Chapter 42

For quite a long time, Jo Yeon-oh did not return to Gi-hyeon’s apartment. Whenever Gi-hyeon tried contacting him, the messages would simply show up as ‘read,’ with no reply. Gi-hyeon didn’t dare call him. He had absolutely nothing to say, and he worried that saying the wrong thing might just give the bastard an excuse to lash out.

Thanks to that, Gi-hyeon was finally able to sleep peacefully for the first time in a while. But that was it. The sheer agony of it all remained exactly the same.

It wasn’t that he was agonizing over Jo Yeon-oh. In fact, he genuinely welcomed the sudden burst of freedom. For the past few days of Yeon-oh’s absence, So Gi-hyeon was free to wander around his living room in just his underwear, and after showering, he could casually walk out completely naked, having only towel-dried his hair, and lounge around the apartment.

If someone asked him how that constituted ‘freedom,’ he wouldn’t have a solid argument, but to Gi-hyeon, it was quite enjoyable.

However, in exchange for that freedom, he suddenly found himself gagging at the smell of goldfish food, and when he tried to eat, the stench radiating from the refrigerator made him violently dry-heave. Thinking he might be suffering from severe indigestion, he pricked his finger to let out some blood, but the blood that surfaced wasn’t dark at all.

“I really don’t want to go to the hospital.”

People who work in hospitals absolutely despise receiving medical treatment themselves. Who wants to hear health lectures at their own workplace? But considering he couldn’t stomach a proper meal and was currently craving summer plums—which weren’t even in season yet—like a madman, he figured something was genuinely wrong and reluctantly booked an appointment.

Thankfully, Haeseong Rehabilitation Centre Clinic also had a Family Medicine department. The Director of Family Medicine would probably complain about the extra workload, but the nurses there were always inexplicably kind to Gi-hyeon, so he figured dropping by wouldn’t be too terrible.

With that plan in mind, he had intended to come into work early today, finish his duties in the athletes’ lounge ahead of schedule, and carve out some time to head downstairs for his appointment. Unfortunately, he had overslept.

Because of that, he hadn’t even been able to stop by the fast-food place to grab a coffee. He felt like he could have stomached a sausage egg McMuffin… In the middle of the night, the sudden, overwhelming desire for the taste of a sausage egg McMuffin had violently woken him up.

Feeling as though he would literally die if he didn’t eat one, Gi-hyeon had been fully prepared to track down a 24-hour branch, only to glance at the bright ‘4:00 AM’ glaring on his phone screen and ultimately abandon the mission. Even to him, the idea of rolling out of bed at the crack of dawn to shamble down the street like a zombie just for a McMuffin seemed utterly psychotic.

He had planned to at least grab one to-go in the morning, but oversleeping had completely ruined that as well. He had never been a particularly gluttonous person to begin with, so he wondered if his sudden cravings were simply the result of starving himself for the past few days.

Regardless, having failed on multiple fronts, Gi-hyeon felt completely drained right from the start of the day. Still, Team Leader Lim—who actively hunted for any excuse to torment Gi-hyeon—had taken the morning off to attend some graduate school event, meaning Gi-hyeon could head down to Family Medicine without having to walk on eggshells.

“Doc, you still haven’t gone? What have you been doing? Hurry up and go right now.”

Perhaps because he had seen Gi-hyeon squeezing his eyes shut to suppress dry heaves every time he tried to eat for the past two days, even the usually oblivious Byeong-ju was nagging him about why he hadn’t gone down for his appointment yet.

Feeling a genuine wave of gratitude, Gi-hyeon decided he would buy everyone coffee during lunch.

Calling downstairs on the internal line to let them know he was coming, Gi-hyeon didn’t have to wait long before presenting his symptoms to the Director of Family Medicine.

The diagnosis he received, however, was incredibly unexpected.

“It could be an allergic reaction, so let’s run a blood test first.”

“Ah, couldn’t it just be severe indigestion?”

“…Hmm, well. It’s a bit too specific to just be a simple stomach upset… It’s free for employees anyway, so let’s just run the test.”

He couldn’t exactly argue with that logic. Ultimately, Gi-hyeon had his blood drawn and was told to return for a follow-up appointment tomorrow when the results came out.

“Can’t they just finish everything in one day? Hospitals telling you to constantly come back is the most annoying part.”

Grumbling to himself—despite literally commuting to a hospital every single day—Gi-hyeon trudged back up to the athletes’ lounge. Aside from the constant nausea and the fact that he felt drowsy no matter how much he slept, he felt relatively fine. He spent the rest of the day wondering why on earth they were running an allergy test. He spent the entire day battling relentless nausea until his shift finally ended. It was severe enough to make him wonder if he had developed gastritis.

