That night, Suho couldn't bring himself to stay near her. Dinner passed in polite silence, too calm, too normal, as if pretending could make tomorrow easier. Hauen smiled softly at something Bora said, her laughter faint, but all Suho could think of was that this might be the last time I hear it here.
His heart thudded painfully in his chest. So before his emotions betrayed him, he stood up and muttered something about pending office work. "Good night," he said quickly, avoiding her eyes, forcing a tight smile.
He left before she could notice the tremor in his voice.
The moment his bedroom door shut, his chest caved in. All the restraint he had built, the calm, the distance, the self-control, shattered. His breath hitched. Then tears fell. First slow, then heavy, desperate.
He locked the door and stumbled into the bathroom, gripping the sink with trembling hands. "Why does it hurt so much…" he whispered under his breath, his voice cracking as if answering himself. He didn't know if he was crying for what he'd lost, or what he was about to lose again.
His sobs filled the small room, the kind that came from the gut, silent at first, then breaking through all the walls he'd built. He cried until his throat burned, until there was nothing left but exhaustion.
When he came out, his eyes were red and swollen. He sank onto the bed, body heavy, soul heavier. He wanted to be near her tonight, one last time, just sit beside her, talk nonsense, maybe laugh one last time, and have a drink before goodbye. But his heart didn't let him. If he saw her again, he knew he wouldn't be able to hide anymore.
He reached for his phone instead. He unlocked his phone and began scrolling through the gallery. Their photos, each one a memory that now felt like a knife to the heart.
There were pictures from the hospital, snapshots from his therapy sessions, and a selfie at their favorite restaurant. One photo of her he had taken secretly to tease her later, while she was busy taking a huge bite of her burger. Another was a video of her mimicking his slow walk, laughing uncontrollably. Then a video of her drunk singing off-key, eyes half-closed but full of joy.
A faint, broken smile touched his lips, but it faded as quickly as it came.
Then he stopped. His finger hovered over an old video, one he hadn't dared to open in months. It was from the time when Hauen had been pregnant, when she'd been dealing with morning sickness and mood swings. He remembered promising their unborn baby that he wouldn't eat pork belly until the baby allowed it. Her dramatic cry echoed in that video, him placing his hands on her belly, promising their baby. The way they were playing the role of father and mother of their unborn child.
His chest tightened so hard it felt difficult to breathe. Tears spilled again, quiet, helpless. He turned off the phone and pressed it to his heart as if holding her through it..
Tears blurred his vision as the memory played before him, a memory of a happiness that never lasted. He had already lost their baby. And tomorrow… he was going to lose her too.
The thought crushed him. His breathing grew uneven as tears poured down again, unstoppable this time, until all he could do was lie there, heartbroken, trembling, and alone.
He knew it now, clearly, painfully. He wanted her. He wanted her love, her warmth, her presence beside him every day. He wanted her laughter echoing through his home, her voice greeting him in the mornings, her touch calming him at night. He wanted to live that simple, quiet domestic life with her, an ordinary, yet beautiful forever with her, not as part of an act, but for real.
But fear chained him. He was too afraid, too much of a coward, to say it out loud. What if confessing ruined everything? What if she walked away for good like Yerin did? The thought tore him apart.
The pain in his chest grew unbearable. His shoulders shook as he cried, helpless and broken. Somewhere between the silence and his sobs, the truth sank in: he had fallen in love with her. Slowly, deeply, without even realizing it. And now… he was terrified of losing her forever.
That night, Suho cried until sleep finally took pity on him, leaving the quiet room heavy with the sound of what could have been.
The Goodbye Morning
The next morning came too soon.
The air in the penthouse felt unusually still, like even the walls knew someone was about to leave.
Suho sat on the edge of his bed, his eyes fixed on the window, watching the faint sunlight filter through the curtains.
He should've felt better; his legs no longer ached as much, and his body was getting stronger with each passing day. But today, something else hurt, something deeper.
He knew why. Last night, even after crying his heart out, the pain hadn't lessened; it had only grown heavier. Every passing minute, the thought of her leaving gave him anxiety. He could already hear her faint voice outside, talking to Mr. Lee and Bora… and the realization hit hard: today would be the last time her voice echoed in this house.
He rubbed his tired eyes and forced himself up, heading toward the bathroom. He couldn't keep hiding from her forever. She would notice, and it would only hurt her more. He had to at least say goodbye.
