Suho sat in the conference room while his team discussed the New York outlet opening scheduled for next week. Voices moved around him, slides changed on the screen, plans unfolded one after another, but none of it truly reached him.
His focus kept slipping. Morning kept replaying itself like a wound that refused to close.
Yerin's tears. The way her voice cracked when he raised his own. The disbelief in her eyes. The pain he had caused without ever meaning to.
They stirred something deep inside him, heavy and uncomfortable. Guilt, responsibility, concern, all tangled together. And yet, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't push away the other presence living inside him.
Hauen.
She existed in every breath he took. In every pause between thoughts. Her absence pressed against his ribs, making it hard to breathe.
He felt squeezed between two walls, closing in.
How was he supposed to resolve this? How could he make Yerin understand what he himself didn't fully understand yet, that his heart no longer listened to logic? How could he stop her from hurting herself more without lying to his own heart?
He might not feel the same way for her anymore. That truth sat painfully clear. But he cared for her. Deeply. And the thought of hurting her was unbearable.
His chest tightened.
Suddenly, his phone buzzed.
Suho flinched, an instinctive, sharp reaction that drew confused looks from his team. The room fell slightly quieter.
"Excuse me," he said calmly, masking the storm inside.
He picked up his phone. Caller ID: Haraboji.
A slow sigh left his lips.
"You all continue," he added, standing up. "Update me with the final output."
Without waiting for a response, he walked out of the conference room, the glass door closing behind him, leaving business on one side, and a tangled, aching heart on the other.
He stepped out into the corridor and answered the call.
"Yes, Haraboji."
"What am I hearing, Suho?" his grandfather's voice thundered through the line, barely restrained. "Did you really bring those traitors into your house?"
Suho closed his eyes. He had known this was coming.
"Speak up," Haraboji snapped. "Have you lost your mind?"
"It's not what you think—"
"Then what is it?" Haraboji cut him off sharply. "How can you be so foolish? How can you make such decisions? How can you shelter a snake even after it has bitten you?"
Suho inhaled deeply.
"Haraboji…" he said, steady but firm. "They are not proven guilty. The accusations are still just accusations. And besides Hauen's da—"
"Don't take her name," Haraboji barked.
Suho clenched his jaw.
"Please listen to me patiently, Haraboji," he said, his voice rising despite himself, respect still intact but strained.
Silence followed. Heavy. Tense.
Suho continued, words rushing now. "Mr. Kang tried to take his own life because of these baseless accusations. Do you understand that? These speculations turned their lives into hell."
His breath trembled.
"He lost everything," Suho said. "His business. His reputation. His children. Even the right to live peacefully in this society."
His voice cracked despite his effort to control it.
"What is their fault, Haraboji?" he asked softly, painfully. "Why do they have to suffer like this, in this age… in this world?"
The question hung between them, raw, unanswered, burning.
"They raised traitors," Haraboji growled. "That is why they deserve this."
"Do they have to pay for it with their lives, Haraboji?" Suho asked quietly.
Silence followed. Thick. Heavy.
"I don't know how you'll take this," Suho continued, his voice steadier now, conviction anchoring it, "but the Kang family has not been proven guilty. We don't have the right to label them culprits. And yet, they are already paying the price… physically, emotionally, mentally."
He inhaled slowly.
"Hauen is still my wife. And Mr. and Mrs. Kang are still my in-laws. In that vulnerable moment, I did what any son-in-law would do. And for your information, Haraboji, I didn't use a single penny from Kim's assets to help them."
A pause.
"Please try to understand the situation."
On the other end, Haraboji remained silent for a long moment. No anger. No rebuttal. Just measured breathing.
Suho waited.
He knew he had spoken too much. Yet he didn't regret a single word.
Finally, Haraboji spoke.
"Alright," his voice came calm, controlled. "We'll close the case against the Kang family. Let them live their lives peacefully."
Suho's breath loosened slightly.
"But," Haraboji added, his tone sharpening just enough to remind him who he was, "as my grandson… promise me one thing, Suho."
Suho straightened instinctively, listening carefully.
"You're cutting all ties with them," Haraboji said, his voice absolute. "And once you return from the New York event, you will marry Seo Yerin."
"Haraboji, wh—"
"No arguments," Haraboji cut him off coldly. "I want my family to be stable. Untainted. You will sever every connection with the Kang family, and in return, I'll let them live in peace."
Suho's heart stopped.
The words pierced him, one after another, like a blade carving Hauen out of his life. Every memory. Every trace. Every breath she still lived in within him.
"Haraboji…" he whispered, his voice barely holding together.
"You have two options, Suho," Haraboji continued, unmoved. "Choose Yerin, and the Kang family live. Or refuse… and I will make sure they suffer far worse than they already have."
A pause.
"Choose wisely."
The line went dead.
Suho stood there, phone pressed against his ear, long after the call had ended. His chest felt hollow, like something vital had been ripped out. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
One choice demanded his heart. The other demanded his soul.
Hauen's face flashed before his eyes. Her smile. Her voice calling him Teddy. The promise she had made, the life she had rebuilt for him.
And then came the image of Mr. Kang, broken, drained, standing at the edge of life itself.
Suho slowly lowered the phone.
For the first time in his life, he realized the truth.
No matter what he chose now… He was going to lose someone.
And this time, there would be no way to save them all at once.