* * *
“……”
It was clear. Daeheon had lost it. Completely.
“So, I just have to wait? Like I’ve cut off my own finger? It’s already been an hour since I last texted him… What if, in that time, some other squid-like Alpha swoops in and steals him away—?!”
“Calm down.”
Junhee had been trying to soothe this lovesick fool when something in Daeheon’s words caught his attention.
“Mr. Kim. If you don’t mind, can I take a look at the messages you sent Yoonjae?”
“My messages?”
He had a strong feeling the problem lay there.
“…You didn’t send ‘Are you awake?’ every night, did you?”
“H-How did you know that?”
“…Give me your phone. Now.”
Junhee held out his hand, and Daeheon obediently placed his phone on top of it.
The messaging app was already open, so he didn’t even need to search for it.
[Me: Babe…]
[Me: I’m sorry for getting angry. It was my fault.]
[Me: Jaejae, I’m really sorry.]
[Me: Please just reply once.]
[Me: I miss you so much…]
[Me: My heart hurts.]
[Me: I almost dropped my scalpel during surgery today because my hands were shaking.]
[Me: Are you awake…?]
[Me: I miss you…]
He thought it was an exaggeration, but no—messages had been sent precisely every hour, on the dot.
Just looking at the texts made it feel like he couldn’t breathe.
“…This is a bit much.”
“Right? At this point, isn’t it only fair to get a reply? My Yoonjae isn’t usually this cold-hearted…”
“No, I meant that you are being too much.”
“…Me?”
“If it were me, I’d be completely fed up by now.”
Kim Daeheon silently screamed, looking ready to tear his hair out.
“When messages come in every single day, every single hour… and then suddenly stop—do you know which one drives a person crazier?”
The old Junhee wouldn’t have known.
But now, he understood better than anyone.
…Because he had experienced it firsthand.
“Jaejae must be wondering how sorry I am, what I’m doing right now, don’t you think?”
“No. Right now, he probably doesn’t even want to see your face. The important thing is waiting until he starts wondering first. No one thinks about a question when they already know the answer. So, you have to make yourself into a question he doesn’t know the answer to—make sure you keep coming to mind.”
Daeheon, looking utterly defeated, reluctantly nodded.
“…I’ll trust you, Yoo Junhee. Then, can’t I at least send one last heartfelt message?”
Seeing how desperate he was, Junhee relented just a little.
“Keep it as short as possible. Just say you’ll wait. One sentence.”
When he handed the phone back, Daeheon immediately started typing.
Meanwhile, Junhee let his gaze drift into empty space.
The engagement ceremony was just around the corner now.
What Hong Yeonggyeong had asked of him was the simplest yet most difficult thing.
At this point, the only way his mother could continue receiving treatment at Dain Medical Center was if he used Ki Taeryu.
…But at least he wouldn’t end up as miserable as Junhee.
He was someone who had so much.
With all his overflowing wealth, he could easily smother something as trivial as misfortune.
He would be fine.
…The only one who wouldn’t be fine was himself.
“Are you done writing?”
It was taking a suspiciously long time.
When Junhee glanced at Daeheon’s screen, the message was a dense forest of words.
Without hesitation, Junhee snatched the phone away.
[Me: Baby, I was really completely in the wrong. You’re eating properly, right? Even if you’re tired, annoyed, and busy, you must eat. I’m so sorry for hurting you and making you mad. I only said those things because I was worried about you, but I shouldn’t have. I regret it so much. But I kept my promise to you—I didn’t drink, see? I did well, right? I didn’t even smoke that much, only three packs. If you want me to make it up to you, please just text me back, I’ll wai—]
“…I told you to keep it to one sentence.”
“I hadn’t even added a period yet…”
“…I’ll write it myself.”
Junhee pressed the backspace key without mercy, erasing everything.
[Me: If you ever feel like talking, reach out. I’ll be waiting.]
“This… this is really enough? There’s no emotion in it at all.”
“…I was going to make it even shorter. But out of respect for the effort you put in, I made it two sentences instead. From this moment on, do not text first. Just wait.”
“But if I really, really can’t hold back—”
“Then just turn your phone off.”
Faced with Junhee’s unwavering response, Daeheon finally gave in with a miserable expression.
Junhee’s time churned like water trapped in a fishbowl.
He felt like he was swimming forward, circling the same kind of day over and over again, but in the end, he was just a little goldfish floundering alone in a tiny glass tank.
Crunch.
He crushed the engagement invitation in his hand and shoved it into the trash.
