The night bled slowly against the apartment window, like rain that refused to stop.Seoul's skyline shimmered faintly in the distance, while Han Serin stared at her phone vibrating endlessly.Notifications, headlines, comments — all in one relentless stream:her name.And Kang Jaehyun's beside it.
"Han Serin confronts her ex-fiancé at AUREX Headquarters!"
"CEO Kang shows protective gesture—is their marriage more than business?"
"Daesan Group declines to comment on the incident…"
Serin turned the screen off. Reading further would only bruise what was left inside.Yet silence had a way of echoing louder than words.She gazed at her reflection in the glass — a woman who once fled an altar, now standing between two corporate empires.
She wondered, When did my life become everyone else's spectacle?
Footsteps sounded softly from the living room.Kang Jaehyun had just returned — his white shirt slightly wrinkled at the sleeves.He stopped by the doorway, his gaze landing briefly on her.
"The news is too loud," he said quietly. "You don't need to read it."
Serin didn't look back. "You did, didn't you?"
"Every headline that has my name," he replied.His tone was calm — too calm — but beneath it lingered exhaustion."And every time I read one, I start wondering if they know me better than I know myself."
She turned to him then.For the first time, she saw something fragile beneath his composure —a fracture in the man who built walls around himself.He sat down across from her, eyes tracing the lights beyond the glass.
"I used to think silence could protect me," she murmured."But silence only lets others write your story for you."
Jaehyun placed a tablet on the table.The screen showed clips of their confrontation earlier that day.Serin looked poised in the footage — but the comment section beneath it was brutal.
"You looked strong there," Jaehyun said softly. "Too strong, maybe."
A faint smile curved her lips. "Strength is an illusion. I'm just too familiar with fear."
The room fell quiet.Then Jaehyun's voice dropped lower.
"Serin, do you regret signing that contract?"
The question lingered like a note that refused to resolve.After a pause, she whispered,
"I don't know. But for the first time… I don't feel like I'm facing the world alone."
Something flickered in his gaze — barely perceptible, but real.The walls around him didn't collapse, but they shifted.He looked out the window, city lights gleaming across his eyes.
"The world always needs someone to break," he said."But I won't let them break you."
Serin lowered her gaze. She didn't respond,but the rhythm of her heartbeat betrayed her silence —a quiet, unspoken change.Outside, the rain still whispered,and in that whisper, something began to heal.