* * *

“Don’t dwell on terrible futures that will never happen. Just remember the good things. And in the end, I won, didn’t I?”

“Yeah…”

Nodding slightly, I settled into Doha’s arms.

His warm body felt like a soft, comforting blanket, wrapping me up as if it would protect me forever.

After a long moment of pressing my cheek against his shoulder, I interlocked my fingers around his neck and leaned back a bit.

There was still one nagging issue I wanted to address.

“Hey, Doha.”

“Yeah?”

“Is there really no way I can sell the employee badge you gave me? Or maybe… use that old one, the one without a logo, just for everyday use? That’d be the same, right?”

At my careful question, Doha just smiled a sly, knowing smile.

“You think that’ll work?”

Damn it… How would selling that badge even change anything?

---

The weekend vanished as quickly as it came.

Now, it was time to finally get back to work.

I rubbed my tired eyes as I climbed onto the bus, feeling the chill in the air.

The cold was enough that I’d wrapped a scarf around my neck before leaving.

It was just after 4 AM, with the sky still dark.

Leaving Doha asleep at home, I’d decided I needed time alone to organize my thoughts.

Of course, I hadn’t exactly asked for his opinion on the matter.

Since when did he start giving me tips about my own work hours?

After getting off the bus, I walked through the familiar front gate of the company, ordering a strawberry soda from the 24-hour café.

The barista gave me a surprised look.

“Not an Americano?”

“I’ve got to try new things sometimes.”

“Don’t you know it’s bad to change suddenly?”

“I’ve been drinking Americanos every day for eight years. At this rate, it might kill me.”

Chuckling, I took the soda the barista handed me.

I didn’t have a particular reason for ordering it—just a sudden craving.

For eight years, I’d practically lived on Americanos, ignoring all the seasonal specials.

But today, I just felt like trying something different.

I swiped my employee badge and entered the elevator, sipping the strawberry soda as its sweet, fizzy taste tingled down my throat.

Not bad, I thought, yawning widely.

Despite sleeping more than usual, the fatigue hadn’t gone away.

I found myself thinking of Doha, probably still sprawled out in bed, and felt an unexpected wave of irritation.

Damn it.

Here I am, up at dawn working overtime, while Mr. CEO gets to sleep in like some royal.

Sure, no one forced me to take this shift, but still, the thought grated on me.

As the elevator reached the executive floor, I was still fuming about Doha.

I turned on my tablet and reviewed the employees’ schedules, Doha’s upcoming meetings, and the tasks others had covered while I’d been away.

Everything was in flawless order, everyone had covered my absence perfectly.

Memories flashed before my eyes—training new hires, coaxing them through late-night drinking sessions, trying to keep them from quitting.

This was the culmination of eight years of effort.

I’d always thought the place would fall apart without me, but that clearly wasn’t the case.

Should I be disappointed or proud?

It was a bittersweet realization as I tossed my empty cup and opened my inbox.

“Unbelievable.”

Emails from various model agencies, regular people, and entertainment management companies flooded the screen.

Some had concise subject lines like “We are from XYZ agency,” while others were interview requests from reporters at local newspapers.

Amidst emails that seemed to be from the general public, there were also mesSeonyuls from business contacts.

My inbox was complete chaos.

It’s not that I didn’t believe what Assistant Manager Lee said—I just hadn’t fully grasped the scale of the response.

To be precise, I hadn’t had the chance to verify it myself.

While recuperating at the hospital, I didn’t have much opportunity to check my phone, and during the seaside trip with Doha, there was no need for it.

So today was my first real exposure to the aftermath of that day.

I skimmed through the emails, forwarding only those related to agencies and model requests to my personal inbox, and then emptied everything out.

I even cleared the trash and sent folder.

I printed out a file I had prepared, detailing the entire workflow process, sent the original to Assistant Manager Lee, and emailed a copy to Staff Member Yoon.

By the time I finished organizing, it was almost 6 PM.

I wondered what else I had to tidy up.

My desk only had a yellow chick-colored blanket, a few succulents, and some highlighters provided by the company.