Then he stepped out of the restroom, straightened his clothes in front of the sink mirror, and adjusted his tie.
His fingers hesitated slightly as they touched the fabric.
With a final glance at his reflection and a quick fix of his hair, he walked out.
Crossing the hallway, he stopped in front of the hospital room.
He worked his stiff facial muscles into a smile before taking a deep breath.
Knock, knock.
He rapped on the door twice and stepped inside.
“Junhee.”
His mother, dressed in a hospital gown, greeted him with a bright smile.
The sharp sound of his polished shoes echoed in the quiet room.
“My Junhee, you look so handsome.”
“…What are you talking about?”
“You’re the most handsome person in the world.”
“That’s just because you’re my mom.”
“No, really. You don’t know how many times the nurses here have told me how pretty you are. And every time, I keep wanting to hear it more.”
There was a huge gap between being handsome and being pretty, but he decided not to argue.
“How are you feeling?”
“I don’t think I’ve felt this good in a long time. Everyone here is so kind… The food is great, and most of all, the doctor is really wonderful. She’s so beautiful and kind.”
Junhee thought back to Do Sehee—the woman he had met again the day his mother was transferred here.
‘Your brother told me. Don’t worry. Just leave everything to us.’
‘…I’ll be counting on you.’
‘I’ll be counting on you too.’
Another person who didn’t want Ki Taeryu to get married.
Ki Taeryu’s engagement to Ki Buseong and Do Sehee had come first, but due to Chairman Ki’s fury, their third marriage had been postponed until after Ki Taeryu’s first marriage.
“That’s good. Hospital food isn’t supposed to taste good.”
“Junhee… Are you really sure about the hospital bills? If even a little bit of the cost falls on you, I absolutely won’t—”
She had asked the same thing countless times already, as if she had some kind of compulsion.
And Junhee understood that feeling.
To someone who had spent a lifetime barely scraping by, there was nothing scarier than money.
“I told you not to worry. I got selected for a government program that covers everything—the surgery, treatment, even meals.”
“Really? That’s such a relief…”
She still looked frail, but at least her condition wasn’t worsening.
Still, the surgery couldn’t be delayed any longer.
And coincidentally, it had been scheduled for today—the day of the engagement ceremony.
“I have to go on a business trip for a while, so I won’t be able to visit for some time.”
“I know. You’ve told me before.”
She reached out with her thin arm and gently took his hand.
“Take care of your work, Junhee. Be careful on the road. And you really do look so handsome today.”
“…I guess so.”
“Hmm? What did you say?”
“…I must take after you.”
Hearing that, his mother smiled, looking like she was about to cry.
“…You’re right. You’re just like me, Junhee.”
The warmth of her touch faded, leaving a passbook and seal resting in his palm.
“…What is this?”
“It’s a bank account I opened for you when you were little.”
“…Why are you giving it to me?”
“Hold onto it for me, Junhee. Please.”
At the word please, Junhee gave in and took it—on the condition that it was only temporary.
Of course, he had no intention of keeping it.
But with her surgery just hours away, he wanted to give her even the smallest bit of peace of mind.
“Don’t worry about me. Just focus on your work. I’ll be fine.”
“If you’re in pain, don’t just say you’re fine. Tell me.”
“Yeah, I will.”
Junhee’s smile, as if even being nagged at made him happy to the point of death, was nothing but unsettling.
He looked so precarious that it was difficult to take a step away.
“…I’ll be back.”
Mom.
Seo Jeong-hee, with a face clearly marked by illness, smiled faintly.
“Go on, my son.”
As Junhee turned around, his back felt as heavy as that of a student weighed down by a school bag.
The hotel ballroom where the engagement ceremony was being held was far more extravagant than expected.
Crystal decorations shimmered from the ceiling, and beyond the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, the nightscape glittered even more brilliantly.
The hall was filled with fresh flowers.
But more than that, what thickened the air was the intoxicating scent of pheromones drifting about.
By the time Junhee slipped in through the staff entrance, the engagement ceremony had already begun.
This lavish space, decorated almost like a concert hall, felt completely detached from the world he lived in.
A stage that seemed to be showered in starlight, and the two figures standing at its center.
“…….”
They were holding hands as they cut the wedding cake.
It felt as if they were slicing through Junhee’s heart, piece by piece.
In this place, where applause and laughter filled the air, he alone could not bring himself to smile.
In this space, meant for celebration and blessings, he alone cast curses.
“It’s fine.”
It didn’t feel fine at all, but there was nothing else to do but keep repeating it.
* * *