Having suffered so intensely, the moment he got home, he didn’t even bother showering or eating dinner; he simply collapsed and slept. Without someone there to actively feed him, managing his own meals was exhausting. His cooking skills were mediocre at best, and the mere thought of standing in front of a hot stove felt entirely too bothersome.

If Jo Yeon-oh had been there, the nagging would have been absolutely insufferable, but Yeon-oh hadn’t contacted him properly or returned to Gi-hyeon’s apartment in days. Thanks to that, Gi-hyeon was currently living a wonderfully negligent life.

He occasionally wondered if being alone was always this comfortable. Assuming the underlying tension he usually felt was just the subconscious anxiety of dealing with the bastard, he decided not to overthink it.

Recalling the events of that night was practically a taboo for Gi-hyeon. He fully intended to bury the entire incident permanently. To act as if he had never, ever spent the night with Jo Yeon-oh.

There was a very specific reason he had aggressively blackmailed Manager Yoo into deleting the CCTV footage.

Jo Yeon-oh harbored a visceral disgust for sex with Betas.

While Gi-hyeon had a vague understanding of the direct cause, Yeon-oh had never explicitly spoken to him about it. Gi-hyeon could only guess at the truth. But that assumption alone was more than enough reason to hide the fact that they had slept together. Because Jo Yeon-oh wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Despite his intimidating exterior, Yeon-oh possessed an incredibly fragile nervous system. Just agreeing to date Gi-hyeon had likely burnt those fragile nerves to a crisp; Gi-hyeon had absolutely zero desire to pile even more agony onto him. So Gi-hyeon desperately wanted to stop being a source of stress for Jo Yeon-oh.

If Yeon-oh were constantly hovering around him while he was struggling with these agonizing dilemmas, his heart would have been completely in tatters. There was a very good reason why out of sight meant out of mind. Regardless, Gi-hyeon was sleeping perfectly fine. His current routine consisted of passing out the second his head hit the pillow and not opening his eyes until the alarm went off the next morning.

But this morning was a little different.

“What is this…”

The moment he woke up, his lower half felt horrifyingly slick and damp. Furrowing his brow in profound discomfort, he immediately got up and headed for the bathroom. The second he pulled his underwear down, he saw that the fabric of his boxer briefs where his perineum rested was completely soaked in a slippery, viscous fluid.

“What the…”

He was completely bewildered.

To make matters worse, the cloying, sweet scent of vanilla cream suddenly filled the air. As someone who exclusively used menthol-scented bath products, Gi-hyeon looked around in confusion. He genuinely wondered if a vanilla-scented product he didn’t know he owned had somehow shattered in the bathroom.

However, unable to find any evidence of a broken bottle, he simply took a quick shower and stepped out.

Rather than dwelling on the bizarre physical anomaly, his mind was entirely dominated by the glorious realization that he could finally eat from the morning menu at the fast-food place today.

Throwing a windbreaker over his uniform, Gi-hyeon immediately left the apartment. The timing was a bit awkward. In moments like this, he couldn’t help but wonder if he should have just accepted the car Jo Yeon-oh had offered to buy him.

Ever since he was a child, his father had severely scolded him, claiming that eating while walking was a terrible habit. Because of that ingrained discipline, trying to eat a McMuffin while walking down the street felt incredibly uncomfortable. If he had a car, he could have just hit the drive-thru, eaten in the driver’s seat, and then headed to work.

Debating whether he should just buy a car, he stepped into the fast-food restaurant. Today, he bought a coffee as well and practically unhinged his jaw, inhaling the egg McMuffin in exactly three bites before walking out. He had been craving this so desperately since yesterday it was driving him insane. Either this, or a tart summer plum. He didn’t even particularly like sour things, which made it all the more bizarre.

He had fully expected the alternating cravings to keep him up all night, but surprisingly, he had fallen asleep the second he lay down.

“Should I eat another one…”

Having already walked a solid hundred meters away from the restaurant, he muttered the question while looking back over his shoulder, but ultimately continued on his way to work.

It was incredibly strange that his desire to sleep was completely overpowering his usually dominant appetite. Tilting his head in confusion, he kept walking, the ice clinking sharply against the metal of his tumbler. As he approached the clinic, the nurses walking ahead of him turned around and began giggling.

Wondering what was so funny, Gi-hyeon offered a polite bow. Smiling warmly, the nurses pointed to the corners of their own mouths. Only then did Gi-hyeon realize something was stuck to his face. It was the undeniable evidence of the McMuffin he had annihilated in three bites.

“Doc, are you saving that for lunch?”

“I was planning to eat it if I got hungry around 11.”

Delivering the deadpan response with absolutely zero change in his expression, the nurses burst into loud laughter once more. The nurses at the clinic were always so quick to laugh. Byeong-ju always claimed they only laughed because it was ‘Dr. So,’ but Gi-hyeon knew he wasn’t nearly funny enough for people to selectively laugh at his jokes.

