Chapter 23: What Remains After Burning

Jiwoo suddenly threw his chopsticks down carelessly.

They scattered noisily across the table with an unpleasant clatter.

Considering how terrible this breakfast had already been from the beginning, neither of them looked particularly shocked anymore.

The atmosphere sank even further.

“Did he understand? Did he accept it? Did he really let you go?”

“…What exactly are you trying to say?”

“That person still can’t let go of you, so what kind of ending is this supposed to be…?”

At first glance, Jiwoo’s words sounded foolish.

Like someone overly considerate of another person’s feelings.

But that wasn’t really it.

Jiwoo was human too.

And because he was human, he couldn’t help feeling this way.

Haesu’s lingering attachment planted one terrifying assumption inside Jiwoo’s head — that if Kwon Seha ever regained his memories, then he would have somewhere to return to.

A place he was meant to return to.

And that thought alone made Jiwoo feel like he was suffocating from anxiety.

It was natural.

Seha was his person.

His fiancé.

His lover.

They had promised each other forever, and now all that remained was dreaming about their future together.

But things that could have stayed hidden forever had not merely surfaced one by one.

They had crashed down all at once.

“Choi Haesu never broke up with Kwon Seha, Seha…”

“Then what? Should I stay alone forever and keep feeding him false hope? Is that what you think is right?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

Now Jiwoo had become this kind of person.

Someone wishing Kwon Seha would never regain his memories.

Someone wishing Seha would never have a place he needed to return to, and instead remain ignorant forever, living beside Jiwoo until death.

That was what all this anxiety truly meant.

The realization made Jiwoo disgusted with himself.

“Are we seriously fighting right now?”

“…I spoke too harshly. I’ll apologize for that. But—!”

“Are we fighting because of Choi Haesu?”

They were.

On a morning that should have felt happy spent beside his lover, they were arguing because of someone else entirely.

Jiwoo’s lips pressed shut tightly.

Truthfully, he didn’t even know what he wanted anymore.

So what then?

If Seha admitted things weren’t fully resolved, would Jiwoo give him back?

No.

It was true that Haesu lingered painfully in his mind, but Jiwoo still didn’t want to let Seha go.

And there was no reason he should have to.

“I was frustrated, that’s all. I’m anxious. Upset too…”

“There’s nothing for you to worry about. I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

“…Can I really stop worrying about it?”

Can I really let this go?

Seha told him to.

But Jiwoo’s mind refused.

And besides, Jiwoo had never been the type to obey simply because Seha said so.

More importantly, this wasn’t that simple.

The thing still tying those two unfinished people together was not Kwon Seha.

If Choi Haesu refused to let go, then everything changed.

Even if only fragments remained, the love they once shared was still alive.

The two of them were supposed to bury those memories as the past and continue living separate lives now.

That was what Seha had decided.

He would marry Jiwoo as planned.

And someday, Haesu would move on too.

At least, that was closer to what Jiwoo wanted to believe.

“I love you.”

“……”

“We’re getting married because we love each other.”

Was it really love?

Until recently, Jiwoo had been certain.

But now he didn’t know anymore.

Because he had no idea how Seha once loved that person.

There was nothing to compare himself against, which somehow made it worse.

Jiwoo looked at Seha while desperately holding together the tattered remains of his heart.

The certainty on Seha’s face looked both pathetic and heartbreaking.

Of course he could speak like that.

He remembered nothing.

Jiwoo didn’t know much either.

And yet, he pitied Seha too.

A man who lost his memories, fell in love with someone new, and now had to endure endless suspicion because of it.

“You’re right. We do love each other…”

But Choi Haesu had once loved Kwon Seha too.

And if Seha ever regained his memories, Jiwoo knew he would fall endlessly afterward.

Just looking at Haesu made that obvious.

If both men had truly loved each other equally, then Seha — once everything returned to him — would probably collapse even harder.

Maybe worse than Haesu already had.

The possibility terrified Jiwoo so much he couldn’t swallow his food anymore.

Because if that happened, nothing would remain for Yoon Jiwoo at all.

Was he afraid of Seha’s despair?

Or afraid he might lose everything he believed belonged to him?

Or both?

He didn’t know.

Everything felt impossible.

There wasn’t much time left before the wedding.

Not even a full month.

Once this brief stretch of time passed and they married, Kwon Seha would truly become Yoon Jiwoo’s husband.

At that point, Choi Haesu’s lingering feelings would become completely useless.

That day was coming.

And even knowing that — knowing Jiwoo held every advantage here — he still couldn’t stop thinking about Haesu.

In the end, Seha left Jiwoo’s apartment under the excuse of work.

Things had already felt fragile since yesterday, and now they had fought the moment morning arrived.

It left him irritated.

