* * *

“We’re not… brothers, apparently. Not twins. Not related.”

Jingyeom had wanted to say it calmly, but there was no stopping the tremor in his voice.

Saying it out loud, his heart dropped, and for a moment, he wondered if it would’ve been better to bury it all instead of bringing it up.

But he couldn’t take back the words once spoken, so he bit down and waited for Jinwoo to respond.

Jinwoo’s lips quivered as if he wanted to say something, but he never made a sound.

He repeated this several times, but in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

Jingyeom didn’t know how long had passed, but he didn’t want to rush Jinwoo.

He couldn’t tell exactly what Jinwoo was thinking, or how he felt, but he knew this wasn’t something easy to talk about.

So, the silence didn’t bother him.

It wasn’t unbearable.

It was just time passing quietly, a moment for them both to calm down and prepare to talk.

The truth was, Jinwoo wanted to get up and leave right then and there.

He regretted not smashing that damn phone earlier.

He knew keeping quiet wouldn’t change anything, but his lips just wouldn’t part.

‘What could I possibly say that wouldn’t destroy what we have?’

His mind went blank, unable to find the words.

‘…How do I say something that won’t change you?’

No matter how much he thought, no answer came.

But he couldn’t stay silent forever.

Jinwoo slowly opened his eyes, his trembling gaze locking onto Jingyeom.

Just with that, Jingyeom could sense Jinwoo’s swirling emotions.

Seeing Jinwoo’s desperate eyes made Jingyeom want to cry, so he quickly averted his gaze.

‘He can’t even stand to look at me, huh…’

Misunderstanding Jingyeom’s action, Jinwoo let out a shaky breath and carefully spoke.

“Yeah. We’re not twins. Not even brothers. But I’ve never once… thought we weren’t family.”

“…You knew too. How long?”

Jingyeom’s question sounded like a reproach.

‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you keep it to yourself?’

That’s how Jinwoo heard it.

It felt like his whole body was being slashed open.

Every word from Jingyeom hurt.

Even though they were so close, he couldn’t reach out.

That brief conversation felt like an eternity to Jinwoo.

He exhaled a trembling breath, clasping his hands tightly together.

His irregular heartbeat only heightened his tension.

“…Not long after I started middle school. Dad told me.”

“You found out early… Did you ever think about telling me?”

“I didn’t want to.”

Jinwoo shook his head as he spoke.

The day Baek Myungjun first told him, Jinwoo had cried so much.

It was an overwhelming truth for a teenager to handle.

But there hadn’t been time to process it.

He had to take care of the sick Jingyeom, teach him what he learned in school—there was hardly any time for himself.

In a way, that was a blessing. It kept him from overthinking.

And just like Baek Myungjun had said, Jinwoo felt he had to repay the debt.

Staying by Jingyeom’s side, taking care of him, that was his duty.

He knew the truth all too well, and that’s why he couldn’t say anything.

As time passed, he didn’t want to.

If he had told Jingyeom back then, they wouldn’t have been able to stay together like this.

And if he’d waited until they were older…

‘He would’ve left me.’

Jinwoo smiled bitterly.

Even after Baek Myungjun passed, Jinwoo endured all the hardships, staying by Jingyeom’s side.

If he had left, he could’ve lived an ordinary life on his own.

But Baek Myungjun had watched, convinced that no matter what happened, Jinwoo would never abandon Jingyeom.

And then he shamelessly started asking for money.

When Jinwoo couldn’t give him money, Myungjun threatened to tear apart their family bond, and Jinwoo had no choice but to comply.

He wanted to stay by Jingyeom’s side, and Jingyeom’s presence was what kept him going through all those difficult times.

Just when Jinwoo thought he was finally free from Myungjun, it turned out that wasn’t the case.

Jinwoo, thinking it was all over, still held onto a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, this Jingyeom wouldn’t leave him.

“When were you planning to tell me? Were you going to keep it a secret forever?”

“Yeah. I wanted you to never know. I… I just wanted things to stay the way they were.”

Jinwoo’s answer made Jingyeom’s lips gradually turn downward.

Did you love Baek Jingyeom that much?

Through his time living in Jinwoo’s body, he had personally experienced just how much Jinwoo had done for Baek Jingyeom.

Despite Jingyeom’s frail body, which prevented him from even being insured, Jinwoo had covered his enormous hospital bills and continued to support his extravagant lifestyle—all while Jingyeom did nothing, claiming his weak health as an excuse.

He had taken care of everything until now.

When he first went to the rooftop apartment, Jingyeom was shocked to find out that Jinwoo’s room was essentially the living room.