Regardless, finally having a full stomach gave him a massive boost of energy, and he opted to take the stairs all the way up to the athletes’ lounge instead of the elevator. Gi-hyeon’s morning had started off incredibly well.

Especially compared to the absolute nightmare of an afternoon that had clearly been lying in wait for him.

“Where the hell is So Gi-hyeon.”

When a superior called you by your full name without an honorific in the workplace, it was the universal signal that they were actively preparing to verbally tear you apart.

The moment he heard Team Leader Lim’s voice, Gi-hyeon let out a heavy sigh and stood up. He had been in the middle of demonstrating an ankle mobility exercise for a figure skater. Desperately wanting to ensure the young athlete wouldn’t suffer from chronic aftereffects like he did, he had been paying extra attention to her routine when his name was suddenly barked across the room.

In a space overflowing with rehabilitating patients and athletes, the voice shouting his name like a teacher scolding a disobedient student echoed loudly. Startled, the figure skater looked up at him. Gi-hyeon simply patted her head reassuringly and walked over.

“I said, where the hell is So Gi-hyeon!”

Watching Byeong-ju cautiously peek his head out in alarm, Gi-hyeon let out another low sigh before stepping into the office.

The second Gi-hyeon entered, Team Leader Lim violently slammed the chart he was holding onto the desk.

“Have you completely lost your fucking mind?”

“…I don’t understand what you mean, sir.”

Resting his hands on his hips, Team Leader Lim let out a loud, mocking scoff.

“When I took the morning off yesterday, Patient Lee Seong-mi came down complaining of TMJ pain, and I heard you treated her personally.”

Only then did Gi-hyeon understand the reason for the tantrum. Patient Lee Seong-mi was the younger sister of the 3rd Department Head of Rehabilitation Medicine. Because Team Leader Lim had a mountain of ass-kissing to do with the Department Head, he had personally stepped up to take charge of her treatment.

Yesterday morning, Lee Seong-mi had come down complaining of pain in her right lower jaw. Gi-hyeon had stacked about five wooden tongue depressors, placed them deep against the molars on the opposite side of the pain, and instructed her to bite down with all her strength.

It was a standard prescription for patients who frequently complained of lower jaw pain due to an imbalance in bite force. He had fully intended to report the treatment to Team Leader Lim, but had completely forgotten after rushing down to Family Medicine for his own appointment.

The 3rd Department Head must have personally relayed the story to Team Leader Lim. Rumor had it the 3rd Department Head was planning to leave and open his own private practice by the end of the year. For Team Leader Lim—who desperately wanted to follow him and secure the Head of Physical Therapy position at the new clinic—this was undoubtedly incredibly aggravating.

However, it definitely wasn’t something to be this furious over. In short, it simply meant the man desperately needed a punching bag to vent his frustrations. Proving Gi-hyeon’s theory correct, Team Leader Lim began aggressively jabbing Gi-hyeon’s chest with a ballpoint pen while shouting.

“Tell me right now. Do you think I’m a fucking joke?”

“…”

Since it wouldn’t exactly be a lie to say he did find the man to be a joke, Gi-hyeon chose not to answer. He had absolutely no desire to lie just to defuse the situation. Scoffing at Gi-hyeon’s stoic attitude, Team Leader Lim pressed the pen harder into Gi-hyeon’s chest.

“I said, answer me. Tell me exactly what kind of massive backing you have that allows a bastard who doesn’t even go on medical support dispatches to walk around with such a stiff neck? Your only claim to fame is being friends with the Chairman, isn’t it.”

“…”

Here we go again. Every single time, this exact topic always ended with the man criticizing Gi-hyeon for refusing medical support dispatches. Because he was already incredibly irritated today, Gi-hyeon—who normally would have just muttered a hollow apology to end it—refused to open his mouth. Sensing Gi-hyeon’s defiance, Team Leader Lim began screaming at the top of his lungs, completely ignoring the fact that the athletes outside could hear everything.

“I asked if you think I’m a fucking joke, you little bastard!”

“Isn’t this currently treatment hours.”

It was then that a painfully familiar voice echoed through the room. Startled, Gi-hyeon whipped around.

Standing in the open doorway of the office, looking rugged with deep shadows under his eyes, was undeniably Jo Yeon-oh. His suit jacket was nowhere to be seen; he was dressed only in the vest of his three-piece suit. His tie was loosened, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, giving him a disheveled appearance. Yet, it made him look unapproachable in an entirely different, far more terrifying way than when he was perfectly groomed.

Because he was slightly taller than the doorframe, he had to duck his head to step inside before asking his question again.

“I asked if it was acceptable to scream so loudly that all the patients can hear during treatment hours. Is the question too difficult? Seeing as neither of you is answering.”

