Even after days, I still carry the marks of what happened, not from desire, but from unease.
My phone remains silent.
No message from Jae Min since then.
No attempt to talk about what happened between us, up on that hotel rooftop.

Maybe today, his absence weighs more than usual.
It’s already past lunchtime, and Mr. Seo still hasn’t shown up at Fine Concepts. Not even a call.
That strange sense of emptiness creeps in.
Without his constant summons to the executive floor, to discuss some new project or urgent task, I’ve already completed almost everything on today’s list.

Maybe, just maybe, I’ll get to leave early today.

The thought barely takes shape when the phone rings, cutting it off midair.

Maybe that’s the trick.
I smile at the irony. From now on, all I have to do is think about leaving before 6 p.m., and he’ll magically reappear, like he can read my intrusive thoughts.

I reach for my phone.
An unknown number glows on the screen.
Not him.
Apparently, my boss hasn’t developed telepathic powers yet.

“Isabelle Hart?” The voice on the other end is firm, almost cold.
“This is Seoul University Hospital.”

My heart stops.
A knot tightens in my throat.
The woman continues:

“You are listed as Mr. Seo Joon Hyuk’s emergency contact. We kindly ask that you come to the hospital immediately.”

I don’t ask questions.
I can’t.

I simply get up, grab my bag, and walk out.
The halls of Fine Concepts blur around me.
The elevator feels too slow.
The air, too thin.
My body moves, but my mind is stuck on one sentence:
Emergency contact.

The ride to the hospital feels like a tunnel.
No streets. No signs.
Just the muffled noise of traffic and the erratic beat of my heart.

When I arrive, I head straight to reception. One of the attendants stands as soon as she sees me.

“How can I help you?”

“My name is Isabelle Hart. I’m looking for information about a patient, Seo Joon Hyuk.”

The receptionists exchange glances.
A small gesture. But devastating.
Then one of them says:

“Mr. Seo was admitted alone this morning, around 6 a.m. He was taken in immediately. Please come with me. The doctor is waiting.”

My legs hesitate, but they obey.
White hallways. Closed doors.
The sharp scent of disinfectant.
Everything churns in my stomach.

The doctor waits behind a glass door.
She stands when she sees me and offers a kind smile, but heavy. The kind that prepares you for bad news.

“Miss Hart, I’m Dr. Lee Hye Jin. I’ve been overseeing Mr. Seo’s case.”

“Isabelle Hart,” I reply, trying to steady my voice.

She nods, then speaks plainly.

“This morning, he asked that you be fully informed. And that we… be completely honest.”

I nod, swallowing the panic in my chest.

She reviews the chart calmly.

“Unfortunately, the latest tests confirm that the cancer has progressed significantly. His right lung was already compromised, but now we’ve found metastasis in the mediastinal lymph nodes, and lesions on the liver. The last round of chemotherapy had no effect.”

Being confronted with something I already suspected, but wasn’t ready to hear, is crueler than uncertainty.

“And now…?”
My voice breaks, trembles, barely audible.

“We’re transitioning to palliative care.
It’s no longer about fighting the disease, but about comfort. Managing symptoms. Preserving his dignity.
We still have a little time, but…”

She doesn’t need to finish.

“Is he conscious?”

“Yes. Tired, but lucid. He’s on pain medication, and asked to see you as soon as you arrived. His room is restricted to limited visitors. You may go in whenever you’re ready.”

I stare at nothing for a few seconds.
Everything feels still. Too still. Too unreal.
The ground beneath me has already shattered, and yet, somehow, I remain standing.

“How long… do we have?”

Dr. Lee hesitates. Her gaze softens.

“Weeks. Maybe a few days, if he responds well to the medication. The progression has been very fast.
It’s hard to say. I’m sorry.”

I feel like I’m about to break.

But I inhale deeply. And nod, wordlessly.

She understands.

I walk toward the door, knowing that from this point on, nothing will be the same.

The air in the hallway feels heavy.
The walls press in.
My head throbs, but not more than my chest.
Deep down, I always knew he was hiding something.
But hearing it out loud… makes it real.

I grab my phone with trembling fingers.

Dial Jae Min’s number.

He answers instantly.

“Isabelle?”

He sounds like he was already expecting the call, which would’ve made me feel a thousand things, if this weren’t such a terrible moment.

“Jae Min…” I breathe in, swallowing the sob. “You need to come to the hospital. Now.”

Silence on the other end.

“It’s your father,” I continue. “He’s been admitted. It’s serious.
I can’t do this alone.”

I hear the change in his breath.
Disbelief.
Fear.

“I’m on my way.”

The call drops.
I close my eyes, trying to contain the desperation threatening to spill over.

💔 SYSTEM_FAIL // No more time for silence

I take a deep breath before entering.

