"Do not raise your voice at your elders." Haraboji's voice sliced through the room, cold and commanding.
"And your mother is right," he continued, eyes sharp, unyielding. "She is not suitable for you. Not for our family."
Suho's breath hitched.
"She may have been proven innocent," Haraboji said, unfazed, "but the damage caused by these endless dramas is real. The scandal. The attacks. The chaos that followed you after this marriage." His gaze hardened further. "And do not forget, it was her own brother who betrayed her."
Suho felt his chest tighten painfully.
"That alone proves she does not come from the right family," Haraboji went on. "The Kims do not form ties with such bloodlines. We will not allow our future heir to be born from such blood."
Each word felt like a blade.
"So end it," Haraboji concluded, voice void of emotion. "Coldly, if you must."
Suho shattered. His heart bled in a thousand invisible cuts, every one screaming her name. He could not bear to hear such words spoken about Hauen. About the woman who had become his breath, his anchor, his home.
"No…"
The word escaped him, broken and desperate.
"I can't leave Hauen," he said, his voice trembling uncontrollably. "I love her. She is my everything." His chest shook as he struggled to breathe. "I cannot imagine a life without her. She lives in me. She is my soul."
Tears fell freely now, unrestrained, heavy with truth. They traced his cheeks without shame, without resistance, revealing what words never could.
Haraboji simply watched him. Emotionless.
"Do not act foolishly, Suho," he said at last. "What you feel is mere affection. Do not lose yourself over it."
Suho's fists clenched.
"You have a long life ahead of you," Haraboji continued. "Responsibilities. Values. A legacy to uphold." His tone remained firm, merciless. "Do not bind yourself to someone who brings nothing but pain and trouble into your life."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
"It is better to end this pain once," Haraboji said, "than to suffer it again and again for the rest of your life."
Suho stood frozen, tears still falling, heart pounding violently in his chest. Because for him, this was not affection. This was love.
And asking him to let go of Hauen was the same as asking him to tear out his own soul.
"No…" Suho whispered again, the word barely surviving past his lips. He shook his head slowly, as if refusing the reality itself. "I won't leave her. Not at any cost. Never."
His voice wavered only once before steadying. "If it's anything versus Hauen…" He paused, breath caught painfully in his chest. "I choose Hauen."
The room went still.
Haraboji studied him for a long moment, eyes dark, calculating.
"Will you go against your family?" he asked calmly. "The family that gave you your name, your status, your life. Your education. Your legacy." His voice remained measured, but every word landed heavy. "Will you throw all of that away for a woman?"
Suho's jaw tightened.
"Will you abandon your parents? Your family?" Haraboji continued. "Your dreams?" He leaned forward slightly. "What about Mirae? Wasn't that your dream? Didn't you work hard for it? Will you sacrifice that too?"
Suho fell silent.
The words struck their mark, one after another, leaving him defenseless.
"Will you choose to leave us for her?" Haraboji pressed on. "For someone who entered your life briefly and turned it into chaos?"
The precise wound. The one designed to confuse, to rot the heart with doubt.
"Think wisely, Suho," Haraboji said, his tone deceptively gentle now. "You have a long life ahead of you. Do not ruin it by choosing wrongly, guided by temporary emotions." He paused. "If you leave her, you will forget her. Your feelings will fade. Just like they did for Yerin."
Suho's fingers curled slowly into his palms.
"But if you choose wrong," Haraboji continued, unflinching, "everything will be destroyed. You may lose us. The family that gave you everything you are today."
Silence swallowed the room.
"I'll give you one week," Haraboji concluded. "Think carefully. Make the right decision." His gaze sharpened. "Talk to her. End it like the contract it was. And move on."
With that, the verdict was sealed.
Suho stood there, unmoving. As if at the edge of a cliff.
On one side, love. Warm, fragile, irreplaceable.
On the other hand, legacy. Heavy, unforgiving, inescapable.
His heart and mind collided violently, neither willing to surrender. And at this point, Suho realized that no matter which path he chose… something precious was going to be lost.
Suho drove back to the penthouse on autopilot.
The city lights blurred past the windshield, melting into streaks of white and gold, but his eyes saw none of it. His mind was crowded. No, assaulted.
Leave her.
End this contract marriage.
She is not suitable for you.
She turned your life into chaos.
Each sentence replayed with cruel clarity, laced with false concern and quiet authority. They echoed, overlapping, refusing to fade.
Tears slid down his cheeks continuously, blurring the streetlights into streaks of gold. He didn't bother wiping them away at first. The pain was too heavy, too suffocating.
Why does this always happen to me?
Why did love never get to stay in my life?
The question circled his heart again and again, unanswered, relentless.
They were asking him to leave Hauen.
His Hauen.
The woman who gave him a reason to breathe again when life had crushed him flat. The one who pulled him back onto his feet when hope had slipped through his fingers. The one who stood beside him through storms that would have broken anyone else.
How could they call her trouble?How could they call her bad luck?
Did they not see the nights she stayed awake for him? The way she swallowed her own pain just to keep him standing? The quiet sacrifices she made without ever asking for anything in return?
