Eon-jin's POV
A month has passed since my mom and I moved to live with my aunt in Seoul. Adjusting to this new chapter hasn't been easy, but my mom has done her best to make sure I can settle in. She enrolled me in the same school where my cousin studies, which helped a little. Thankfully, the subjects I took at Daegu High were credited, so I didn't have to start over entirely. I thought being in a new environment might help me move on, but the pain still lingers.
Leaving Daegu wasn't just a physical departure; it felt like leaving a part of myself behind. I knew deep down that this move was for the best, not just for me but for my mom too. Every night before we left, I heard her muffled sobs from her room. Knowing that the truth about my dad had shattered her heart broke mine even more. There were nights she would come to me, hugging me tightly, begging me not to leave her. She'd whisper, "I can't do this without you." Seeing her in that state made the decision for me. We had to leave, no matter how much it hurt.
While I was packing my things, she asked me the question I had been dreading.
"How about Tae-pyung?" Her voice was soft, yet it carried so much weight.
I froze for a moment before forcing myself to continue folding my clothes. "We've ended things, eomma. Maybe... maybe what I felt for him wasn't love after all. Maybe it was just a simple teenage crush, something that will fade with time. Once I stop seeing him, it'll go away." I kept my voice steady, but my hands trembled.
She didn't respond immediately. Instead, she walked over and wrapped her arms around me from behind. "I know you love him, Eon-jin. I can see it in the way you talk about him, the way your eyes light up when you're with him. Don't make this decision just for me."
Her words hit me like a knife to the heart. I bit my lip, holding back the tears threatening to spill. "I'm doing this for myself too, eomma. I need to move on. I'll be okay, really," I replied, turning to hug her tightly.
But the truth was, I wasn't okay. And I wasn't sure when I would be.
Every night in my new room, I would sit on my bed, clutching my phone and staring at the first photo we took together at the ice cream shop. It was such a simple memory, yet it held so much meaning. Sometimes I'd scroll through old messages, rereading his words, imagining his voice as if he were right there with me. I missed him more than I could admit, even to myself.
There were countless times I fought the urge to call him, to text him, to check if he was okay. I wondered if he missed me too, or if he had already started moving on. The thought of him finding happiness without me both comforted and crushed me.
Then a week after we moved here, my phone rang. It was his name on the screen. My heart skipped a beat, my hands shaking as I stared at it. He called once, then twice, then three times. Each time, I forced myself not to answer. I told myself it was better this way. But it didn't stop the tears from falling.
A notification buzzed—a voice message. I hesitated for what felt like an eternity before finally pressing play.
His voice was shaky, raw, and filled with emotions that mirrored my own. He asked why I left without saying goodbye, why I wasn't by his side. He said he missed me—and the ring, the one he bought for me. His voice broke as he said my name, as he whispered those three words, "I love you." It felt like my heart shattered all over again.
Hearing his voice, so raw and honest, felt like my heart was being torn apart piece by piece. It wasn't just his pain—it was mine too. Every syllable was a reminder of what I had walked away from, of the love I left behind not because it wasn't real, but because I thought it was the right thing to do. And as he spoke, I couldn't hold back the tears. It felt like my heart shattered all over again, and for a moment, I wanted nothing more than to run back to him and make everything right. But I knew... Some choices can't be undone, no matter how much they hurt.