I threw out the pens that didn’t work and left the succulents where they were.

Once everything was cleaned up, there wasn’t much left.

Standing up, I took a slow look around the office.

It was the same quiet scene as always. I had processed documents here countless times and showed up every morning without fail.

Eight years isn’t a short time.

Even so, it wasn’t enough of a reason to sway my decision now.

I had managed to navigate through this crisis as a model.

To sum it up, it had benefited Doha.

But regardless of the positive outcome, the guilt I harbored didn’t go away.

They say we live in an era of side gigs, but being an underwear model felt like a secret double life from a typical perspective.

Given my primary profession, it wasn’t something easily accepted.

After all, who would hire a secretary who moonlights as an underwear model?

Maintaining a professional image wasn’t just a guideline—it was a given across every company.

I printed a form and picked up a black pen to sign it.

Sitting quietly by the office window, I gazed at the dense skyline of buildings below.

The sky was clear, the weather pleasant—a perfectly fine day.

It had been a bit chilly when I left at dawn, carrying the faint scent of winter in the air.

After staring out the window for a while, I half-closed my eyes and tapped the paper lightly with the tip of my pen.

---

Waking up alone without Seonyul by my side was never a pleasant feeling.

There was no one to help me with my tie, no one to fix my clothes, and most importantly, there was no warmth enveloping me as I woke up in the morning.

I had told him not to leave early for work, but it’s not like Seonyul was the type to listen.

If I put it nicely, he was upright; if I put it harshly, he was rigid and inflexible.

After fumbling for a moment at the cold, empty bed, I got up, washed, and stepped out.

As I put on my shirt, I inhaled the lingering scent of Seonyul’s pheromones that filled the room.

I felt a pang of longing and let out a sigh before shaking it off.

It wasn’t like we wouldn’t see each other soon.

What’s the rush?

No, I should hurry.

Though I tried to keep my thoughts steady, I couldn’t control the erratic flow of emotions.

I had vowed not to act like a child, yet when I was with Seonyul, I found myself wanting to be more childish than an actual child.

I loved when he gently patted my back and when he, with a soft blink, would give in and kiss me.

Remembering the refreshing traces of the ocean we visited, I quickly changed and left the room.

From the parking lot to the executive office, my heart raced with an inexplicable anxiety.

In the elevator, I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to calm the restless beating.

As I approached the executive office, I noticed a peculiar tension.

Everyone seemed quiet as usual, yet there was a strange unease in the air.

It was Monday morning, so I brushed it off lightly.

I realized something was wrong the moment I entered the room and scanned my fingerprint.

The space, usually filled with a certain energy, felt lifeless, as if no one had entered.

The desk, which should have been neatly organized, was a mess.

It was just as it was when he last touched it.

And the absence of any trace of the person who should have followed me into the office felt unsettling.

Something was off.

I immediately called Seonyul, but the call disconnected before the third ring.

That’s when it hit me—I hadn’t returned his phone since the accident.

Striding over to the desk, I found a crisp white envelope neatly placed on top.

Fighting back the growing sense of dread, I pulled out the two sheets of paper inside.

[To CEO Han Doha, thank you for the past eight years.]

There were no trivial pleasantries at the start.

Straight to the point, concise and efficient—that was exactly how Seonyul handled things.

For a brief moment, I wondered if someone had kidnapped him and forced him to write this, but the handwriting was too calm and precise to be coerced.

[There doesn’t seem to be any need for further handover procedures, so I’m leaving the company without prior notice. Assistant Manager Lee has already taken over all my tasks, and I have confirmed that any potentially problematic matters have been properly handled. Over the past two months, the entire secretary team worked flawlessly, leaving no gaps, so no further measures are needed.

They are all capable individuals who will continue to assist you well. Even in my absence, they have carried out their duties diligently. From now on, all matters will be managed by the existing staff, not by a new person.

Thank you for your support during my time here. I wish you a future full of happiness and success.

―Sincerely, Secretary Seonyul.]

* * *