* * *
“What you need right now is rest. Somewhere no one knows you, where you don’t have to think about anything. Just rest.”
Seoyeon spoke firmly.
“I know someone who runs a guesthouse. I’ll contact them and let them know you’re coming. Just say you need a few days to stay. It’s really quiet and the scenery’s beautiful. There’s even a beach right out front. You’ll be able to stay there without anyone bothering you. The owner will probably come pick you up at the airport. Don’t worry about anything—just go.”
Yoonwoo couldn’t say a word in response to her sudden suggestion.
Jeju Island.
A place he had visited several times in the past with Joowon—filled with beautiful, cherished memories.
But was it really okay for him to go there now, in this broken state?
He was afraid of coming face to face with the memories of his happier past.
Unlike then, he had nothing now.
No hope, no reason to live.
But he didn’t want to explain all that to Seoyeon.
“…I can’t go.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t have any money… I don’t have anything.”
The truth was, he could have easily used the severance pay from CS Design where he had worked for eight years, or even sold the house Joowon had given him.
He had more than enough.
But he didn’t want to.
That money came from the company he and Joowon built together.
Using it felt like reopening a wound that hadn’t even begun to heal.
He just couldn’t bring himself to touch it.
“I’ll lend you the money.”
Seoyeon smiled slightly, as if she could see right through him.
“When you get back on your feet and become even more successful than before, pay me back tenfold—or no, a hundredfold. How about that? I know you can do it.”
She had unwavering faith in Yoonwoo’s talent.
Yoonwoo looked at her face.
Seoyeon believed in him.
In the middle of this hellish reality, she was the first person to reach out with warmth and strength.
He couldn’t reject that hand.
“……”
Taking his silence as agreement, Seoyeon gave a satisfied nod.
“Alright, get up. There’s no time. Go wash up.”
Almost forcibly, she pulled Yoonwoo up and pushed him into the bathroom.
Inside, Yoonwoo stood under the water in a daze.
The sudden trip to Jeju still felt unreal, but the sensation of water against his skin reminded him this wasn’t a dream or fantasy—it was real.
“You can buy clothes when you get there. As for what you need… This and this should be enough.”
While he was in the shower, she packed his suitcase, tossing in his phone charger, wallet, and other essentials.
They checked out, grabbed a taxi, and headed to the airport.
The whole time, Yoonwoo just stared blankly out the window.
Everything still felt like a dream.
Seoyeon sat beside him, quietly patting his shoulder.
Her touch was rough, but warm.
Yoonwoo felt his eyes sting again.
When they arrived at Gimpo Airport, everything moved swiftly.
Seoyeon helped him check in and saw him all the way to the departure gate.
She even slipped some cash into his pocket as emergency money.
“Call me once you get there. If something’s wrong, don’t keep it to yourself—call me. Got it? Don’t suffer alone.”
She gave his shoulder a final pat, her voice filled with genuine concern.
“…Thank you, sunbae. Really…”
Yoonwoo spoke quietly, but his gratitude was sincere.
“Don’t mention it. Just forget everything and get some real rest. Don’t worry about anything else.”
Even as the plane took off and Seoul grew smaller beneath him, Yoonwoo still felt like none of this was real.
Everything felt like a dream.
As the gray city shrank to a dot and the plane rose above the clouds, he felt, for just a moment, like he was escaping everything that had been weighing him down.
But that feeling of relief was fleeting. Soon, he sank again into a deep sense of helplessness.
Back at the airport parking lot, after confirming that Yoonwoo’s flight had taken off, Seoyeon sat in her car, suppressing the cold fury boiling inside her.
She picked up her phone without hesitation, scrolled through her contacts, and pressed Cha Joowon’s number.
After a few rings, Joowon’s tired, quiet voice answered.
[…Hello?]
“Hey, Cha Joowon.”
Seoyeon growled, barely restraining her urge to curse right from the start.
[…Seoyeon? What’s going on?]
His voice was laced with confusion and wariness, surprised by her sudden call.
“What’s going on?! You bastard. Do you even know what’s happened to Yoonwoo because of you?!”
Her pent-up rage exploded.
“He went completely off the grid, so I had to ask around your company to figure out where he might’ve gone, then took leave from work and searched every damn motel in town! And what the hell did you do to him?! His wrist and side are covered in bruises! He should be in a hospital right now! What the hell did you do to Yoonwoo?!”
