Se-Ri's POV
I called Rhea and Amisha to tell them about the hike Leo had planned — just the two of us.
They were thrilled.
But of course, Rhea slipped into her "mother hen" tone.
"So… what are you going to do next?"
I hesitated for a beat, then said, "I think it's the right time to tell him how I feel."
Amisha squealed. "Finally."
When I stepped outside that morning, Leo was already waiting — leaning against the car, dressed like someone who could survive in the wild but preferred espresso machines.
Slate-gray tee. Lightweight black jacket. Trail boots that actually looked worn.
His eyes flicked up as I approached.
"You came," he said, voice low and amused.
I adjusted the strap of my backpack. "Of course I did. You said it was my kind of date."
He eyed my outfit. "You look... practical."
"You look too moisturized to survive a mosquito."
He laughed — the rare, real kind that loosened something in my chest — and opened the car door for me.
The drive was quiet, but not the awkward kind.
Soft music played low. Trees thickened around us as we left the city behind.
"Do you actually hike?" I asked after a while.
"I do now," he replied.
"Because of me?"
He shrugged. "Let's call it a strategic adaptation."
I smirked and turned to the window before he could see the smile take over my whole face.
The trail started gently. Gravel underfoot. The sun slicing through pine branches. Everything smelled like wet wood and something almost like peace.
Leo let me set the pace. We didn't talk much — only to point out a bird or an oddly shaped rock. It was... easy.
Like we'd done this before.
Like silence wasn't an absence — but space being offered.
An hour in, we reached the lake.
Still, silver, edged in tall grass and insect buzz. It looked like a secret.
We sat on a rock near the shore. I took out my water bottle. Leo rested his elbows on his knees.
The breeze shifted.
At the exact same time, we both said—
"I want to tell you something."
We blinked at each other. Then smiled.
"You first," I said.
Leo looked at me. Really looked.
The light off the water cast his face in silver and shadow.
"I'm leaving," he said. "For Shanghai. The day after tomorrow."
The words didn't hit. They landed.
Like a soft slap. Quiet. Clean. Final.
I stared.
"For how long?"
"A few months. Maybe longer. It's... a new expansion. The Shanghai team needs me to set it up."
I didn't say anything.
"I wanted to tell you sooner," he added, his voice more careful now. "But I didn't want to ruin this. Us."
I nodded slowly. Tried to swallow.
But my breath caught — not in my throat, but in my chest.
Like something was pressing down.
"Say something," he said.
I opened my mouth. But all that came out was breath. And then — tears.
Not loud. Not dramatic. Just... falling.
I turned away, fast.
He stood. "Se-Ri—"
I walked toward the cottage. My pace too quick. My heart louder than the birds.
"Se-Ri," he said again, from behind me.
I didn't stop. Didn't turn.
I reached the cottage door, opened it, and stepped inside.
Closed it.
And cried like I hadn't in years.
Outside, I heard one last knock.
"Se-Ri?"
But no more after that.
I packed quietly the next morning. Left before sunrise.
Didn't say goodbye.
Didn't leave a note.
And I didn't look back.