The tension in the room had already been fragile, stretched too tightly between them for too long, and it finally snapped.
Ethan stepped closer again, trying to stop Yuna before she spiraled further into panic and anger, but she wasn't listening anymore. Everything inside her had reached its limit—the grief, the confusion, the betrayal, the fear of what would happen next. Her breathing was uneven, her eyes red from crying, and when Ethan reached toward her again, trying to calm her, she reacted before thinking.
Her hand struck his face sharply.
The sound echoed through the room.
And then—
Silence.
Complete silence.
Even Yuna froze immediately afterward, as if she couldn't believe what she had just done.
Ethan's head had turned slightly from the impact, but slowly he looked back at her. His expression wasn't angry in the way she expected. It was something colder. Quieter. More dangerous because of how controlled it suddenly became.
Yuna's chest rose and fell rapidly. "Get out," she whispered.
Ethan didn't move.
Her voice broke louder this time. "Get out, Ethan!"
He stared at her for another long second before speaking.
"You're the first person who's ever slapped me, Yuna."
The words were calm.
Too calm.
Yuna blinked, confusion flashing across her face. "What…?"
Ethan laughed once under his breath, but there was no humor in it. Only frustration buried beneath years of restraint.
"You wanted the truth so badly, right?" he asked quietly.
Something about his tone made her stomach tighten.
Ethan stepped closer again.
"I don't love you," he said.
The words hit instantly.
Sharp.
Cold.
Cruel.
Yuna's eyes widened slightly, the color draining from her face as if the air had been ripped out of the room.
Ethan kept going.
"I don't fucking love you," he repeated, harsher this time. "I just want you."
Yuna stared at him in complete shock.
Every emotion inside her stopped at once, replaced by disbelief.
"I lied to you," Ethan continued. "Now what, Yuna? You wanted honesty, didn't you? There it is."
The silence afterward felt unbearable.
Yuna couldn't even process the words immediately. They echoed in her head over and over, refusing to make sense.
I don't love you.
I lied to you.
Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.
Ethan suddenly grabbed her wrist tightly.
Too tightly.
The force startled her completely.
His eyes locked onto hers, dark and unreadable now, all softness gone. "What?" he asked quietly. "Are you going to hit me again, sweetheart?"
That word—
Sweetheart—
Sounded wrong now.
Mocking.
Yuna's breathing became shaky immediately. She tried pulling her hand away, but his grip didn't loosen right away.
"Ethan…" she whispered, fear and hurt mixing together in her voice.
For a second, something flickered across his face.
Regret.
But it vanished just as quickly.
Yuna finally managed to free her wrist from his hand, stumbling back slightly. Her eyes filled instantly with tears again—not from anger this time, but from complete heartbreak.
"You…" her voice broke badly. "You lied…?"
Ethan didn't answer.
That silence confirmed everything.
Yuna pushed him hard with both hands, her body shaking violently now. "Get out!" she cried. "Get out of here!"
This time Ethan moved.
Not quickly.
Not angrily.
He simply stepped back, looking at her one last time.
And what he saw almost broke him.
Yuna looked shattered.
Not furious.
Not hateful.
Just destroyed.
But Ethan forced himself not to react.
Without another word, he turned and walked out of the room.
The sound of the door closing behind him felt final.
Yuna collapsed onto the bed almost immediately after, crying so hard she could barely breathe. Her hands covered her mouth as sobs escaped uncontrollably, every word he had said cutting deeper and deeper inside her mind.
Downstairs, Ethan walked in silence through the empty penthouse.
His expression remained cold until he reached his room.
The moment the door shut behind him, the control in his face cracked slightly.
He walked straight toward the table, grabbing a bottle without hesitation. He poured the drink into a glass roughly, the liquid spilling slightly over the edge from the force of his movements.
Then he drank it in one swallow.
Like he was trying to burn something out of himself.
The glass hit the table hard afterward.
Ethan stood there breathing heavily for a second before grabbing the empty bottle and throwing it across the room violently.
It shattered against the wall instantly.
The sharp sound echoed through the silence.
Ethan closed his eyes tightly, one hand pressing against his forehead as frustration and anger twisted inside him—not toward Yuna.
Toward himself.
He knew exactly what he had done.
And he knew exactly how much it would hurt her.
But he also knew—
If Yuna kept loving him while carrying the pain of her father's death, she would destroy herself trying to choose between them.
So he chose for her.
Even if it meant becoming the villain again.
Ethan let out a slow breath before speaking quietly into the empty room.
"I know this will hurt you, Yuna."
His voice was lower now.
Tired.
Heavy.
"But maybe you'll forget some of the pain about your father."
He leaned back against the table, his eyes darkening again.
"I'll never let you go," he murmured.
The possessiveness in the words wasn't loud.
It was worse because it sounded absolute.
Even after pushing her away.
Even after hurting her.
He still couldn't imagine letting her leave.
"Even if I have to become the person you hate," he whispered.
His jaw tightened slightly.
"Even if I have to tell you cruel truths…"
The room stayed silent around him.
But upstairs—
Yuna was still crying.
And Ethan stood there listening to that silence between them grow heavier and heavier, knowing he had created it himself.
Upstairs, Yuna remained curled against the bed, her hands trembling as she pressed them tightly against her face. She tried to stop crying, tried to breathe properly, but every time she closed her eyes, Ethan's words came back again.
I don't love you.
The sentence replayed over and over until it felt impossible to escape.
Her chest hurt.
Not physically.
Something deeper.
Something heavier.
Yuna slowly lowered her hands, staring blankly at the floor through blurred vision. "Then why…" she whispered weakly to herself, "why did you look at me like that…?"
Nothing made sense anymore.
Not the way he stayed beside her in the hospital.
Not the way he held her when she cried over the baby.
Not the way he watched her when he thought she was asleep.
None of that felt fake.
And yet—
His words had sounded real too.
That was what hurt the most.
The confusion.
The part of her that still wanted to believe him despite everything.
Yuna wiped her tears quickly, almost angrily, shaking her head as if trying to force herself to stop thinking about him. "Stupid…" she whispered at herself. "You're so stupid…"
But more tears came anyway.
Downstairs, Ethan remained standing alone in the dim light of his room. The broken glass still scattered across the floor near the wall, but he ignored it completely. His hands rested against the edge of the table, his head lowered slightly as silence pressed around him.
Then—
A faint sound reached him.
Not loud.
But enough.
Yuna crying.
His eyes closed instantly.
For a second, his body almost moved on instinct toward the door.
Almost.
But he stopped himself.
Because if he went to her now—
Everything he had just done would fall apart.
Ethan clenched his jaw tightly, forcing himself to stay where he was even as guilt twisted painfully inside him. He had spent years controlling situations, controlling people, controlling himself.
But Yuna—
Yuna was the one thing that kept breaking through that control.
He let out a slow breath and leaned back slightly, staring at the dark window ahead.
"You'll hate me for a while," he murmured quietly.
His reflection stared back at him coldly.
"But you'll survive it."
The words sounded more like something he was trying to convince himself of.
Because deep down—
He already knew hurting her had hurt him too.
Upstairs, Yuna slowly lay down again, curling into herself beneath the blanket. Her eyes were swollen, her body exhausted, but sleep wouldn't come.
Not after this.
Not after hearing the one thing she feared most.
And somewhere between anger and heartbreak—
One terrifying thought kept returning to her.
If Ethan truly didn't love her…
Then why did it feel like he was suffering too?