POV: Male Lead (Ahn Min-jae)
Jung Ha-neul was ruining him.
And he didn't know how to stop it.
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Falling Apart in Front of Her
Min-jae had spent years perfecting the art of control.
Control over his emotions. Control over his company. Control over his weak heart.
But the moment Ha-neul wrapped her fingers around his hand, everything shattered.
He should have pulled away.
Should have walked off.
Should have reminded her—reminded himself—that they weren't close.
But instead…
Min-jae found himself holding on.
Holding on to her warmth.
Holding on to the one person who wasn't afraid of his darkness.
And for the first time in years, he didn't feel alone.
---
The CEO, the Doctor, and a Quiet Night
They ended up sitting in Min-jae's car.
Not talking. Not arguing.
Just… existing in silence.
Ha-neul sat in the passenger seat, looking at him. Waiting.
Min-jae gripped the steering wheel. Tightly.
"It was my mother's birthday today," he admitted suddenly.
The words felt foreign in his mouth.
Ha-neul blinked. "Your mother?"
Min-jae gave a tight nod. "She died twenty years ago."
Her expression softened.
Min-jae hated that look.
He wasn't some wounded animal in need of pity.
But before he could snap at her, Ha-neul spoke.
"Tell me about her."
Min-jae frowned. "Why?"
She shrugged. "Because I want to know."
He stared at her.
No one had ever asked him that before.
Not his father. Not his employees. Not even his past lovers.
But Ha-neul…
She was genuinely curious.
And Min-jae—against all logic—found himself talking.
---
A Memory That Still Haunts Him
"My mother was the kindest person I knew," Min-jae murmured.
Ha-neul stayed quiet, listening.
"She was beautiful. Strong. Always smiling." He exhaled. "And she always put everyone else before herself."
His fingers tightened on the steering wheel.
"Even when she was dying."
Ha-neul's gaze darkened.
Min-jae let out a humorless chuckle.
"She had a heart condition. A hole in her heart. She was pregnant when she collapsed on the street—while trying to bring me a birthday gift."
Ha-neul sucked in a sharp breath.
Min-jae's voice turned bitter.
"By the time she got to the hospital, it was too late. They could have saved her, but the surgery was delayed." He laughed hollowly. "The doctor in charge thought he had more time. Thought it wasn't urgent enough."
Ha-neul stiffened.
Min-jae turned to her, eyes void of warmth.
"Your father was that doctor."
Ha-neul froze.
---
The Weight of the Past
Min-jae had never said those words out loud before.
Never admitted to hating the man who had let his mother die.
Never admitted that his heart condition was genetic—a reminder that he might meet the same fate.
He expected Ha-neul to defend her father.
To deny it.
To walk away.
But instead, she looked… guilty.
Like she was carrying the weight of his pain, too.
"...I didn't know," she whispered.
Min-jae scoffed. "Of course, you didn't."
Ha-neul's hands curled into fists. "Min-jae, I—"
He turned away. "It doesn't matter."
She grabbed his wrist.
"It does," she said fiercely. "It matters to you."
Min-jae inhaled sharply.
This was why he hated her.
Because she saw everything.
Every crack in his armor.
Every weakness he tried to hide.
And for the first time in his life, Min-jae found himself wanting to let go.
To let Ha-neul see him.
To let her hold the pieces of him he had spent years trying to fix.
And that terrified him.
So he did the only thing he could.
He pulled away.
And whispered, "Go home, Ha-neul."
She flinched.
For a second, he thought she might fight back.
But then she nodded, silent.
Min-jae watched as she stepped out of the car, her expression unreadable.
And as she disappeared into the night, he realized something.
No matter how much he pushed her away…
Jung Ha-neul was already inside his heart.
---