Prologue
The rain didn’t fall.
It crashed.
Against the pavement. Against the glass. Against everything that dared to stand still—just like the storm raging inside Min Sojin.
She stood under the dim streetlight, its flickering glow doing nothing to warm the cold that had settled deep in her chest. Her fingers curled tightly around her bag strap, knuckles pale, shoulders stiff.
She shouldn’t have come.
But she did.
Because she had seen something she couldn’t unsee.
And now, she needed to hear him lie.
Footsteps echoed behind her.
Slow. Familiar.
Dangerous.
“You called me out here,” his voice cut through the rain, calm—but edged with irritation. “What’s so urgent?”
Sojin didn’t turn immediately.
She closed her eyes for a second, inhaling sharply, as if bracing herself for impact. When she finally faced him, her expression was unreadable.
Jeong Junghyun stood a few steps away, rain soaking through his dark clothes, hair slightly damp, eyes fixed on her with confusion that quickly turned into frustration.
“You’re just going to stand there?” he asked. “Or are you planning to explain why I had to cancel everything to come here?”
Cancel everything.
Of course.
He always had something more important.
Something—or someone.
A quiet laugh slipped past her lips.
Junghyun frowned. “What’s funny?”
Sojin shook her head slowly. “Nothing. It’s just… ironic.”
“Ironic?” he repeated, clearly losing patience. “Sojin, stop talking in riddles.”
She looked at him then.
Really looked at him.
The same sharp features. The same eyes that used to soften when they met hers. The same voice that once felt like home.
And yet—
Right now, he felt like a stranger.
“You’re good,” she said softly.
Junghyun blinked. “What?”
“Acting,” she clarified, tilting her head slightly. “You’re really good at it.”
A beat of silence.
Then—
“…What are you talking about?”
There it was again.
That tone.
Like he had no idea what she meant.
Like she was the one being unreasonable.
Her chest tightened.
Of course he’d act like that.
Of course he wouldn’t admit it.
Why would he?
“You don’t have to explain anything,” she said, her voice dropping into something colder.
Junghyun let out a breath, dragging a hand through his hair. “Explain what, Sojin? You dragged me out here in the middle of the night, and now you’re throwing random accusations without even making sense.”
Accusations.
So that’s what this was now.
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
“I’m not accusing you of anything.”
“Then what is this?” he gestured between them, frustration slipping through. “Because right now, it feels like you’ve already decided something—and I don’t even know what it is.”
Say it.
The voice in her head was loud.
Say what you saw.
Say his name.
Say her name.
Say the truth.
She could.
She could tell him exactly what she saw earlier that evening—
The way he stood too close to that girl.
The way his hand brushed against hers.
The way they laughed like nothing else existed.
She could ask him why.
She could demand answers.
She could break.
But she didn’t.
Because if she said it out loud…
She would have to hear the truth.
And she wasn’t sure she could survive that.
So instead—
She chose silence.
“I think I’ve seen enough,” she said.
Junghyun’s brows furrowed. “Seen what?”
Her gaze flickered for a second.
Then steadied.
“You really want me to spell it out for you?” she asked quietly.
“Yes,” he snapped. “Because clearly, I’m missing something.”
A pause.
The rain grew louder.
Her heartbeat even louder.
But her pride—
Loudest of all.
“No,” she said.
Junghyun stared at her like she’d lost her mind.
“…What?”
“You don’t deserve an explanation,” she added, her tone sharper now. “Not after what I saw.”
His expression changed instantly.
Confusion cracked into disbelief.
“What you saw?” he repeated. “So this is about something. Then just say it!”
“I don’t need to,” she shot back. “You should already know.”
That did it.
Something in his expression hardened.
“Wow,” he let out a dry laugh. “So you’re just going to assume things and expect me to read your mind?”
“I’m not assuming anything,” she said, stepping back slightly. “You just weren’t careful enough.”
The words hung in the air.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
Junghyun went still.
For a second—just one—there was a flicker of something in his eyes.
Not guilt.
Not quite.
But enough to make her chest ache.
“What does that even mean?” he asked, his voice lower now, more controlled.
Sojin didn’t answer.
Because answering meant breaking.
And she refused to be the one who broke first.
“I get it now,” Junghyun said slowly, nodding to himself. “You saw something, made up your own story, and decided I’m the villain.”
Her jaw tightened. “I didn’t make anything up.”
“Then prove it,” he challenged. “Say it. Tell me exactly what you think you saw.”
Say it.
Say it.
Say it.
Her lips parted—
Then closed again.
Because suddenly, she wasn’t sure.
And that terrified her more than anything.
Junghyun noticed.
Of course he did.
A bitter smile formed on his lips. “That’s what I thought.”
Her chest burned.
“Don’t,” she warned.
“Don’t what?” he stepped closer. “Call you out? You’re the one who came here with this attitude, acting like I did something unforgivable, and now you can’t even say it out loud?”
“I don’t need to!” she snapped, her voice finally cracking.
Silence fell.
Sharp.
Cutting.
“I don’t need to,” she repeated, quieter this time. “Because I saw enough.”
Junghyun stared at her for a long moment.
Then he laughed.
Not softly.
Not kindly.
But hollow.
Cold.
“If that’s how little you trust me,” he said, shaking his head, “then maybe this isn’t worth it.”
The words hit harder than she expected.
But she didn’t show it.
“Maybe it isn’t,” she replied.
Neither of them meant it.
But neither of them took it back.
“Fine,” he said, his voice dropping into something distant. “Then let’s not drag this out.”
Her heart skipped.
Just for a second.
“Let’s end it here,” he added.
The world seemed to pause.
Just for a moment.
Sojin swallowed.
This was it.
The moment where she could fix everything.
Say the truth.
Ask the question.
Break down.
Choose him.
But instead—
“Okay.”
One word.
That was all it took.
Junghyun’s expression went completely still.
Like something inside him had just… shut down.
“…Okay?” he repeated.
She nodded.
Because if she hesitated—
She would lose.
And she couldn’t lose.
Not like this.
“From now on,” he said, his voice quieter but sharper than before, “don’t come looking for me.”
Each word felt deliberate.
Final.
Sojin held his gaze.
Just for a second.
Trying to memorize him.
Trying to hate him.
Trying to not love him.
Then—
She turned away.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Each one heavier than the last.
The rain blurred her vision, or maybe it was something else.
She didn’t stop.
Didn’t look back.
Because if she did—
She would run back to him.
And she couldn’t afford that.
Not after everything.
Not after choosing her pride over the truth.
Not after walking away from the person who once meant everything.
And as she disappeared into the rain—
She didn’t realize…
That this wasn’t just the end of their story.
It was the beginning of something far more complicated.
Because weeks later—
She would find out…
She hadn’t left alone.