While organizing, he noticed how many of Jingyeom’s belongings filled the place, compared to the almost non-existent amount of Jinwoo’s.

Jinwoo wasn’t allowed to work, nor was he allowed to do any housework.

Back then, Jingyeom had simply thought Jinwoo was a family member dedicated to his brother’s wellbeing.

Not once had he ever considered that Jinwoo might have harbored other feelings.

The scattered puzzle pieces were finally coming together, but why did his mind feel more jumbled than ever?

“…You would’ve found out eventually, wouldn’t you? Just like now.”

Jingyeom frowned, closing his eyes as a sharp headache started to creep in.

His throat felt parched, though he hadn’t said much.

“What were you going to do when I found out?”

He hadn’t intended to blame Jinwoo, but his words came out cold.

“…I don’t know. Even now, I don’t know what to do or what to say.”

“If you don’t know, then what am I supposed to do?”

“Yeah… If I don’t know, then what do we do?”

Jingyeom tried to hold back, but tears filled his eyes.

He hated Baek Myungjun and Jeong Sanho for creating this situation.

He felt even more heartbroken, thinking about how Jinwoo had been enduring all this alone, and it only made him more upset.

Jingyeom bit his lower lip hard, covering his eyes with one hand.

He didn’t want Jinwoo to see him like this.

In that state, he asked in a voice as calm as he could muster, “…What about your real parents?”

“I heard they died in an accident. That’s why they took me in and raised me. I was so young, they thought raising us as twins wouldn’t be a problem. We’re barely a year apart, so it wasn’t hard to believe.”

“We weren’t even born on the same day… When’s your real birthday?”

“January 28th.”

“…Ha. So, I was still the older one.”

Jingyeom tried to speak without breaking down, but his voice wavered.

He was trying not to make the atmosphere too heavy, but thinking about how Jinwoo had been hiding his real birthday made Jingyeom’s tears spill over.

Jinwoo, who had been looking down, now glanced over at Jingyeom in surprise.

Though his eyes were covered, his trembling lips showed that he was trying to hold back his tears.

Jinwoo hesitated, but he moved closer to Jingyeom and cautiously reached out a hand.

He was afraid Jingyeom might push him away, but at the same time, he just didn’t want him to cry.

He gently placed his hand on Jingyeom’s small head, staying still for a moment, and then slowly began to stroke his hair.

“I’m sorry… for everything.”

“Jinwoo, you didn’t tell me because… you had your own reasons, didn’t you?”

“…”

“Why did Dad tell me now? You must know.”

Jingyeom asked in a trembling voice.

He knew Jinwoo wouldn’t want to talk about it, but Jingyeom had to hear it.

There had to be a reason why Baek Myungjun had hidden the truth until now, only to reveal it.

Jingyeom had a feeling that he was somehow a part of that reason—and it couldn’t be for anything good.

As expected, Jinwoo remained silent for a long time.

By the time Jingyeom had calmed down, he removed the hand covering his eyes.

His hands were damp, and he roughly wiped the tears that had trailed down with his sleeve.

Jinwoo grabbed his arm, gently pulling it down to stop him.

Jingyeom’s eyes, red and swollen, looked utterly pitiful.

“If you need time to organize your thoughts, I’ll give you that time.”

Jingyeom knew that Jinwoo was more shocked than anyone, so he swallowed his desire to ask more.

Too many things had happened all at once, and Jinwoo needed time to process it all.

And Jingyeom, feeling that if they continued to talk now, he’d break down crying again, thought it would be best to take some time to collect himself, too.

“Tell me when you’re ready.”

Jingyeom stood up from his seat. Jinwoo looked at him with a noticeably hurt expression.

Jingyeom’s fingers twitched.

Seeing that look made him want to pull Jinwoo into his arms and comfort him.

But he knew that no matter how much he held him, the facts wouldn’t change.

Forcing his hands to stay at his sides, Jingyeom clenched his fists.

“I’ll be in my room.”

“…Don’t go.”

“…”

“Don’t go, Gyeom-ah.”

Jinwoo lifted his arms and grabbed Jingyeom’s wrists.

Not stopping there, he pulled Jingyeom into an embrace, as if to say he wouldn’t let go.

He even tightened his grip, as if afraid Jingyeom would slip away.

Jingyeom tried to pull away but hesitated when he saw Jinwoo’s trembling arms.

He could feel how desperately Jinwoo was holding back his emotions.

“…”

At that moment, as if by some miracle, the lights in the house flickered on, but neither of them paid attention.

“I’ll tell you everything. I’ll explain it all…”

* * *