Morning light spills across my face—
too bright, too unforgiving.
For a moment, I don't move.
Then I realize—
I'm curled up against him.
The warmth of the sheets, the closeness, the silence—
all of it a quiet reminder of last night.
And suddenly—
everything comes rushing back.
…
I pull away quickly, sitting up.
No.
I can't stay here.
I grab my clothes, my hands moving faster than my thoughts, trying to put distance between me and everything that just happened.
Before I can stand—
his hand catches my wrist, pulling me back slightly.
"Erika… wait. Just a minute."
His voice—
softer than I expected.
Almost… pleading.
I glance at him.
There's something in his eyes I've never seen before.
Vulnerability.
Like something shifted last night—
and he doesn't want to let it go.
But I do.
I pull my hand free, getting dressed without another word.
No looking back.
No second thoughts.
By the time I step out and into a cab—
it's like I was never there at all.
I step into my house with a heavy heart.
Silence greets me.
Cold. Unforgiving.
My eyes drift to the mirror.
For a moment, I just stand there—
staring.
And what I see…
I hate it.
Not him.
Not last night.
Me.
Because I chose it.
It wasn't the alcohol.
It wasn't him.
It was me—
who walked into it.
Who stayed.
Who didn't stop.
"Damn it…"
The words slip out as my hand lashes forward—
cracking the mirror.
The sharp sound echoes through the empty room.
But it doesn't fix anything.
It never does.
"I never wanted this…"
My voice breaks.
"To end up like this… so dependent… so lost…"
A sob escapes before I can stop it.
Then another.
And another.
They come harder now, louder—
filling the silence that no one else ever does.
Because the worst part?
There's no one here.
No one to say a single kind word.
No one to tell me I'll be okay.
Just me—
and everything I've become.
This isn't me.
It can't be.
I was never like this.
I was the girl who carried warmth in her heart—
a spark that never faded.
Someone who didn't feel this empty.
This… alone.
…
And yet—
look at me now.
Funny how cruel destiny can be.
I never wanted to push Akio away.
I never wanted to end things.
But back then…
I thought letting him go was the right choice.
Better than dragging him into the mess I had become.
Years passed.
Life moved on.
And I convinced myself—
he was just a memory.
Something that would fade with time.
But then I saw him again.
With his family.
His world.
Complete.
Happy.
…
And something inside me broke all over again.
That should have been me.
The thought echoes, sharp and merciless.
If I hadn't walked away…
I would've been the one standing beside him.
The one he came home to.
The one who carried his warmth.
…
But I'm not.
And I never will be.
In the end, all that's left is regret.
And remorse.
…
"Huh… Erika, it's okay. Don't cry."
My voice trembles, barely convincing even to myself.
"You can handle this. It's nothing. Just… calm down."
I take a deep breath, forcing everything down—
locking it away before it spills again.
…
And then—
my phone rings.
The sound slices through the silence.
I don't even need to check.
It's my boss.
I answer, pressing the phone to my ear.
"Hello—"
"Where the hell are you?" his voice snaps instantly.
"It's your shift time!"
I shut my eyes, already bracing myself.
"As soon as you needed this job, you made all those big promises—"
he continues, irritation sharp and unforgiving,
"and now you just disappear like this?"
My grip tightens around the phone.
I don't answer.
Because what am I supposed to say?
Sorry?
That I ruined myself last night?
"I'll be there soon."
It's the only thing I manage to say.
Before I can hear his response—
the call cuts.
And just like that—
I'm left alone again.
"Fucking hell… at this rate, I'll die working part-time jobs."
The words slip out under my breath as I rub my temples.
"When am I ever going to pay off all this debt…?"
I let out a frustrated sigh before splashing cold water on my face—
forcing myself to look presentable.
For work.
Because life doesn't pause.
Not for me.
…
The convenience store is quiet when I arrive.
Too quiet.
I take my place at the counter, running on nothing but exhaustion.
A while later, the door chimes.
Two high school girls walk in, laughing softly as they head straight for the shelves.
"Let's just get instant noodles," one of them says. "I'm starving."
They settle near the seating area, their voices carrying easily in the stillness.
And then—
"Hey, did you see that clip of that famous actor?"
My hand stills mid-motion.
"Yeah! Isn't he married?"
"Exactly! And now his hookup video got leaked—like, what the hell?"
"Seriously, that's so disgusting."
Their laughter fades into whispers—
but I don't hear the rest.
Because something in my chest tightens.
Hard.
Like I already know—
this isn't just gossip.
It's something worse.
And then—
I hear the name.
Kaito.
