That day, Sera wanted to arrive at work a little late because she felt slightly unwell. She had been sick; every night haunted by the same recurring dream made her reluctant to close her eyes.
"Hi, guys. Sorry for making you overwhelmed. I heard the shop was quite busy earlier," Sera said, her pale eyes and dark circles betraying her fatigue, as she addressed her coworkers.
"Ugh, Sera, you look a mess. Did you even sleep enough? Your eyes look like pandas," Cindy, the store supervisor, patted Sera's shoulder before walking away with the other employees.
"Are you okay, Sera?" asked Maria.
"Yes, Maria. I'm fine, just a little sleep-deprived. Oh, by the way, where's Stella? Did she call in sick today?"
"She came in, but there was a small accident earlier. Her hand got burned by the oven, pretty badly, so Cindy asked her to go to the hospital," Maria explained.
"Oh my, it must be because I came in late," Sera muttered.
"It's not your fault. Nobody knows when accidents will happen. She's at Lily Hospital; we can visit her later," Maria reassured.
Sera nodded, agreeing. Her gaze drifted across to the florist in front of the bakery. The shop was closed, its lights off. She hadn't even noticed it when she arrived earlier because she was in a hurry.
"Hah, the shop's been closed since morning. Looks like your prince is having a day off," Maria added, answering a question Sera hadn't even voiced yet. But then another question arose in her mind.
"What's happened to him? Where is he? Is he okay?"
After their shift ended, the bakery staff decided to visit Stella. Sera asked to go later because she wanted to pick up flowers for her.
The sharp scent of disinfectant filled the air as Sera hurried down the hospital corridor, carrying a small bouquet of lilies. A friend was hospitalized—not too serious, but hospitals always made her uneasy. Memories she wanted to forget seemed to rise with every beep of the monitors.
Turning a corner, she froze.
He was there.
Liam.
Standing just a few steps away, broad shoulders familiar to her, his head bowed as he spoke softly to someone seated beside him.
Sera's chest tightened. That someone… was Clara.
Time seemed to slow. She stood frozen, trying to calm her racing heart. Every word spoken, every glance exchanged… as if none of it was meant for her. Yet she kept watching, even as her heart ached, even as every fiber of her being screamed to move closer.
She observed how Liam lowered his head as Clara spoke, how he looked at her gently while Clara's hand remained entwined with his arm.
"I'm too foolish to understand all this. Look at her, Sera. She seems happier with Clara. The glances you thought were only for you… weren't. Throw away your feelings, Sera. You're just strangers who happened to meet," her own inner voice whispered bitterly.
Sera turned to face Maria.
"Sera, you're here? Come on, let's go to Stella's room together." Sera shook her head.
"Oh, sorry. I suddenly remembered something I have to do," she muttered. It seemed Liam noticed them, rising as if to approach her, but Sera turned away quickly.
"Maria, please give this to Stella. I really have to go." She handed the bouquet to Maria and walked away swiftly. Her steps echoed across the cold hospital floor, too fast, too uneven, as if she were running not from a place but from her own breaking heart.
Outside, the evening air was damp with light drizzle. She leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, sharp and uneven.
He was there with Clara. Liam let Clara embrace him as if she still mattered. Liam looked at her in the way Sera had dreamed he would look at her all this time.
The pain spread across Sera's chest, heavy, suffocating. She tried to calm herself—they had never said anything, never promised forever. But the cruel truth was… her heart had already promised itself to him, without words, without permission.
Tears blurred her vision. She hated herself for caring so much, for loving him even though she wasn't even sure she had the right.
A message lit up her phone. Liam's name appeared. Sera's thumb hovered over the screen but she couldn't bring herself to open it. Not now. Not while the image of him and Clara was still painfully imprinted in her mind.
So she silenced the phone, put it back in her bag, and whispered to herself with trembling lips:
"Maybe this is wrong. Maybe he was never truly mine from the start, and it's my fault for letting it go this far."
As the rain fell harder, she walked away from the hospital into the night, carrying a heart full of love… and doubt that almost tore her apart.