Alive

Fractures

A sharp knock rattled the office door. The sound seemed to echo in the heavy silence, where only the faint hum of the city beyond the window lingered.

Jaebeom's hand, which had been curled protectively over yours, tightened reflexively. His jaw tensed, that muscle in his cheek twitching with restrained annoyance. Without releasing you, he straightened in his chair, voice cool but loud enough to carry.

"Come in."

The door opened, and the weight of disapproval filled the room before a word was spoken. Mr. Lim, Jaebeom's father, stepped in, polished shoes clicking against the floor. His expression was as severe as ever—lines etched deep from years of authority and control. His gaze flickered briefly to you before settling coldly on his son.

"Jaebeom," his voice carried the tone of command rather than conversation, "Cha is getting married."

Your stomach twisted. The news wasn't meant for you, yet you felt it like a dart piercing skin. You lowered your head, fingers nervously tangling together in your lap. His father's dislike for you wasn't subtle—it was a storm that lingered in every interaction, every glance heavy with judgment.

Before your anxiety could spiral, Jaebeom's warm hand covered yours, firm and deliberate. He lifted it onto his desk where the light caught the delicate band on your finger. His thumb brushed against your knuckle, grounding you.

"So what." His reply was quiet, laced with venom.

Mr. Lim's eyes narrowed, following the glint of the ring. The recognition landed instantly.

"What's that—don't tell me she's your—"

"Yes," Jaebeom cut him off, voice sharp, unyielding. "My fiancée." He squeezed your hand harder, like anchoring himself to the truth. His truth.

The silence cracked with the sound of his father's sigh, long and heavy. He pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering as though Jaebeom were a reckless child. "Are you trying to run our business into the ground? Marrying someone who has no future?" His words rose louder, sharper, each syllable a blade.

Your heart sank. No future? The words reverberated inside you. But wasn't Jaebeom your future? The thought hurt, twisting deeper the more you tried to suppress it.

Jaebeom's face burned red, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "Unlike you," he spat, each word trembling with suppressed rage, "I have emotions. And I fell in love with a woman who makes me happy."

The emphasis on I cracked like a whip.

His father's lips curled in disdain. "She just likes you for your money."

The final straw. Jaebeom's composure shattered. His chair scraped violently against the floor as he shot up, voice exploding.

"Get out!"

Mr. Lim's brows shot up. "Excuse you?"

"You heard me." Jaebeom's entire body shook with fury. His grip on your hand was almost painful now, but you didn't pull away. "Insult me all you want, but don't you dare drag Y/N into it."

The atmosphere was suffocating. You could barely breathe, anxiety pounding through your veins. Every sound felt magnified—the ticking clock on the wall, your own shallow breaths.

For a moment, neither man moved. Then, with a derisive snort, Mr. Lim turned on his heel and stormed out, the door slamming shut behind him.

The silence left behind was deafening.

Jaebeom collapsed back into his chair, burying his face in his hands. His breaths came fast, unsteady.

"Jaebeom—" you whispered, reaching toward him.