Turning on the shower, he stepped under the stream of hot water, letting it run down his back. The warmth eased the stiffness in his body, but not the ache in his chest. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to wash away the fear and pain, trying to feel human again before facing her one last time.
Finally, the time has come. Suho stood near the window of the living room, watching nature come alive as usual. The sound of her footsteps echoed softly behind him, light, familiar, yet today they sounded like they were walking away.
He turned slowly. There she was, a simple white top and soft blue jeans, her hair falling freely on her shoulder. She looked calm, but her eyes… her eyes betrayed the quiet storm inside her.
"Morning," she said softly.
He nodded, his throat too tight to respond.
She handed him the contract papers, along with their wedding ring and divorce papers, "I have signed them."
he opened the paper, his heart broke, to look at her signature.
"You're leaving so early?" Suho finally managed, forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Yeah," she said, her voice low. "Thought it's better to go before traffic gets bad."
He nodded, staring at the floor, not able to meet her eyes. He had rehearsed this moment all night, how he would smile, say thank you, wish her well, but now, every word felt like a broken glass piece in his throat.
Hauen glanced around the house; every corner held a memory. The couch where they used to drink, talking about their life, sharing pain, laughing. The kitchen where she'd cooked late-night ramen. The garden where they spent time together while him trying to walk. Every inch of this place felt alive with him.
And now she was walking away from it. From him.
Bora stood behind her, pretending to be fine, though her eyes were already red. The house felt smaller, heavier.
"Bora," she said gently, turning to her. "You'll take care of him, right?"
Bora nodded, her lips trembling. "Yes, mam."
Hauen smiled faintly. "Thank you… for everything."
Bora couldn't hold it anymore. She quickly hugged her, whispering, "I'll miss you, ma'am."
Hauen's heart clenched. She smiled through the ache, patting Bora's back softly. "I'll miss you too, Bora."
When she turned, Suho was still standing there, hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on the ground.
There was a silence between them, thick and unbearable.
"So…" she said quietly, walking toward him. "Take care of yourself, okay? Don't skip medicine, and don't be too harsh on your legs. Slow progress is still progress."
He nodded, staring at her face like trying to memorize every line. "I know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"And don't forget to eat on time," she added, trying to sound light. "You still forget when you are drowned in office work, until I'm not yelling at you."
That made him smile weakly. "Guess I'll have to imagine your scolding voice then."
She smiled too, small, sad, tired. "Guess so."
There was a pause, the kind that makes the heart ache. He took a step forward. "Hauen…"
She looked up, her heart pounding.
He wanted to say Don't go. He wanted to ask her to stay, to tell her he wasn't ready for this house to lose her laughter, her presence, her warmth.
But all that came out was.., "Thank you… for everything."
Her chest tightened. She forced a smile, her eyes shimmering. "You don't have to thank me, Suho. You did your part, too."
He shook his head slightly, voice trembling, "You changed everything here… including me."
She blinked hard, trying to stop the tears. "Then my job's done, now," she whispered.
They stood there for a long second, the air heavy, their hearts louder than their words.
She noticed his uneasy silence, his swollen eyes that looked like he hadn't slept, like he'd cried the whole night. As if he had missed her… as if he didn't want her to leave. As if he was feeling the same ache she felt for him. But she wanted to hear it from him, to know for sure.
Her eyes lingered on him, searching, hoping, begging, one last time.
Say it, Suho… just once. her heart screamed.If your heart aches the way mine does, if you want me to stay, just say it.One word, that's all it takes. And I swear, I'll never walk away. Not in this lifetime, not in any.
But no words came from his lips. Only the quiet between them, heavy, trembling, filled with everything he wanted to say but couldn't. He just stood there, trying to hide the storm inside him, while she hoped to break the silence.
Finally, she picked up her handbag. "Bye, Suho."
His lips parted, but no sound came.
Inside, his heart screamed Stay Hauena...
Every heartbeat begged him to confess I love you.
But all that escaped from his lips was a broken whisper,"Bye, Hauen."
She smiled one last time, small, brave, heartbreakingly soft, leaving that last hope, before turning away.
He watched her walk out of the house, her figure getting smaller with each step. His chest felt hollow, his eyes burned, and for a moment, he wished he could run, run after her, tell her the truth, confess his feelings to her, and beg her to stay.
But his legs didn't move.
When the door finally clicked shut, the silence that followed was deafening.
Suho stood there, staring at the empty doorway, the echo of her footsteps still ringing in his ears.
His heart screamed, his inner voice ringing in his ears, "Why didn't you stop her?"