Painful, but Desirable

Chapter 1

She enjoyed her time brewing coffee. The slow, gentle drip. Pouring the water and watching the coffee rise—the earthy fragrance filling the café was enough to make her forget her problems for a while. That was the best part.

The small guesthouse-slash-café was tucked in a remote corner of Connemara in western Ireland. It was 40 minutes from the nearest town and aptly named At World’s End. With a blizzard ensuring no one would make that trek today, Hayeon was brewing coffee for only herself.

The snow kept falling. It was like a hole had opened in the sky. They said it was rare to get snow here at all, let alone for it to pile up. The fluffy, sparkling landscape outside was quite a magical sight. Although she felt a little sorry for her boss, Hayeon relished the idea of a day without customers. But the peace didn’t last long.

Outside, the sound of an engine cut through the tranquil world of snow drifts and coffee clouds.

Why would someone come all the way out here on a day like this?

Hayeon craned her neck to see who it was. A yellow taxi idled outside.

Who would take a taxi here from town?

A man stepped out of the taxi into the blustering snow. “That’s weird,” Hayeon said to herself. She checked the note her boss had left and saw that there were no guesthouse reservations for the day. Rifling through the notebook, she noticed there hadn’t been any guests for three days.

Did this guy really just come for coffee?

Before she could finish her thought, the bell jingled, and the wooden door creaked open. “Welcome to At World’s End. It’s really snowing out there,” Hayeon greeted the customer in English before looking up to see who it was.

A man wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase stood by the door. Snowflakes hung in his hair from the short walk from the taxi. Hayeon looked up and met his eyes, shining from below his hair. Her polite smile hardened.

“Annyeong,” he said hello in perfect Korean. Hayeon just gaped at him. His lips curled mischievously as he watched her try to pick her jaw up off the floor.

“I didn’t know you spoke English so well, Hayeon,” he laughed, brushing the snow from his hair. “But then I never did know much about you, did I?”

That laugh. How she’d ached to hear that soft laugh. She didn’t realize how much she’d wanted to hear it… until now. That voice filling the little log cabin café was sweeter than any scent of coffee could ever be. Time stopped. Sound stopped. Nothing else mattered. His laugh cut through her heart in slow motion.

“You’re so quiet,” he said, stepping toward her. He sat down across from the desk where Hayeon stood, dropping his briefcase on the floor. “You didn’t forget how to speak Korean, did you? It’s only been a month!”

The sarcasm knocked some wind into Hayeon, and she managed to choke out a single word.

“Sunbae.”

“So, you do remember me,” he smiled. She clenched her jaw to keep from smiling back.

How could I forget? I’d forget my name before I could forget you.

Sunbae. Doyun sunbae. The love of my life.

As Hayeon drank in the view of the man sitting in front of her, the smile bled from his eyes. His gaze burned her cheeks, already flushed from the heat of the fireplace.

“Did you really think you’d be able to get away from me?” he asked.

“I wasn’t trying to run away,” she said.

His lips curled at her resistance. “If you weren’t running away, why didn’t you tell me where you were going?” he persisted.

He lowered his head and muttered something else. A curse? A sigh? Without realizing it, Hayeon leaned in to hear. Suddenly, he lifted his head and closed the gap between them. She gasped at their closeness—she could feel his breath on the tip of her nose. Hayeon began to step back, but he grabbed her shoulders.

“Don’t go,” he said, holding her in place. Those firm fingertips had once explored her entire body. His touch seared through the fabric of her sleeves, and she felt faint. “Are you trying to run away again?”

“How... How did you find me?” she stuttered.

“I came to see my wife,” he said.

Wife.

That word wrapped its fingers around Hayeon’s throat and squeezed. She had married him. But instead of love, their marriage was a contract. The contract clearly stated that they would part after one year. One year had passed and she left the divorce papers on his desk before she left for Ireland.

“Sunbae, we... we broke up,” she said.

“Yes, we did,” he replied. Before she could ask if he’d seen the divorce papers, he continued, “but I don’t think it’s going to work out. I’m not divorcing you. I can’t divorce you.”

“Sunbae.”

“If you want to divorce me, you’ll have to do it in Korea. We can fight it out in court. Anything! Just come back to Seoul with me,” he demanded. His usual matter-of-fact tone had turned sharp. It didn’t make any sense. Why would Doyun say he didn’t want a divorce?

“Shin Hayeon,” he said as he reached out to stroke her cheek. His tender hand took the edge off his words, and she melted under the warmth of his touch. His fingers traced down her cheek and lifted her chin, his sweet breath caressed her face. “Come back to me. It’s where you belong.”

Hayeon’s eyes welled with tears. But before they could spill over, he kissed her. His lips burned against hers. He kissed ferociously—as if he wanted to swallow her whole. As always, she was totally disarmed. His hand swept down her neck toward her chest, and pleasure engulfed her body as quickly as a flame.

Cradling her head in his hands, Doyun slowly pulled his lips from hers and whispered, “Please? Please, Hayeon.” His breath was hot with longing. His plea released the tears from her eyes.

“Come back with me,” he said. He was a coward. “Come back to me.”

You know I can’t say no to you! Why won’t you let me go? You don’t love me. You... You can’t love me. Why? Why are you doing this to me?