Did her worth really mean nothing to them?
His grip tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white.
Choose Hauen.
The voice didn't shout. It didn't beg.
It simply existed, steady and certain, rising from somewhere deep within him.
Then, like a knife slicing through that fragile resolve, another voice intruded.
Will you leave your family for her?
Haraboji's words slithered back into his thoughts, sharp and calculated. His chest hitched, confusion clouding his mind. Family. Legacy. Responsibility. Love.
Everything he was stood on opposite ends, pulling him apart.
But his heart kept screaming don't leave Hauen.
The pain surged again, sharp and merciless. His vision blurred as tears spilled freely, blinding him. Suho swerved and stopped the car abruptly on the side of the highway, hazard lights blinking like a quiet warning to the world.
And then he broke. Just a man in love and agony.
His forehead fell against the steering wheel as sobs tore out of him, loud, ugly, unfiltered. His shoulders shook violently as he cried, cried like his chest would split open if he didn't let it out. The pain had nowhere else to go. It poured through tears, gasps, broken breaths.
He cried for everything he was being asked to lose.
He cried because loving her felt like a crime.
He cried because choosing her felt like war.
Minutes passed. Maybe longer. He didn't know.
His throat burned. His head throbbed, heavy, dizzy. But his heart didn't feel lighter. It still bled.It still hurts.
Then his phone buzzed. The sound cut through the silence like lightning. His breath hitched when he saw her name glowing on the screen.
Hauen.
His fingers trembled. His chest tightened painfully. The call disconnected before he could answer.
His heart dropped.
Then it buzzed again.
This time, he inhaled deeply, desperately trying to gather the shattered pieces of himself. He wiped his tears with the back of his hand, dragged in a breath that still trembled, and finally pressed answer.
"Where are you, Teddy?" Her voice flowed through the speaker, warm and worried. "Why didn't you pick up my call?"
The sound of her voice undid him instantly. His eyes filled again, lashes clumping with fresh tears.
"Hello?" she called softly. "Are you there?"
"…Ye." His voice finally came out, hoarse and broken, barely holding itself together.
There was a pause.
Too long.
Her silence wasn't empty. It was alert. She knew him too well.
"Teddy…" she said slowly. "Are you crying?"
His breath stuttered. He tried to swallow it down, tried to lie like an adult, like a protector.
He sniffed once, quickly, and forced out a weak chuckle that fooled no one.
"Aniya…" he said, voice cracking despite the lie.
She frowned on the other end, the kind of frown that came from knowing him too well.
"You're lying," she said softly but firmly. "What happened, Teddy?"
He straightened a little in the driver's seat, forcing control into his breath, pressing his emotions down until they burned quietly instead of spilling.
"Ani… why would I cry?" he replied, voice steadier now, practiced.
"Then why does your voice sound thick?" she asked immediately. "Like you were sobbing?"
His jaw tightened. He searched for something harmless, something normal.
"I ate spicy kimchi at dinner," he said quickly. "It was too spicy. Burnt my tongue. That's why."
There was a pause.
Silence stretched, thin and dangerous.
"You're not lying, right?" she asked again, cautious now.
He let out a small chuckle, soft, almost convincing. "Yaa… why would I?"
She sighed, concern melting into care. "Why did you eat something so spicy? Did it hurt a lot?"
His chest ached at how easily she worried about him.
"I didn't know it was that spicy," he said gently. "I'm fine now. Drinking banana milk. It'll settle."
"Okay…" she murmured, still not fully convinced. Then her voice softened. "When will you come home? I'm getting bored here. I miss you already."
His heart twisted painfully.
"I'm on the way," he said. "I'll be there soon."
"Hm. Come safe," she murmured.
He hummed in response, forcing warmth into it.
The call ended. The silence returned.
He let out a shaky breath and leaned back against the seat. Tears welled up again, threatening to spill, but he blinked them back forcefully. He lifted his gaze to the rearview mirror. His face was flushed, eyes swollen and red, the evidence of his breakdown impossible to miss.
He reached for the water bottle with trembling fingers, then pushed the car door open and stepped out.
Cold water splashed against his face, washing away the tears, the redness, the evidence of his breakdown. He leaned forward, hands braced on the hood, breathing slowly, deeply. Night air filled his lungs, cool and sharp, grounding him. The highway hummed softly behind him, indifferent to his storm.
One breath.
Then another.
He stood there for ten long minutes, not thinking, not remembering, not choosing. Just breathing. Letting the chaos settle like dust after a collapse. His heart was still heavy, his mind still tangled, but the sharp edges dulled enough for him to stand upright again.
Not now, he told himself. Don't break now.
He got back into the car, wiped his face one last time, and started the engine. His hands were steady on the steering wheel, his expression composed. If anyone saw him now, they wouldn't know how close he had been to shattering.
He drove toward the penthouse, carrying everything quietly. Because whatever storm waited for him, he refused to let it touch Hauen.
Not until he thought clearly. Not until he made a choice that was truly his.