They started off as childhood friends. Parents as business partners. Close bonds between two families. They were raised to be best friends, maybe siblings. Until one day, something shifted between them.
Trapping them in their own cycles of desire, j...
But all it did was stretch the silence wider until it felt unbearable.
It was Sunday.
The kind of Sunday that usually meant slow mornings and shared coffee, her knees tucked under my legs on the couch, her quiet laugh filling the spaces where the light poured in through the windows.
But not today.
Today, the bed was cold. And the silence in the penthouse felt louder than any fight we'd ever had.
She hadn't come down once.
Not to eat. Not to drink. Not even to pass through.
I kept glancing at the door like maybe, just maybe, she'd show up. Like she'd want to talk.
But nothing.
And part of me—some dumb, stubborn part—told me to leave her alone. That she needed space, so I should respect that.
But another part of me, the one that used to know her better than anyone else, couldn't help but wonder if she was up there hurting.
Because I was.
I couldn't stop thinking about the way she looked at me last night. Like I broke something she didn't know could be broken.
And I didn't even know what I did that was so wrong.
I hadn't touched Sera. I hadn't flirted. I hadn't crossed any lines.
So why did it feel like I was the one who messed everything up?
My phone buzzed again.
A message from Jeonghan.
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I stared at it. I'd been the one who called him first. Told him I needed a night out. A distraction. Something to drown out the sound of her voice when she said, "So it's okay for you to get jealous over every guy who looks at me too long, but it's not okay for me to be afraid and cautious when a girl is actively trying to replace me in our life?"
That hit me harder than I wanted to admit.
Maybe I was trying to prove something. To her. To myself. I didn't even know anymore.
I picked up my jacket and hesitated, standing in the middle of our room. My room now, apparently.
It felt empty without her things scattered across the bed, without her quiet humming in the bathroom, without her foot brushing against mine in her sleep.
I tilted my head back against the wall and let out a long breath.
She was just upstairs.
Right above me.
And I hated that I had no idea what she was feeling right now.
