Five years passed in silence. Five years of avoidance, of hiding in my room, of letting the world outside fester in my absence. The city moved on. School, college, work—all of it became background noise as I buried myself in the smallest routines I could manage. I didn't visit him. I didn't even ask after him. Every thought of Dae-hyun made my chest tighten like a vise. He had been traumatized, terrified, and I couldn't face being the cause of that fear again.
Then one evening, the knock came. Soft, polite, but deliberate. I froze mid-step in my room, heart hammering. My parents' expressions were unreadable—part irritation, part expectation.
"Woo-jin," my father began, voice clipped. "Sit down. There's someone here to speak with you."
I swallowed hard, resisting the urge to run back into my solitude. My mother's sharp glare urged compliance.
At the door stood a man I recognized immediately. His posture, his sharp suit, the calm authority in his gaze—it was unmistakably Dae-hyun's father. Beside him, a woman I had seen only in glimpses at social gatherings: Dae-hyun's mother. They were here for me.
"Woo-jin," the father said, his tone measured but firm, "we've come with a proposition. You know our son. You've known him for years. It's time you and Dae-hyun… settle this. We want you to marry him. He is a powerful, capable young man. You will be useful… and safe."
I stiffened, my chest constricting. Useful. Safe. Those words, polished and patronizing, felt like shackles rather than promises.
"I… I won't," I said finally, voice steady despite the storm inside me. "I won't be a pawn in anyone's game. I won't… do any dirty work to gain status, or security, or approval. I won't marry him because someone tells me to."
My father snorted, exasperated. "You think you have a choice? We've given you everything. You will comply. You will do as is expected."
"I will not," I repeated, firmer this time, my eyes blazing. "Not now. Not ever. If Dae-hyun comes back to me, it will be on my terms. Not yours. I will not allow you, or anyone else, to manipulate him—or me—for your convenience."
The mother stepped forward, lips pressed into a thin line. "You're going to ruin everything," she hissed. "You'll ruin our family's reputation. Do you understand what that means?"
"I understand perfectly," I replied, unflinching. "And I don't care. I won't compromise myself—or him—for appearances. He deserves better than that. And so do I."
Her hand lashed out suddenly, sharp and stinging across my cheek. The pain burned, but I didn't flinch. I tasted blood, but my resolve held stronger than the sting.
"You dare—" she began, voice trembling with fury.
"I dare," I interrupted, voice calm but icy. "I dare to stand for myself. I dare to stand for him. And if you think a slap, or threats, or manipulations will change that… you are wrong. Completely wrong."
Silence fell. Even my parents' faces softened for a moment, recognizing a determination they hadn't seen in years. But I didn't care about their recognition. I didn't care about anyone but the memory of him—the boy who had once loved me, who had once made me laugh in ways I thought I'd never forget.
"You will not force me into your plans," I added, voice low but resolute. "I will wait. I will endure. And when I return to him… it will be because I choose to, not because of you."
The room felt charged, the air thick with tension. My parents and his parents stared at me, weighing whether my resolve was a temporary tantrum or permanent steel. But I knew. Five years of silence, of pain, of heartbreak—it had forged something unbreakable in me.
No longer would I be weak. No longer would I be guilt-ridden. No longer would I bow to the whims of others.
I was ready.
And I would reclaim him, but it would be on my own terms.
As 3 months passed, I finally agreed.
Right now I'm at Jung's mansion.
The garden smelled of autumn leaves and stone, crisp air brushing my face as I strolled along the cobblestone path. The fountain's water shimmered in the moonlight, throwing silver ripples across the surrounding bushes. I spotted him immediately.
My first meeting with Dae-hyun.
This time, I'll act like a different person not some lame weak person.
Jung Dae-hyun. He looked… tense, all rigid lines and sharp green eyes scanning the surroundings like he was about to bolt. My heart gave a little flutter. Thrilling. He looked exactly how I'd imagined: controlled, wary, perfectly handsome.
I perched on the stone edge of the fountain, letting the moonlight catch my pink hair. Turquoise eyes wide, I forced a sweet, innocent smile, the kind that could make anyone drop their guard.
"Oh," I said softly, as if surprised. "You must be Dae-hyun." I tilted my head, curious. "You're even more handsome than I expected."
He stiffened. "…And you're even more irritating than I expected," he spat, voice tight.
I let out a quiet laugh, tilting my head in faux hurt. "I'm sorry… Did I do something wrong?" My voice trembled just enough to sound innocent.
His jaw tightened. "Drop the cute face. I don't buy it."
I tilted my head again, letting my expression soften. "You're scary… Are you always this mean to strangers?"
"Only to ones I'm forced to marry," he growled.
I pouted lightly, lips forming a perfect curve of fake disappointment. "But… I thought we could get along. I'm really trying here."
His fists clenched. "First rule. Don't you dare spill your goddamn pheromones. I'm sensitive. Second, don't even think I'll help you with your heats—not that I need help with my rut."
I chuckled softly. "Isn't that the role of an omega and an alpha?" I asked gently, keeping my tone sweet.
His jaw tightened further. "You're wasting your time. I'll never accept you. No matter what you do."
