Not Jae-Hyun. Not safety. Not peace."
"Why not?"
She hesitated. "Because I still think about him. About Min-Jun."
That name dropped like a bomb in the room.
Her eyes filled with tears. "I don't want to. But I do. I see him everywhere. I hear his voice when I close my eyes. And it hurts because I know it's wrong. I should move on. I have someone—someone good. But…"
She choked on her words.
Dr. Eun finally leaned forward. "You're grieving, Seo-Ah. Not just him. But the version of yourself you lost. The innocence. The control. The illusion of safety."
Seo-Ah nodded slowly, tears tracing down her cheek.
"Jae-Hyun is kind," she whispered. "He waits. He listens. He never raises his voice. But when he touches me... I feel like I'm cheating on someone who isn't even mine anymore."
There. She'd said it.
The guilt. The shame. The truth.
Dr. Eun gently passed her a tissue. "Your heart is still catching up with your mind. And that's okay."
---
Jae-Hyun
He waited for her outside the building, leaning against the side of his car, arms crossed. The late afternoon sun lit up the skyline behind him, but his eyes were fixed on the glass doors.
She walked out slowly, face puffy, eyes red.
"Rough day?" he asked softly.
She nodded. "It was… a lot."
Jae-Hyun opened the passenger door for her. "You don't have to say anything. Just sit. Breathe."
She slid in, grateful.
He didn't ask what she said in the session. Didn't try to pry. He drove them to a quiet café on a rooftop overlooking the river, where the wind whispered through the hanging vines and no one cared who they were.
Over chamomile tea and silence, Seo-Ah finally spoke. "Do you ever feel like you're standing on the edge of something? Like… if you take one step forward, you'll either fly or fall?"
Jae-Hyun smiled faintly. "Every time I look at you."
Her lips twitched. "That's not fair."
"Neither is love."
And just when she looked like she might lean into him, like maybe she could try to feel something more—
Her phone rang.
Her body stiffened. She didn't check the caller ID.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I need to take this."
She stepped away.
But the call had already ended.
No number. No voicemail.
Just silence.
---
Min-Jun
The doctor said he'd cracked two ribs.
Stupid. Sloppy.
Min-Jun lay back on the leather couch in the mountain estate he hadn't visited in years. Snow blanketed the windows outside. Fire crackled beside him. He should've been resting.
But all he could do was stare at his phone.
He had dialed her number. Watched it ring. Hung up before she answered.
What would he say?
"Hi, it's me. I killed a man for you. I erased the last part of myself to protect you. And I'm still in love with you."
No.
She had someone now. Someone who deserved her peace.
And Min-Jun was no one's peace.
But still… he wanted her voice. Just once.
And maybe, if fate was cruel enough, he would run into her again. And maybe this time, he wouldn't walk away.