For a second, everything stops.
My blood runs cold.
Senpai… Kaito.
No.
It can't be.
The world tilts beneath me, my grip loosening on the counter as I struggle to steady myself.
My balance slips—
just for a moment.
But it's enough.
Because suddenly—
nothing feels stable anymore.
My fingers tremble as I open the video.
No.
No, no—
"Fuck…?"
The breath leaves my lungs.
It's me.
Everything shatters in an instant.
My world—gone, scrambled beyond recognition in a single second.
"What do I do…?"
My thoughts spiral, crashing into each other, louder and louder.
I scroll through the comments—
and I shouldn't.
I really shouldn't.
But I do.
And it's worse than I imagined.
Everywhere—
accusations.
Disgust.
Hate.
"What kind of asshole cheats on his wife?"
"He looked so perfect… what a lie."
"And that girl—pathetic."
Each word cuts deeper than the last.
My grip tightens around the phone.
Because they're not just talking about him.
They're talking about me.
"Damn it…"
My chest tightens, something heavy sinking deep inside.
"I just… ruined everything."
My dignity.
Myself.
Everything.
I play the video again.
I shouldn't.
But I do.
My breath catches as I watch—
every second of it feeling heavier than the last.
And then I notice it.
My face…
it's not visible.
A small, fragile sense of relief flickers inside me.
Like maybe—
just maybe—
I can still hide from all of this.
But it doesn't last.
Because the shame doesn't disappear.
It stays.
Clinging to me, suffocating.
"Damn it…"
The whisper slips out, bitter and hollow.
Because even if no one else can see me—
I know it's me.
My phone buzzes again.
Unknown number.
For a second, I hesitate.
Then I answer.
"…Hello?"
A pause.
Then his voice—
calm, measured… almost too composed.
"Funny, isn't it?"
I frown slightly, saying nothing.
"People these days…"
he continues, his tone laced with quiet amusement,
"are so quick to lose themselves—"
a brief pause—
"just to feel a little sense of stability."
My grip tightens around the phone.
Something about the way he says it—
it doesn't feel like a random comment.
It feels like he's talking about me.
"Who the hell are you?"
My voice comes out sharper than I expect.
"And why are you talking like you know me?"
A pause.
Then, colder—
"Stop making assumptions about me."
"Enough."
His voice snaps—cold, cutting through everything.
"Do you even understand the mess you've just created?"
A beat.
Then, sharper—
"You didn't just make a mistake."
"You've put Kaito's entire career on the line."
Silence.
Heavy. Suffocating.
"And you're standing there… arguing with me?"
His tone drops, quieter now—
but far more dangerous.
"Get it together."
"Oh yeah?" I snap, my voice shaking despite the anger.
"Then you tell me—what am I supposed to do now?"
A breath, sharp and uneven.
"And don't act like your precious star is innocent either."
"It's not like I forced him into anything."
The silence on the other end feels heavier than his words ever did.
"Just… deal with your own mess."
Before he can respond—
I cut the call.
A chill runs down my spine, my breath hitching as panic creeps in again.
Everything feels too much.
Too fast.
Too overwhelming.
For a second, I think I'm going to break—
right here, right now.
But I don't.
I force it down.
Swallow it whole.
No tears.
Not here.
Not again.
…
By the time I reach the restaurant, I've already locked everything away.
I change into my work clothes, moving on autopilot.
Just another shift.
Just another day.
That's all this is.
…
The door opens.
And for a moment—
I forget how to breathe.
A tall man walks in, his presence commanding, effortless.
Too composed.
Too put together.
For a second, I find myself staring—
taking in the sharp lines, the confidence, the way he carries himself like he owns every space he steps into.
Then I snap out of it.
Focus.
Work.
That's all that matters.
He walks straight to the manager, exchanging a few quiet words.
I don't pay attention.
I don't want to.
But then—
he turns.
And starts walking toward me.
My stomach tightens.
Before I can react—
he's already in front of me.
"Honey," he says, his voice smooth, almost dangerously soft.
"Don't be mad."
And before I can process anything—
his hand slips around my waist, pulling me closer.
I freeze.
Completely caught off guard.
Before I can react—before I can push him away—
he leans in, his breath brushing against my ear.
"Act normal," he murmurs, low and steady.
My body goes rigid.
"I don't want to create a scene."
A pause.
Then, quieter—
but far more dangerous—
"Or do you want everyone here to know that the girl in that video… was you?"
My heart stops.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his grip still firm at my waist.
"No?"
His gaze sharpens.
"Then come with me."
A beat.
"We need to talk."