I stood, brushing imaginary dust off my suit, calm and deliberate. "That's fine," I murmured, stepping closer, close enough that our eyes nearly met. "You don't have to accept me now. You will… eventually."
His pulse spiked. "…Is that a threat?"
"Not at all," I whispered, smiled softly, and practiced. "Just a promise."
He recoiled slightly, disgusted and furious, and I held my gaze. I knew exactly what I was doing—this act of sweetness, harmlessness, was a weapon, a way to unsettle him while keeping my true intentions hidden.
The Jung's mansion buzzed like a hive. Servants darted around carrying polished silver trays and armfuls of lilies that smelled almost too sweet. My mother had called this a "casual breakfast," which, in Kang family language, meant every move is being watched, so don't screw it up.
I smoothed my pastel pink hair in the mirror of the guestroom, adjusting my tie for the third time. My reflection smiled back at me, soft and practiced. I hated how hollow it felt.
I should have been thrilled. This was my chance to finally see Jung Dae-hyun up close, to play the dutiful fiancé, to charm his impossible family. And I was thrilled — but underneath that excitement was something colder, heavier. That blank spot in my head. The memories that wouldn't come back no matter how hard I reached for them.
Why does the name Dae-hyun make my chest ache? Why do his eyes flash behind my eyelids when I try to sleep?
I shoved the thoughts down, put my smile back on, and stepped into the sunlit dining hall.
He was already there.
Dae-hyun sat at the far end of the table, posture tense, red hair damp from his shower. Even from here I could feel the wall he'd built around himself. My pulse jumped. He looked exactly as I'd imagined — and yet my gut said I'd known him before. I know him well enough for it to hurt.
I poured tea for his mother, playing the perfect guest. When Dae-hyun finally dropped into the chair opposite me, I let my smile soften just enough to seem genuine.
"I saved you a seat," I said lightly, placing a delicate cup in front of him. "I hope you like green tea?"
His glare could have sliced porcelain. "I'd rather not be manipulated before breakfast."
I tilted my head, lips curling in that sweet smile everyone fell for. "What makes you say that, dear?"
Inside, my heart stung. The word dear had slipped out before I could stop it. Why did it feel familiar, like something I'd called him before?
Before I could recover, the doors opened and the room filled with Kang and Jung relatives. Smiles. Perfume. Whispered gossip. Cameras in the corners — or rather, slim recording drones pretending to be cameras. The whole performance.
"Try not to embarrass yourself," I murmured to Dae-hyun as the servants began pouring tea for everyone. "It won't look good on camera."
He snapped his gaze up at me, and for a second I almost flinched. There was pain behind that glare. Anger, sure, but also pain.
When Mrs. Kang praised me for "adjusting so quickly," I let my cheeks heat in a perfect blush, lowering my eyes in practiced humility. The truth was, my stomach was a knot. I didn't feel like I was adjusting. I felt like I was performing in someone else's life.
Then his voice cut through the chatter.
"So, Woo-jin," he said loudly. "How does it feel, marrying someone who hates omegas?"
Utensils clattered. Silence rippled across the table.
I smiled. Soft. Calm. Inside, a small flicker of sadness rose up, but I buried it. "Oh, I don't mind," I said, meeting his eyes. "Hate usually comes from misunderstanding. And misunderstandings…" My turquoise gaze didn't waver. "…can be corrected."
A polite ripple of laughter passed through the guests. His mother smiled proudly at me. He clenched his fists under the table.
I let a faint pulse of my pheromones drift across the room — not enough to alarm anyone, just enough to shift the air, to remind every alpha here what I really was: dominant, controlled. Dangerous. Even if I was smiling.
When breakfast finally ended, I excused myself to "get some air." I didn't have to wait long before I heard his footsteps.
He cornered me near the terrace. "Drop the act," he snapped. "You think I don't see what you're doing?"
I tilted my head, smiling. "What am I doing, Dae-hyun? Being polite?"
"You're playing everyone. But I'm not falling for it."
I guess I'll just play how he wants. I let the sweetness drain from my eyes. I stepped closer, my voice a low whisper. "Good. I hate easy games."
A sharper thread of pheromones slipped from me, precise and deliberate. His pulse spiked, but he didn't back down.
"You're not fragile," he said tightly staring at me with those blue eyes.
"No," I murmured, brushing an invisible speck from his jacket. My fingers itched — this was too familiar. Too easy. "And you're not as heartless as you pretend."
"Don't test me."
I smiled again, mask sliding back into place. "I'm not testing you, fiancé. I'm just… getting to know you."
"Stay out of my way."
"I can't," I said softly. "I'm your future."
The words came out before I could stop them. Something inside me ached. A memory I couldn't touch, like glass under my fingertips.
He glared at me with his ocean blue eyes, but I saw the flicker of confusion behind his anger. I stepped back, pheromones vanishing. "See you at dinner, Dae-hyun. I'll bring dessert next time."
I walked away, my heart hammering.
Everyone thought I was the manipulative one. Maybe I was. But this ache in my chest, this blank spot in my memory whenever I looked at him — it scared me more than anything. Because no matter how sweetly I smiled, no matter how perfect I acted, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd already lost him once.
And that I might be about to lose him again.
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