The world inside the car was a suffocating blur of tears and shared breath. Doyun's gaze was locked on Chae-won's lips, the
ghost of his past finally losing its grip to the living, breathing woman in front of him. He leaned in, the space between them vanishing—
BEEEEEEEP!
A massive delivery truck roared past, its horn a violent, jagged blade that sliced the
moment in half. The car rocked slightly from the wind of the passing vehicle, and the sudden glare of its headlights filled the cabin.
The spell didn't just break; it shattered.
Doyun recoiled, his back hitting the driver's side door. He looked at Chae-won—at her tear-streaked face and the lipstick still
clutched in her hand—and his expression turned into something unrecognizable. It wasn't anger anymore; it was a chilling, hollow emptiness.
Without a single word, he slammed the car into gear. The tires screeched as he pulled back onto the road, his eyes fixed forward, never once glancing at her. The silence was louder than the engine.
Ten minutes later, the bright, sterile neon lights of a Metro Station appeared ahead. Doyun pulled the car into the curb with
jarring precision. The locks clicked open—a sharp, mechanical sound that felt like a slap.
"Get out," he said. His voice was flat, devoid of any of the heat from moments ago.
Chae-won stared at him, her hand trembling on the door handle. "Doyun-ssi, it's nearly midnight. Are you really just leaving me here?"
Doyun didn't look at her. He stared straight through the windshield at the station entrance. "The last train leaves in five minutes. Take the lipstick with you. I don't want to see it—or you—again."
As soon as her feet hit the pavement, the door slammed shut. She stood on the deserted sidewalk, the cold wind biting at her skin, watching the red taillights of his car disappear into the city traffic.The drive back was a blur of blurred streetlights and white-knuckled grip. Doyun pushed the car far past the speed limit, the engine's roar the only thing drowning out the sound of Chae-won's crying in his head.
Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into the underground parking of his luxury apartment complex. He stepped out of the vehicle, his movements jagged and restless. He tossed the keys to the night guard without a word or a glance, his shadow stretching long and dark across the concrete floor.
The elevator climbed in a deafening, metallic silence. 11th Floor.
The doors chimed and slid open directly into his penthouse. The entire floor was a sprawling, minimalist tomb of glass, marble, and shadows. He didn't turn on the lights. He didn't need them. He strode into the center of the hall, his chest heaving as the weight of the night finally crushed him.
The sight of the empty, perfect apartment—so different from the chaos in his heart—was the final straw.
"Dammit!"
With a guttural roar, Doyun swung his fist down with everything he had.
CRASH.
The massive tempered glass table in the center of the hall shattered. Shards exploded like diamonds in the dark, raining down onto the hardwood floor. He didn't pull back. He let his hand sink into the jagged mess, the sharp sting of the glass cutting into his skin finally providing a physical pain to match the agony in his chest.
He stood there over the wreckage, blood dripping from his knuckles and mixing with the shattered glass, breathing heavily in the dark. He had tried to bury her memory, but tonight, Chae-won had dug it all back up.