After days of overwhelming schedules that kept him from paying enough attention to Jiwoo, Seha had planned to spend the entire weekend with him out of guilt.

But if staying together only meant dragging the argument out longer, then Seha wanted no part of it.

He hated wasting emotional energy before the wedding, especially over a topic that felt exhausting and pointless to him.

Most importantly, this was not something Jiwoo needed to agonize over together with him.

At first, Seha thought maybe he had misheard everything.

“Choi Haesu. Choi Haesu…”

Just muttering the name made irritation surge through him again.

It still felt like his argument with Jiwoo remained unresolved.

Why exactly had Jiwoo and Haesu needed to meet in the first place?

And if it was coincidence, then why did that coincidence have to involve Choi Haesu of all people?

Seha disliked him.

That much was certain.

But whether all those negative feelings belonged entirely to Haesu alone was another matter.

“That person was with Lee Doyoon.”

“At first, I thought maybe he was Doyoon’s boyfriend.”

More than anything, confusion came first.

Since when had Choi Haesu and Lee Doyoon become close enough to spend mornings together?

Close enough that Jiwoo mistook them for lovers?

If their relationship had actually changed somehow, Seha would’ve even congratulated them.

The problem was Doyoon refused to answer his calls.

Seha wanted details.

What exactly had happened between Jiwoo and Haesu to leave Jiwoo this anxious?

Truthfully, though, this wasn’t really about comforting Jiwoo.

Seha wanted to know what unfinished thing still lingered around him.

And once he found it, he intended to erase it completely.

[The person you are calling cannot answer right now…]

“f*ck, seriously…”

He had forgotten.

Jiwoo was someone who could always become aware of Haesu’s existence.

Seha simply never considered it important before.

He had never imagined arguments like this happening.

Maybe that was why the anger felt even hotter.

Choi Haesu.

Choi Haesu.

Why did that name refuse to leave Kwon Seha’s life no matter how many years passed?

They had spent far longer apart than together without seeing each other’s faces.

Yet somehow, right before the wedding, they were getting tangled together more than ever.

If Doyoon continued ignoring his calls, Seha planned to visit him directly.

Even if Doyoon was intentionally avoiding him, it didn’t matter.

Eventually, Seha would provoke him enough to make him talk.

Just thinking about Haesu again made another headache spread through his skull.

He hated this feeling.

This unnecessary pain.

It felt like someone had deliberately reignited the dying embers between him and Haesu.

And honestly, Seha almost thought it was for the best.

Two days ago, after leaving that Korean restaurant, he had already felt unsettled, like things hadn’t ended cleanly enough.

Maybe this was better instead.

Now that the fire had started again, all he needed to do was wait until everything burned completely to ash.

He wanted to see it with his own eyes.

Everything blackened. Gone.

You are pitiful.

And because of that, I dislike you.

It wasn’t even that he wished happiness for Haesu anymore.

Still, if possible, he wanted him to live well.

Live properly. Survive properly.

And finally bring this relationship to its true end.

Burn everything between them away until nothing remained at all.

The first thing Haesu saw upon opening his eyes was Doyoon’s face.

The sharp line of his nose and lips startled him enough that he instinctively pulled his head back.

They were far too close.

Why is this person sleeping here?

Haesu, still too dazed to realize his fever had finally gone down enough to think clearly again, could only stare in confusion at Doyoon sleeping beside him.

One of Doyoon’s hands rested over Haesu’s chest, rising and falling slightly with each breath.

Carefully removing the hand so he wouldn’t wake him, Haesu slowly sat up.

His head still spun faintly, but compared to earlier, it was manageable.

Leaving Doyoon behind, he stepped into the living room.

When he pulled the curtains open, sunlight flooded in mockingly.

Morning had already passed into another day.

“Ah— you scared me…”

“……”

“When did you wake up? Did I wake you?”

Haesu turned away from the giant window only to find Doyoon standing behind him.

Startled, he stumbled backward instinctively.

Before the back of his head could slam into the glass, Doyoon’s hand instantly caught it.

He hadn’t even heard the bedroom door open.

Haesu had genuinely thought he left quietly enough not to wake him.

Apparently not.

Still looking half-asleep himself, Doyoon immediately reached out to check Haesu’s forehead.

Then he pulled out a thermometer from somewhere and checked his temperature too.

“It’s still thirty-seven degrees. But it dropped a lot…”

“Was I really that sick yesterday?”

“Your fever almost hit forty.”

“I see…”

After confirming the fever had gone down, Doyoon’s hand lingered awkwardly against Haesu’s forehead without knowing where to go next.

Haesu only stared blankly back at him.

Unable to bear it, Doyoon finally told him to sit on the sofa before heading toward the kitchen.