The doorknob is cold in my hand.

I open the door.

The room is dimly lit.
The soft beep of the monitors hums like a whisper.
Mr. Seo lies in bed, eyes closed, but he stirs as soon as he senses me.
His expression, though shaped by pain, softens when he sees me.

“Isabelle…”
His voice is faint, raspy, but still carries the steadiness I’ve always admired.

“Hi, Mr. Seo.” I approach slowly and sit beside the bed. “You should’ve told me.”

I try to hide the fear of losing him.
He smiles, that kind of smile only someone who knows their time is short can give.

“You had so much work...” he whispers. “And I needed time... to understand how it all would end.”

“Don’t talk like it’s already over.” My voice wavers. “We’re still here.”

He looks at me.
There’s tired tenderness in his gaze.

“Isabelle… I need to say something before I can’t anymore.” He takes a breath with difficulty. “You’re not just capable. You’re loyal. Strong. The kind of person the world tries to break… but can’t.”

I swallow hard.
My heart pounds like a muted drum inside my chest.
And for the first time, I let slip what I’ve always known, but never dared to say.

“You knew my father, didn’t you? Long before Fine Concepts. That’s why you always treated me with such care… such respect.”

His eyes shimmer. And then, he nods.

“I met your father in the military. We served together when we were young, during those years when the tension between the Koreas still burned quietly.
It wasn’t an open war, but one wrong step could light the whole border on fire.
That place was full of ghosts, Isabelle.
Men too afraid to feel anything.
But your father… he still saw people.”

He closes his eyes, as if reliving the memory.

“He saved me. One night on patrol.
An ambush.
A bullet meant for me, your father took it to the shoulder.
Even wounded, he led us back to base.
I never forgot.
I made a promise that night:
I’d take care of him, or whoever he left behind in this world, if he went first.
And he did.”

Silence.

“You were born here, in this hospital. I remember the night.
I remember when your parents divorced and your mother — strong, determined — took you to London.
You were just ten.
So when I saw your name on the Fine Concepts recruitment list, all those years later...” He smiles, proud. “...I knew right away who you were.
The daughter of the man who saved me.
I had to bring you back.
Bring you home.”

My throat tightens.

“That’s why you trusted me?”

“Not just that.” His eyes lock onto mine.
“You earned every place you’ve reached.
But yes… our story began long before you realized it.
And now… it’s about to change again.”

“You speak as if everything is falling apart.”

“Because it is.
But it’s not the end.”
His smile is weary, but clear.
“And that’s why you need to be where you belong.
With the right person.”

Feelings I can’t name yet stir inside me.
For a moment, we are just two names bound by a history that started before I was even born.

“I saw what happened between you and Jae Min... on the hotel rooftop.”

I freeze. Not because of the memory, but because of his certainty.

“I wasn’t surprised,” he continues.
“I know my son.
He runs from feelings.
He only sees when there’s no way to look away.
And you...
You make people see what they’re hiding from.”

A tear slips before I can stop it.

“I don’t think he sees it that way.”

“He does. He just doesn’t know what to do with it.
You are everything he doesn’t understand.
Please… don’t forget that.”

“This isn’t love. Not a relationship. It was just...”

He lifts a weak hand, interrupting me gently.

“Not yet.
But it could be.”
And those eyes... I’ve never seen them shine like that.

The door opens slowly.

Seo Jae Min walks in, breathless, the weight of the news still etched in his eyes.

Our eyes meet.
No words are needed.
We understand.

I rise.

“I’ll give you two some privacy.”

He doesn’t respond.
Just walks to the bed, as if every step is a struggle.

I leave.
Gently close the door behind me.

I sit on the bench outside.
The walls still feel too narrow.
The floor, too cold.
The people, rushing by too fast.
But I stay there.
Waiting.

Minutes, maybe hours, pass before Jae Min steps out.

“Thank you for calling me,” he says quietly.

I nod.

“I needed to.
I couldn’t face this alone.”

He sits beside me.
We stay in silence.

Then he whispers:

“I didn’t know it would hurt this much...”

Unfortunately, I do.

I turn toward him.
For the first time, unguarded.

Over the last few months, I’ve seen so many faces of Jae Min:
We talked about what happened three years ago.
We fought.
We hurt each other with reckless words.
And we kissed, just to quiet them.

But this Jae Min, vulnerable, is someone new entirely.

“Because we’re never ready.”

He looks at me.
And I see, without a doubt, how broken he is.

“I’m sorry...” he breathes.
“For everything I didn’t understand before.”

“You’ve already said that.”

I don’t say it’s okay.
Because it isn’t.

But I rest my head on his shoulder.

He reaches for my hand, laces our fingers together, and leans his head against mine.

And that…
was the peak of our intimacy.
So far.