When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

(S02) Chapter 35

The moment her name surfaced, my chest caved in again.

I turned, curling into the mattress as if I could escape it. Escape her face. That one memory of her at the river—still, pale, gone. I hadn’t cried for days now. I didn’t even know if I had tears left.

She’s gone. And I’m still here. Still breathing. Still selfish enough to want something for myself.

Is that what I am?

Selfish?

I tried to fight it. Tried to believe Han Wool’s words when he said, “It’s not your fault.” But even now, I could feel her suicide letter like a blade inside my chest. Her last words…

'It’s better to die than live like this.'

What did 'this' mean?

Living with me? Seeing me every day? Watching me slowly take back what she had taken from me first?

I gritted my teeth and sat up. The room was dim, lit only by the streetlight spilling through the half-open curtain.

Did they sleep?

And then my mind drifted to Minhwan.

He didn’t deserve what happened to him.

And yet here I was. Free. Alive. Still sleeping in a warm bed, sipping corn tea, being held by the boy she once said she’d marry.

I pulled my knees to my chest.

The guilt didn’t go away. It never went away.

Maybe I was a bad person.

Maybe I didn’t deserve this happiness.

But then I remembered his face. Han Wool’s, I mean. The way he looked at me when he handed me the tea. How he didn’t flinch when I lectured him like a textbook. How his eyes softened when I smiled—like just that flicker of an expression made the whole world tilt in his favor.

He doesn’t even know how to ask someone to be his girlfriend.

That stupid, adorable idiot.

I cracked a small smile. Bitter. Warm. Both.

He had assumed I was his girlfriend. Just like that. Because we made love, because we held hands, because our hearts already knew.

And, the fact is, I had been. A long time ago. And this time too.

But why does it still feel like I’m breaking?

I lay back down and stared at the ceiling again.

Would I be able to go through with it tomorrow?

To run away?

To leave my job, my life, my friends?

To walk away from the place where Harin’s body was pulled from the river?

The answer should’ve come quickly. It didn’t.

I wanted Han Wool. That much I knew. I wanted to stand beside him, choose him for once without guilt choking the decision.

But I didn’t want to forget Harin. I didn’t want to act like her death was a clean cut in our timeline, something we could just move past.

I turned again, face buried in the pillow. It still smelled like detergent and wood. This wasn’t home, but it was quiet. And maybe that’s what I needed right now.

Peace. Even temporary.

Han Wool had been so patient. So gentle. I don’t think he even realized how much it meant, how much that steadiness helped me hold my spine upright when I felt like crumbling into dust.