CHAPTER 7:CRY. BEG. APOLOGIZE
932 Words
Taewook’s words were still ringing in my head as Joon dropped me off at Cafe Mille.
Same cafe. Different war.
It was 2PM. Empty. Just like yesterday.
Jihye was already there. Hair perfect. Eyes red. Acting.
“Soyeon!” She stood the second she saw me. Arms open. Tears falling on cue.
I let her hug me. Her perfume was the same. Vanilla. Guilt.
In my past life, I would’ve hugged her back and told her everything.
This time, I let my shoulders shake. I made my voice small.
“Jihye… I’m so scared,” I whispered.
Her grip tightened. She thought she won.
“Oh baby, it’s okay,” she said, pulling me to the table. “Tell me what happened. Minho said you fell down the stairs? Were you with him? Is it true you’re married to his uncle??”
I sat. Hands trembling. The recorder pen was in my palm, hidden under the table.
“Please… don’t tell anyone,” I choked out. “I didn’t mean to. He found out about us. About you and Minho. He’s angry. He said he’ll ruin us both.”
Bingo.
Her eyes flickered. Just for a second. Guilt. Fear. Then it was gone.
“Soyeon, listen to me,” she leaned in. Voice low. Sweet. Poison. “You need to leave him. He’s dangerous. Minho loves you. We can fix this. Just sign some papers for me, okay? It’s just to protect your mom’s company. From him.”
There it was. The fraud papers. 5 years early.
I dug my nails into my palm so I wouldn’t smile.
“P-papers?” I stuttered. “I-I can’t. Taewook watches me. He checks my bag every night.”
Jihye’s mask slipped. Just a little. “Then meet me again. Tomorrow. At my apartment. No one will know.”
I nodded. Fake tears falling for real this time. Not for her. For 24-year-old me.
“I’m so stupid, Jihye,” I sobbed. “I trusted him. I trusted you. I don’t know what to do.”
Her hand covered mine. Cold.
“You’re not stupid. You’re just in love with the wrong man.”
The door slammed open.
Minho.
He looked like hell. 5 days of no sleep. Eyes bloodshot. Suit wrinkled.
“Let go of her,” he growled at Jihye.
Jihye jumped back like she was burned. “Minho! What are you doing here?”
“I followed you,” he snapped. Then his eyes landed on me.
He froze.
For 1 second, he just stared. Like he was seeing a ghost.
Because he was.
“You’re alive,” he whispered.
I lifted my chin. Stopped crying. The 19-year-old act? Over.
“Unfortunately for you,” I said.
Minho stepped closer. “You think marrying my uncle makes you safe? He’s using you. Just like I did.”
“Maybe,” I said. I stood up. Slow. “But he’s not the one who pulled the trigger.”
His face went pale.
“How do you—”
“Know?” I finished for him. I pulled the recorder pen out from under the table. Held it up. Red light blinking.
Jihye gasped. Minho lunged.
I was faster. I threw my coffee in his face. Hot.
He stumbled back, cursing.
“You b***h!”
“Careful,” a voice said from the doorway.
Taewook.
Suit perfect. 2 guards behind him. Calm as hell.
He walked in like he owned the place. Because he did.
“Touch my wife again,” he said, eyes on Minho. “And I’ll make sure the only thing you pull for the rest of your life is a prison blanket.”
Minho wiped coffee from his face. Tried to look brave. Failed.
“This is illegal,” he said. “Recording without consent.”
“No,” Taewook said. “Korea is a one-party consent country. And she’s a party.”
He took the pen from me. Put it in his pocket.
“Jihye,” he said. “Fraud. Conspiracy. You’re 22. You’ll do 3 years minimum. Unless…”
Jihye started shaking. “U-unless what?”
“Unless you cooperate,” Taewook said. “Give me Minho. I give you immunity.”
Minho turned on her. “Jihye, don’t you dare—”
“Shut up,” Jihye screamed. She was crying for real now. “You promised me money! You promised we’d be together! You used me too!”
She grabbed her bag and ran.
Minho looked at me. Then at Taewook.
“You ruined me,” he said.
“No,” I said. “You ruined yourself 5 years ago. I’m just collecting.”
Taewook put a hand on my shoulder. Not possessive this time. Protective.
“Joon,” he said. “Take Mrs. Kang home.”
As I walked past Minho, I stopped.
“Oh,” I said, soft. “By the way. The red dress? I burned it.”
His eyes widened. He remembered.
I left him standing there. Shaking.
In the car, I finally breathed.
Taewook was quiet for a while. Then:
“You didn’t cry,” he said.
“I did,” I said. “Just not for her.”
He nodded. Like he understood.
“You were good,” he said. “Too good for 19.”
“I told you,” I said. “I’m 19 with the memories of dying at 24.”
He looked out the window. Then back at me.
“Partner,” he said.
It sounded different this time. Not business. Not cold.
Like a promise.
- Writer
