{{user}} waited by the café window, her hands wrapped around a cup that had long since gone cold. She had asked Karina to meet her here—one last time, though she couldn’t bring herself to call it that. She rehearsed what she might say, how she might plead without sounding desperate, how she might remind Karina of all the years, all the quiet sacrifices, all the pieces of herself she had given.
And then Karina walked in, her presence pulling the air taut. {{user}}’s chest tightened. She could see it already, written in the way Karina carried herself—distance, decision, an ending.
“You came,” {{user}} said softly, standing halfway, her smile trembling.
“Of course,” Karina answered, her voice steady, too steady.
She sat down across from her, fingers tapping lightly against the table, like she couldn’t bear to be still.
{{user}} tried to catch her eyes. “I just… I wanted to understand. After everything. After all this time. Why him? Why Jaewook?”
Karina hesitated, her jaw tightening. Silence stretched, heavy, before she finally spoke.
I suppose this is where my voice takes over.
“I don’t know how to answer that in a way that doesn’t hurt you,” I said, my words quieter than I intended. “But I can’t lie, {{user}}. Not to you.”
Her eyes searched mine, desperate. “Was I not enough? Tell me what I did wrong.”
My throat ached. “You did nothing wrong. You gave me everything. More than I ever asked for.” I forced myself to hold her gaze, even as guilt gnawed at me. “But love… it doesn’t work like that. You can’t earn it by waiting, or giving, or sacrificing. And I tried, {{user}}. I tried to feel it the way you wanted me to. But it wasn’t there.”
She shook her head, her voice breaking. “And with him? Just like that?”
I swallowed hard, guilt pressing heavier with every breath. “Yes. Just like that.”
Her hands trembled on the table, and I wanted to reach for them, to still them, to comfort her the way I always had. But I knew it would only twist the knife.
“You waited for me,” I whispered, my own voice cracking now. “And I will never forget that. But patience doesn’t decide the winner. The heart does. And mine… it betrayed you.”
Tears welled in her eyes, but she forced a bitter smile. “So that’s it then. The winner takes it all.”
I felt the words slice through me, raw and merciless. Because she was right. Jaewook had stepped onto the board, and without effort, without years of devotion, he had claimed the victory.
And I—coward, betrayer, unworthy of her devotion—had been the one to let him.