"I-" The ringtone from Nabi's phone shattered the silence, cutting through the tension like a blade. Both she and Hansol were paralyzed in that fragile moment, wishing for nothing more than to keep the quiet to themselves. But maybe, just maybe, this interruption was the universe's way of forcing their hands.
Jeonghan's smile was tight, his stature unnervingly rigid. "Please, take the call." He gestured toward the restaurant's entrance, where the cool night air awaited.
Nabi, caught in a sudden rush of awkwardness, nodded stiffly before rising and heading toward the door. She hated the cold. It bit at her skin, seeping through her thin sweater, but the clarity of the night sky somehow pulled her in. It felt like the world had paused, if only for a moment, and she could lose herself in its vastness—anything to distract from the swirl of confusion in her chest.
Her mind raced with a thousand thoughts about Jeonghan, about the strange weight of his plan, but all of it halted when she saw the contact name flash on her phone. Her breath caught. Why the hell was he calling?
Hesitantly, she answered. "Hello?" Her voice wavered, an uncertainty she couldn't quite hide. Her father? The one person who had never bothered to waste energy on her? He'd always left that to her mother, who had long ago perfected the art of disappointment. The man had never cared, and yet, here he was, forcing his presence into her life again.
Her childhood had been full of empty spaces where love should have been—places she once filled with naive hope. Asking where her parents were when other kids were picked up from school had been a constant ache, a pain that grew heavier with each passing year. It felt like a bad movie she never signed up for.
But now, at this moment—this exact moment—she could almost convince herself that maybe, just maybe, there had been some chance that things could have been different. That there was a version of her life where she wasn't so lonely, so... detached.
"Natalia."
The sound of her name slipping from his lips hit her like a punch to the gut. Why? she thought. Why do I feel like this? She hated him, hated him with a depth she could never explain. But hearing him, after all this time, made something inside her twist with an emotion she couldn't name. It wasn't sadness—no, she'd given up on that long ago—but something softer.
"Is there something you called for?" She asked, her voice betraying a vulnerability she couldn't control.
A heavy sigh sounded from the other end. "Your mother... she passed away earlier this evening. Fatal heart attack. I thought you'd want to know."
Her breath hitched, her body going numb as she tried to process the words. "She, she like... she like died died?" Her question felt absurd, but it wasn't for lack of trying to understand. Her mind just couldn't wrap around it. The woman she had loathed for so long—gone. It didn't make sense. Not now, not when her life was already in pieces.
The woman who had destroyed her childhood, but also, at times, been the only one who could make her smile. The same woman who had torn her down, yet somehow still was the reason she ever believed in love. It was a conflict she couldn't escape. The pain was still there, but now it was mixed with something darker—a regret she couldn't shake.
She wanted to cry, but there were no tears. Was that it? Was that all she could feel?
Her father's voice snapped her back to reality. "I spoke with your brother about this a few days ago. I would like him at the funeral, but you—" He paused, as if considering her. "It would be bad for our family's image if you showed up. You should wait a week."
A week? To visit her dead mother?
The absurdity of it all sent a bitter laugh from her lips. "You don't even sound saddened," she remarked, disbelief thick in her tone.
"Natalia, you know your mother and I were never in love," he said coldly. "We were strangers, bound by obligation. I'll send the funeral details to your brother."
And just like that, the call ended. The line went silent, and all Nabi could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat hammering in her chest.
She collapsed onto the curb outside the restaurant, the weight of everything pressing down on her. Her mother, her father, Hansol—everything felt like too much. Her world, which had only just begun to settle, was now a mess of confusion. Why was the universe always testing her, pulling her into a web of hurt just when she thought she had finally found peace?
But before she could dwell too long, a voice called out, piercing the stillness.
"Are you—"
"HOLY SHIT—hi, oh my god, hi!" Nabi could've sworn her heart stopped. Hansol. How had he—? She hadn't even noticed him come outside, hadn't seen him standing by her, his presence an anchor in the sea of chaos that had consumed her.
But the moment wasn't what it seemed. No laughter, no relief. His hands ran through his hair, his eyes flicking to the view over the city, but even the beauty of the night seemed to escape him.
"I know we're... not exactly good right now," he said slowly, his voice tight with hesitation. "But are you okay?" The sincerity in his voice was almost too much, cutting through the awkwardness, leaving his concern raw and unguarded.
Nabi couldn't meet his eyes, her own gaze stubbornly fixed on the ground. She didn't know what to say, didn't know how to make sense of the storm inside her.
She let out a hollow, bitter chuckle. "Why do you care? I hurt you... I've given you every reason to hate me."
Hansol shook his head quickly. "No, you didn't. You made a choice, a choice that, yeah, it hurt. But... I get it now, okay? You don't want to be in the spotlight. I understand that."
He understood? After a year of silence, he understood?
The words stung more than she expected, his easy acceptance burning through her. She could have used this clarity a long time ago.
But no words came from her lips. How could they? What was there to say?
Clearing his throat, Hansol shoved his hands into his pockets, his posture stiff. "Can I sit?"
And just like that, Nabi was faced with the choice of whether to turn away or let someone back in.