Her fury only grew the more she spoke.
[…What? Bruises? What are you talking about? I never laid a hand on him. We broke up, yeah, but I’d never hit Yoonwoo.]
Joowon’s voice shook with what sounded like genuine confusion.
He had no recollection of meeting Yoonwoo during his rut with the Omega at the hotel.
Seoyeon was so stunned she felt her energy drain.
“…Of course. You don’t remember anything. Because of your damn rut, right?”
She didn’t want to say another word to him.
Just hearing his voice made her feel like her ears were being dirtied.
“Forget it. I was crazy to ever introduce Yoonwoo to someone like you! Pushing him to join the film club and helping you two make up—biggest mistake of my life!”
She meant it. Truly, from the bottom of her heart.
“So don’t ever show your face to Yoonwoo again. Don’t call him. And don’t you dare call me either. As far as I’m concerned, we’re done. You understand?!”
With that, Seoyeon ended the call without waiting for a response and blocked his number.
After the call, Joowon stood frozen, still holding his phone.
Yoonwoo was hurt?
He had bruises?
‘During my rut?’
He was deeply confused.
Did that mean Yoonwoo had come to the hotel?
But he had no memory of it at all.
Still, Seoyeon’s furious and resolute voice left him feeling uneasy.
He remembered Yoonwoo’s last expression—that utterly broken, hollow stare.
The image of Yoonwoo’s face brought a strange pain to his chest, but he forced himself to ignore it.
It had to be the eight years they’d spent together, nothing more.
‘No. That can’t be right. If Yoonwoo had been at the hotel, he would’ve told me when we met at the officetel. He wouldn’t have just quietly broken up with me. There’s no way he saw me there.’
He forcibly shoved down the storm of emotions brewing inside him.
‘It’s tough right now, but Seoyeon’s with him. She’ll take better care of him than I ever could.’
Ironically, Seoyeon’s anger brought him a strange sense of relief.
He pushed all thoughts of Yoonwoo out of his mind.
Now wasn’t the time to be worrying about Yoonwoo.
He glanced at the clock—it was almost time for his dinner date with Jiwoon.
Heading over to the closet, he began picking out the best outfit he had for their evening together.
The unease and nervousness on his face faded away, replaced by a growing sense of anticipation and excitement.
Not long after, the plane touched down at Jeju Airport.
As he exited the gate and stepped outside, the air of Jeju hit him—so different from Seoul.
It was a mix of salty ocean breeze and the damp scent of earth, rushing deep into his lungs.
The season had passed deep autumn and was now heading into early winter.
Though Jeju lay further south than Seoul, the sea winds made the air feel quite chilly.
Above him, the night sky sparkled with countless stars, a sight impossible to catch in Seoul.
Yoonwoo stood still in front of the airport entrance, staring blankly at the people passing by.
In the midst of the crowd, bustling with energy, he alone seemed frozen in time.
Couples dragging their luggage, people hurrying toward their destinations—so full of life.
Their brightness stood in stark contrast to the desolation inside him.
Where was he supposed to go now?
Then, a bitter thought drifted through the cold wind.
“…Autumn again. We met in the autumn of twenty-three, and said goodbye in the autumn of thirty-one. Both the beginning and the end… autumn.”
A faint, self-mocking smile crossed his lips.
Eight years ago, in that season of excitement and fear, he had reached out and held Joowon’s hand.
Now, in this very same season, he stood alone, with everything shattered around him.
The happiest season of his life had now become its cruelest.
Yoonwoo inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the sea carried on the frigid breeze, and looked up at Jeju’s unfamiliar sky with empty eyes.
And just then, that familiar sea scent stirred a memory—
He’d been here before. With Joowon.
Right here, at this very airport.
Hearts pounding, they’d rushed toward the blue sea.
They laughed as they walked along the beach, whispered about the future while gazing at the night ocean—fragments of a day so dazzlingly happy.
The sudden onslaught of memory made his eyes sting with heat.
The grief he’d tried so hard to suppress raked once again at his heart.
He quickly lowered his head to hold back the tears threatening to fall.
Even here in Jeju, a place he’d fled to like a runaway, the shadow of that person clung to him too tightly.
* * *
