Esler slowed his steps as he followed Jennie down the street.
Her sobs had softened, but the way her shoulders shook told him she was still breaking apart inside. He stopped.
She needs space.
The realization came with an ache he didn't welcome. For once, control wasn't the answer. Presence wasn't either.
So he turned back.
Each step away from her felt wrong, but he forced himself forward, reminding himself that hovering would only make things worse. He had already crossed too many lines—emotionally, silently, dangerously.
He reached the quieter side of the street, the noise of the restaurant fading behind him.
Then—
A sudden force grabbed his arm.
Before Esler could react, he was pulled sharply off the sidewalk and into the narrow space between two buildings. His back hit the brick wall with a dull thud.
His instincts flared.
But the face in front of him stopped him cold.
Min-jun.
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Min-jun's grip loosened slightly, as if even he hadn't expected himself to do this. His head was bowed, shoulders tense, breath uneven.
Esler straightened slowly, confusion flickering across his face. "What are you doing?"
Min-jun let out a short, bitter laugh. "I could ask you the same."
Esler frowned. "If this is about what you think—"
"I know who you are."
The words cut through the air.
Esler stilled.
Min-jun lifted his head just enough for his eyes to meet Esler's. There was no anger in them now. Only defeat.
"I know you're her groom," Min-jun said quietly. "I figured it out."
Esler didn't deny it.
"I also know," Min-jun continued, his voice tightening, "that you're her parents' choice. And that she… chose to stay."
The word chose hurt more than Esler expected.
Min-jun straightened fully now, his voice rising despite himself. "So congratulations. You won."
"This isn't a competition," Esler said sharply.
Min-jun laughed again, harsher this time. "It is when the prize is someone you love."
Esler opened his mouth to respond, but Min-jun spoke over him, the words spilling out as if he had held them in too long.
"You'll marry the most beautiful girl," he said. "And the kindest heart. She's gentle in ways you won't notice until it's too late. She forgives too easily. She sacrifices too much."
His fists clenched.
"And if you ever hurt her," Min-jun's voice broke into a shout, echoing down the alley, "remember this—"
He stepped closer, pointing a trembling finger at Esler's chest.
"—it will be your last day."
The warning wasn't dramatic.
It was real.
For a moment, Esler saw himself clearly through Min-jun's eyes—not as a professor, not as a groom, but as a threat. Someone who could destroy what was already fragile.
Slowly, Min-jun stepped back and released Esler completely.
"Go," he said hoarsely. "And don't ever tell her about this."
Esler stood still, the words settling heavily in his chest.
"I won't," he said quietly.
Min-jun nodded once, then turned and walked away without looking back—his shoulders stiff, his steps unsteady, like a man leaving behind the last thing he believed in.
Esler remained there long after Min-jun disappeared.
For the first time in years, he felt something close to guilt.
That night, Esler sat alone in his apartment, the city lights outside his window blurred by rain. His bandaged hand rested on the table, throbbing faintly, though the pain barely registered.
Jennie's face replayed in his mind—her tears, her restraint, the way she pulled her hand away.
I hurt her.
The realization settled painfully deep.
He picked up his phone.
He hesitated only once before pressing call.
It rang.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
"Hello?"
Her voice was strained, raw, like she had been crying for hours.
"Jennie," Esler said softly. "I—"
He didn't get another word out.
"What do you want from me?" she snapped.
The anger in her voice stunned him.
"You think you can just watch my life fall apart and then call me like nothing happened?"
"Jennie, please—"
"No," she cut in. "You don't get to say please."
Her breathing was uneven. "Do you have any idea what today did to me? Seeing him, hearing him… remembering everything I tried to forget?"
Esler closed his eyes.
"I didn't plan for any of this," she continued. "You stand there so calm, so controlled, like none of it affects you. But it does. It affects me."
"I know," he said quietly.
"No, you don't," she shot back. "You don't know what it's like to lose someone you loved and then be told to replace them like it's nothing."
Her voice cracked.
"You're my professor. My groom. A stranger. And suddenly everything is tangled and I don't even know how to breathe properly anymore."
The words hit him harder than Min-jun's warning ever could.
"I never wanted to hurt you," Esler said. "If I could undo yesterday—"
"But you can't," she interrupted. "And neither can I."
Silence fell between them, heavy and painful.
Finally, she spoke again, quieter now.
"Please… don't call me like this again. Not tonight."
The line went dead.
Esler lowered the phone slowly.
The apology he had rehearsed never reached her.
Outside, the rain intensified, tapping against the glass like unanswered questions.
For the first time since he had seen her photograph—smiling, unaware of him—Esler understood something terrifying.
Falling in love wasn't the danger.
Being the reason she broke was.