Nabi laughed, her voice a soft melody against the quiet hum of the car. The sound was light, yet carried an ache she didn't fully understand.
Hansol couldn't help but smile at her. It wasn't just the laugh—it was everything about her. In that moment, she seemed to outshine even the stars that blanketed the night sky above them.
He ran a hand through his hair, letting the cool breeze slip through the cracked window. "Nat, you okay?" he asked, his tone casual but his eyes glancing toward her with something deeper.
She sighed, her gaze locked on the road stretching ahead. "I don't know. It's just... everything, I guess."
Hansol stayed quiet, giving her space to say what she needed to.
After a beat, she finally spoke. "Do you want to know why I love the stars?"
His brow arched slightly in curiosity. "No, I don't think you've ever told me."
She smiled faintly, her eyes glinting with a mix of fondness and pain. "When I was four, my mom took me to the observatory at our old house—the one we lived in before everything changed. We stayed up all night talking about random things I loved at that age. It felt magical." She paused, her voice softening. "That night, she told me, 'Whenever you're far away, just look for the brightest star. I'll be there.'"
Hansol glanced at her, his chest tightening at the emotion laced in her words.
"For years, I believed it. Anytime I felt scared or alone, I'd look for that star and feel like she was there with me. But then... she changed. She became someone else. And now, when I look at the stars, I don't know which version of her I'm supposed to remember."
Her voice cracked, and she turned toward the window, blinking back tears. "I thought I'd feel nothing when she died. But I do. I miss the mom who used to care for me. And I hate her for not staying that way."
Hansol's hands tightened on the wheel for a moment before he eased the car to the side of the highway. The city lights glittered below them like a sprawling galaxy of their own.
He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned fully to her, his hands reaching for hers. "Natalia..." His voice was quiet but carried the weight of everything he wanted to say.
"You don't have to choose," he said. "You can love the mom who cared for you and still be angry at the one who hurt you. You can grieve them both. It doesn't have to make sense—it just has to be yours."
Her tears spilled over, and Hansol reached up to brush them away with his thumb. "And if the stars connect you to her, let them. But let them remind you of who you are now, too. Of the people who love you now."
A watery laugh slipped from her lips, her eyes searching his. "Like you?"
Hansol smiled, leaning forward until their foreheads touched. "Especially me."
They stayed there for a moment, the world around them blurring into nothing. The stars above, the city below, the weight of grief and love all collided into something indescribable.
Finally, Nabi pulled back slightly, wiping her cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater. The heavy emotions lingered in her chest, and for a moment, she thought she might be able to breathe again. But then reality settled back in, pressing against her ribs like a weight she couldn't shake.
She exhaled shakily. "It's funny, in a way. I spent so long trying to prove myself to her. Trying to make her proud, even after she stopped caring."
Hansol studied her carefully, sensing the shift in her tone. "What do you mean?"
She let out a hollow laugh. "I mean, none of it mattered. Everything I did to keep my place, to prove I deserved to be there, and it was all for nothing."
Hansol's grip on her hand tightened. "Nabi..."
She finally looked at him, her throat tightening. "Namjoo fired me today."
His breath hitched, his expression instantly darkening. "What?"
She scoffed, shaking her head. "It wasn't really his choice. My dad—now that my mom's gone, he's making the company his. He wants to fill all the positions with people she hated. People she didn't trust. Just to spite her. And apparently, that included getting rid of me."
Hansol's jaw clenched, his fingers curling around hers as if grounding her. "You're kidding."
She swallowed, her voice bitter. "I thought I'd feel angry. I thought I'd care more. But I don't even know if I do. I worked so hard just to be cast aside like I was nothing. I don't even know why I tried."
Hansol's expression softened, his frustration melting into something gentler. He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Natalia... this isn't about you. This is about him trying to rewrite everything. None of this is a reflection of you."
She bit her lip, blinking rapidly to push back the tears threatening to return. "Then why does it feel like I lost?"
Hansol sighed, his forehead resting against hers again. "Because it hurts. Because you cared. And it's okay to feel that."
She let out a shaky breath, and before she could stop herself, she buried her face into his chest. He held her without hesitation, his warmth steadying her in a way nothing else had.
"I don't know what to do now," she admitted, her voice muffled against his hoodie.
Hansol pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Then let's figure it out together."
She wasn't sure why those words made her feel lighter, but they did.
And then, as if sensing she needed something—anything—to shift the mood, Hansol pulled back just slightly, tilting her chin up with his fingers. "So, since you're newly unemployed, does that mean you have time to be my Annual Party date?"
Despite herself, Nabi let out a watery laugh, swatting his arm. "Oh my god, you're such an idiot."
He grinned. "But I'm your idiot."
She rolled her eyes but leaned into him anyway. "Corny, but yeah. You are."
And for the first time that night, she let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, everything really would be okay.
