"I've always been curious about one thing."

  Park Tae-hyun's voice was calm, almost detached, but there was a weight behind it, like he already knew the answer but needed to hear it anyway.

  "Is there someone else in your heart?"

  And then, as if bracing himself, he added, "That someone else can refer to a man or a woman."

  Im Yoo-jin didn't hesitate.

  "Yes."

  A single word.

  Firm. Honest.

  No hesitation, no guilt, no struggle to soften the blow. Just a fact, as clear as the damp night air around them.

  Tae-hyun felt something inside him shift—something small, something he didn't even realize he'd been holding onto.

  A quiet hope, maybe?

  A foolish one.

  He let out a slow breath through his nose. "Oh."

  The word fell flat, barely audible. He tilted his head slightly, as if expecting something—some kind of reaction from himself. Anger? Betrayal?

  Nothing.

  There was no love between them.

  No deep affection.

  Even familiarity felt stretched thin, like a distant echo of a life that no longer belonged to him.

  And yet—

  A dull ache settled in his chest.

  She was still his wife in name, at least.

  And no matter how much he tried to rationalize it, it still felt like a betrayal.

  Because at the end of the day—

  He was a man.

  No—

  Even beyond that, he was human.

  And no one liked being cast aside.

  "I'm sorry."

  Her voice was softer this time. Regretful, maybe. Or just tired.

  It was the second time she'd said it tonight.

  Tae-hyun slowly loosened his grip on her wrist. The warmth of her skin slipped away as the space between them widened.

  A clean break.

  The cold drizzle around them felt heavier now.

  "Saying sorry feels too formal," he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair. He sank onto a low stone pillar nearby, sheltered under the edge of the building.

  The rain had quieted, leaving behind the fresh scent of wet earth and pavement.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "I'll give you some money," Yoo-jin said after a pause. "You can open another bookstore."

  Tae-hyun let out a short laugh—more air than sound.

  She had always been direct. No nonsense, no unnecessary pleasantries. It was just who she was.

  But then she added, softer, "I'm sorry."

  Tae-hyun almost said something reckless.

  Almost waved a hand dismissively and said, Forget it. I don't want your money.

  But then—

  He thought about his freezer.

  The empty shelves in his bookstore.

  The long nights ahead.

  He swallowed the words before they could leave his lips.

  Just in case—

  Just in case she actually took him seriously and didn't give him the money.

  "Let's talk again in a few days," he said instead, shrugging like it didn't matter. "How's that guy?"

  "He's very handsome," she said, without missing a beat. "At least, in my eyes."

  A man.

  Shit.

  Tae-hyun exhaled slowly, forcing his expression to remain neutral.

  Another knife.

  If it had been a woman, maybe he could've laughed about it, shrugged it off, told himself it was just bad luck.

  But a man…

  He closed his eyes briefly.

  Even though it shouldn't have mattered, it still felt like a bruise pressed too hard.

  "There's no chance, is there?"

  The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

  And the moment they did, he regretted it.

  Stupid.

  Weak.

  But deep down, a part of him needed to hear the answer. Not for himself, but for Kim Min-woo.

  Because he had taken over this life.

  And now his wife was looking at another man.

  So, shouldn't he at least ask why?

  "There's no chance," Yoo-jin said.

  No hesitation.

  Her voice was as sharp and steady as the scalpel she used in the operating room.

  Precise. Unwavering.

  Tae-hyun let out a small, bitter laugh.

  That was just who she was.

  A person who didn't waste time on uncertainty.

  A surgeon who never hesitated when making the first cut.

  "Alright, alright," he muttered, rubbing his temple. "We lost. Whatever. We'll live our own lives. Just… handle things with your parents."

  She nodded once, then turned and walked away.

  Tae-hyun stayed where he was, staring at the wet pavement beneath his feet, feeling the weight of something unspoken settle in his chest.

  Then, his phone rang.

  A strange number.

  "Hello?"

  "Sir, I got my car back," a familiar voice said.

  Tae-hyun frowned slightly. It was the same taxi driver from before.

  "That fast?"

  "You left a bag in the back seat. I'll bring it back to you."

  Minutes later, the car pulled up again. The driver leaned out, handing him a woman's handbag.

  "Please check."

  "Got it, thanks."

  Tae-hyun didn't think much of it at first. He unzipped the bag absentmindedly, fingers brushing against a wallet.

  And then—

  He saw the photo.

  He blinked.

  Felt something in his chest tighten.

  A young woman, wearing an oversized white coat, looking slightly awkward, slightly too young.

  And beside her—

  A man.

  Familiar.

  Too familiar.

  His breath hitched.

  It took him a second to process.

  Then—

  Oh.

  That was him.

  It was a Group Photo of Park Tae-Hyun and the New Interns at the Hospital.

  He vaguely recalled this group, as this was during the summer vacation a few years ago, when this group came in and was under Park Tae-Hyun's Supervision.

  The photo had been cropped. Originally part of a larger group, now just the two of them.

  Tae-hyun stared at it for a long moment, something strange stirring inside him.

  "Sir? Anything else?" the driver asked.

  Tae-hyun barely heard him.

  "No, I'm good. Thanks."

  The car pulled away, leaving him standing there, still gripping the wallet.

  Memories, ones he had never cared to revisit, started surfacing.

  Five, maybe six years ago—

  A group of medical interns had been assigned to him.

  There had been a girl named Im.

  Quiet, eager, a little awkward.

  He barely remembered her.

  He had treated all the interns the same, like disposable hands to do the grunt work.

  And yet—

  She had kept this photo.

  After all these years.

  Tae-hyun let out a small, breathless laugh, shaking his head.

  "So even Yoo-jin was that cute back then, huh?"

  Who would've thought?

  She had grown into a beautiful woman, and back then, he hadn't even noticed her.

  Tae-hyun flicked the wallet in his hand, exhaling sharply.

  "Serves you right for being single at almost thirty," he muttered.

  For once, he wasn't scolding Kim Min-woo.

  He was scolding himself.

  The night air felt heavy. The rain had stopped, but the world still smelled of it.

  He looked up at the gray sky, feeling the quiet settle around him.

  And with a solemn pat to his chest, he whispered,

  "Kim Min-woo… you were my good brother."

  A small, bitter smile tugged at his lips.

  "I'll take care of your life, thank you, brother."

  His voice was quiet.

  "So don't worry."

  As the heavy downpour softened to a gentle drizzle, he observed the slowing pace, a tangible reflection of how life, too, offers these momentary respites after the storm, allowing for a breath, a moment to acknowledge the turbulence that has just run its course.