Namjoon barged into the Hwan mansion, rage crashing off him like waves against stone. His heavy steps echoed through the grand hall until his eyes locked on Seo-ra, descending the stairs with elegance that felt like mockery. She was too calm, too nonchalant—it stoked the fire in his chest. His fists curled at the sight of her.
"You're here?" she greeted with a faint smile, as though nothing in the world was amiss.
"What happened to Mother?" His voice was sharp, low—less a question, more an accusation.
Seo-ra's lips twisted into a sinister smile. "Do you think I had something to do with it?"
"Seo-ra." Namjoon's hand shot out, seizing her wrist with a grip that made her flinch. "I've told you before—you can do anything you want. But never with my family's health. Never with meds." His voice was deep, dangerously steady.
Seo-ra chuckled, but the sound broke into a bitter frown. "Family? Which one? The one you don't even care about? Or the one you keep pretending to protect when you've never protected me?"
Namjoon's grip tightened as he leaned closer, eyes boring into hers. "Are you testing me?"
"I said I did nothing!" Seo-ra screamed, yanking at her wrist. "She just slumped! Why do you always point fingers at me? What do you take me for?"
"You were the only one with her. Then you disappeared when she landed in the hospital. How am I supposed to believe you?"
"Yes! I didn't show up!" Seo-ra spat. "And why should I? Why should I care for a family that never once cared about me? If she collapsed—or even died—what is it to me?"
"Seo-ra!!" Namjoon's voice thundered as his hand rose, trembling midair, before he forced it down with sheer will.
Her eyes burned with a twisted mix of defiance and despair. "Why did you stop? Go on—hit me! That's the one thing you haven't done yet. Do it, Namjoon! What do I look like to you? You think I endured all this just for fun? You think I wanted this marriage? No—we were both forced into it! But I tried. I tried to make it work. And still, no one appreciates me—not you, not your father, no one! What do you want from me?"
Namjoon's voice cut like a blade. "My mother is fighting for her life, and you stand here making yourself the victim?"
Seo-ra's laugh was hollow, jagged. Then she met his eyes, steady and cold. "I can't do this anymore. Let's get a divorce."
Namjoon froze, then nodded with chilling finality. "I'd be more than happy to. Pack your things. Leave. And just so you know—Kira isn't leaving with you."
Her face crumpled. "You're really going to do that?"
"You asked for this. And I can't trust my daughter with you. Besides—" his voice hardened like steel, "she wasn't yours to begin with."
Seo-ra staggered, color draining from her face. His words lanced through her like poison.
"The papers will be sent before the day ends," Namjoon finished coldly. "You have until tomorrow to sign." And with that, he stormed out, leaving her standing in silence.
Seo-ra sank to the floor, shaking, her palms smacking against the marble as she sobbed. "No… no, this can't be. I tried too hard. I can't lose this. Kira is mine—she's mine, she's mine. No one can take her away from me." Her broken voice echoed off the grand, empty walls.
---
Meanwhile, at the hospital.
The night sky stretched vast and dark, stars scattered like distant embers. Min-jae sat slumped against the wall outside the VVIP ward, his shadow long under the dim corridor light. His clasped hands trembled despite his attempt at composure.
Footsteps broke the silence. He lifted his head and saw Ga-young, hesitant but resolute.
Without a word, she crouched down beside him and held out a chilled bottle of barley tea, condensation dripping down her fingers. "You look like you need this," she said softly. From her bag, she produced a small pouch of snacks.
Min-jae blinked, then accepted the bottle. Their fingers brushed, and something subtle shifted between them. The cold glass grounded him. "Thank you," he murmured, voice rough.
She sat beside him, close enough their shoulders nearly touched, but she asked nothing, pressed nothing. She simply sat—until the silence felt less suffocating, almost… companionable.
Finally, he exhaled. "You should've gone home. It's late. Your mother will worry."
"It's fine." Ga-young exhaled too, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I'm an adult. Besides, her friends came over." She leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, "I don't like them much, so this is my escape."
A laugh slipped from Min-jae, quiet but real.
Ga-young's smile brightened. "Ye-seul has left?"
He nodded. "With Father and Ji-uk."
"She'll be fine," Ga-young said gently. "From what I've heard, your mother's strong."
"She is," Min-jae agreed, though his trembling hands betrayed him.
Without thinking, Ga-young reached out, clasping his cold hands between hers. "First, you have to believe it," she said, offering a small, reassuring smile.
Min-jae's lips curved upward—this time with genuine warmth. "Thank you."
"No need," she teased, pulling out sweet bread. "Just eat, or you'll collapse before she even wakes up."
He chuckled, accepting it. "What about you?"
"I betrayed you," she said with a mock bow. "I already had dinner."
He shook his head, smiling despite himself.
Moments later, Min-jae was at Mrs. Hwan's bedside, staring at her still form, waiting desperately for the smallest twitch. Nothing came. Ga-young watched him, her heart aching—not for Mrs. Hwan, but for Min-jae, whose world seemed to crumble with every passing second.
Then, like a miracle scripted in film, Mrs. Hwan stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, startled, and Min-jae immediately grasped her hand.
"It's fine, I'm here," he whispered, relief flooding him in waves. Tears clung stubbornly to his lashes.
Her breathing steadied. She reached out, her weak hand brushing his cheek. "Min-jae."
He laughed through his tears, pressing her hand closer. "Mother… you scared me half to death. Don't ever do that again."
Mrs. Hwan gave a weak laugh. "I never thought you'd be the first face I'd see, waking up in a hospital bed."
"Am I not your child too?" he teased, voice breaking.
Her thumb brushed his tears away. "Stop crying. It doesn't suit you. You look like… a poorly made dumpling."
He laughed, half-choked, as the doctor rushed in, declaring her a miracle.
Soon after, Mrs. Hwan's gaze settled on Ga-young. "And who are you, if I may ask?"
"Choi Ga-young," she answered with a bow.
"Oh—Secretary Choi! Ye-seul always talks about you."
Ga-young smiled, then gasped theatrically. "But honestly, you're even more beautiful than the tabloids say. I was stunned."
Mrs. Hwan chuckled, pleased. "Really?"
"I mean it, Ma'am."
"No wonder Ye-seul likes you so much," Mrs. Hwan said with a tired smile.
Soon the room filled with family—Ye-seul, Ji-uk, Namjoon, and finally Mr. Hwan. Ga-young bowed politely, then quietly excused herself, murmuring to Min-jae that she would stay at the hotel opposite the hospital.
Before she left, Min-jae caught her wrist gently, his voice low but sincere. "Thank you… for staying. You made tonight bearable."
Ga-young's eyes softened. "You don't need to thank me. Just… get some rest. Your mother's stronger than you think."
He nodded, releasing her hand reluctantly. "Goodnight, Ga-young."
"Goodnight, Min-jae," she whispered back, a faint smile curving her lips as she slipped out into the quiet night.
Left behind, Min-jae's heart warmed despite the storm of the day. For the first time, the darkness didn't feel so heavy.