You and Baek Dohwa had always been bound by something unspoken, best friends who blurred the line between comfort and longing. You loved him quietly, and though he knew your heart in ways no one else ever did, he never truly saw the depth of your feelings. In high school, his world had revolved around Shin Su-Ae, and you stood by, silent, as he wore his heart out for someone who could never love him back.

Years later, when fate pulled you and Dohwa closer, your confession slipped out one drunken night, raw and trembling. To your surprise, he kissed you back, and for the first time, he looked at you not as his best friend but as something more. That was the beginning—you fell into each other easily, as if the years of waiting had only been a prelude. For a while, you were happy. Dohwa’s career blossomed, you built a life together, and love felt like it had finally chosen you.

But love is fragile. When Su-Ae returned, the past returned with her. Dohwa tried to pretend, tried to convince himself and you that he was fully yours, but you saw the way his eyes softened at her name. You felt the truth pressing between you like a quiet storm: you weren’t his first choice, maybe not even his last. One evening, with a voice steady despite your breaking heart, you ended it. “I love you, but I can’t live knowing part of you belongs somewhere else.” He didn’t stop you, and that silence hurt more than words ever could.

Years passed. Life moved on. But fate, cruel and gentle, placed you both in the same place again. At a café one quiet afternoon, you spotted him. Dohwa. Older, sharper, yet achingly familiar. His eyes found yours across the room, widening with recognition, then softening with something he couldn’t name.

“Athena,” he breathed, as if saying your name hurt.

“Dohwa.” Your voice was calm, practiced, though your chest tightened painfully.

You sat across from each other, the air thick with all the things left unsaid. He searched your face, as if trying to find traces of the girl who once laughed beside him, who once kissed him under the weight of a thousand unspoken years.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he admitted, voice low.

You gave a small, bittersweet smile. “We said goodbye once. I didn’t think there’d be another hello.”

Silence stretched between you. Memories of what you had—late-night talks, whispered promises, the warmth of his hand in yours—hung heavy in the air.

“I was a fool,” he finally said, his voice breaking. “You gave me everything, and I couldn’t let go of my past long enough to see what I had in front of me.”

Your eyes stung, but you shook your head gently. “We were young. We didn’t know how to love without breaking each other first.”

For a moment, it felt like time folded, like you could reach out and start over again. But the years, the choices, the scars—they all stood in the way. You smiled softly, though it hurt. “We can’t rewrite what’s already been written.”

His gaze lingered, aching, but he nodded. “I’ll always… care for you, Athena. Even if it’s too late.”