Even though he pointed out that neither of them was answering, his icy, tilted gaze was fixed entirely on Team Leader Lim. As if he had exclusively directed the question at him from the very beginning.

“Ah, well, that’s…”

Team Leader Lim wore a rare expression of absolute stupefaction. Because the man was incredibly cunning and possessed excellent political survival skills, he had never once shown his habit of tormenting Gi-hyeon in front of superiors.

Even Lee Beom-hee, who worked in the exact same hospital, had no idea. But to be caught red-handed by the Chairman of the Foundation—by Jo Yeon-oh, no less—was more than enough to leave the man completely panicked.

With one hand casually tucked into the pocket of his suit pants, Jo Yeon-oh tilted his head slightly and spoke.

“Team Leader Lim Hyeong-seop, correct?”

“…Y-yes, yes. That’s correct.”

Team Leader Lim nodded so violently it looked like his head might fall off. Staring down at him through narrowed, predatory eyes, Yeon-oh let out a low hum from his throat.

“Understood.”

That was it. Team Leader Lim wasn’t even given the opportunity to formulate an excuse. Because Jo Yeon-oh immediately turned his back.

“Dr. So Gi-hyeon, follow me.”

With that, he walked straight out of the office. Gi-hyeon genuinely wanted to sigh. Only after Yeon-oh had completely exited the athletes’ lounge did Gi-hyeon finally turn back to Team Leader Lim. Unable to wipe the expression of looking at a profoundly pathetic human being off his face, Gi-hyeon simply opened his mouth.

“I told you you should have reined it in.”

“…What?”

“Now you’ve created a massive headache for yourself.”

Muttering the words as if he couldn’t care less whether the man heard him or not, Gi-hyeon also walked out of the office. Team Leader Lim screamed from behind, demanding to know what the hell that meant, but Gi-hyeon didn’t bother replying.

Looking out into the lounge, every single athlete had stopped exercising, and even the trainers were staring blankly in their direction.

Clicking his tongue, Gi-hyeon exited the athletes’ lounge.

His head pounded, having absolutely no idea how he was going to explain this to the bastard. Stepping out into the hallway, he found Yeon-oh standing in front of the elevators. Gi-hyeon quietly took his place beside him.

Before he could even attempt to initiate a conversation, the elevator arrived with a soft ding. Yeon-oh stepped inside first.

Gi-hyeon had no choice but to follow. Without a single word, Jo Yeon-oh reached out and pressed the button for the very top floor.

“…Are we going to the roof?”

“…”

Jo Yeon-oh didn’t answer. The suffocating silence stretched on until they reached the electronic lock securing the rooftop door. The lock had been installed specifically to prevent athletes or patients from wandering up there, yet somehow, Jo Yeon-oh flawlessly punched in the five-digit code without a second’s hesitation and pushed the door open.

As Yeon-oh took the lead, stepping out into the rooftop garden, Gi-hyeon followed slowly behind and spoke.

“How do you even remember things like that? I can never remember the code.”

“Shut up.”

Without even turning around, Jo Yeon-oh snapped back in a low, dangerous growl. The incredibly dark, suppressed tone indicated he was furiously angry, leaving Gi-hyeon feeling incredibly awkward.

In truth, Gi-hyeon was the one feeling humiliated. Even if their relationship was nothing more than a hollow facade, who would ever be okay with their partner witnessing such a pathetic scene? Being caught getting mercilessly degraded by a superior wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience.

That was exactly why he had never mentioned Team Leader Lim until now. Not only was it bound to cause unnecessary drama, but he also figured complaining about every little slight was pointless. However, a significant part of his silence stemmed from his pride—he simply didn’t want to look pathetic in front of Jo Yeon-oh.

But since he couldn’t exactly confess that openly, he ended up acting defensively instead. Wondering why he was clinging so desperately to his pride now of all times, Gi-hyeon remained silent, merely wiping his forehead with his palm.

Until recently, the weather had been bitterly cold, but now the breeze carried a comforting warmth. The rooftop, finally free from the last unpredictable spring chills, was peaceful and empty. Glancing at Jo Yeon-oh’s broad back, So Gi-hyeon let out a quiet, private sigh.

And then, he asked the question he needed to ask first.

“…Why haven’t you, been answering my calls.”

But Jo Yeon-oh didn’t reply. Gi-hyeon bit down on his lip once more. Frustrated, he rubbed the back of his lukewarm neck.

He wondered if he should start by saying he was sorry for hiding the situation at work. Technically, he hadn’t done anything wrong, but given Jo Yeon-oh’s personality, discovering this now was probably quite a shock.

Sifting through a dozen different ways to start the conversation, Gi-hyeon casually picked one and opened his mouth.

“What you saw earlier was…”

“—Fuck, Gi-hyeon-ah. I told you to shut the fuck up.”

His voice sounded like metal grinding against metal. Jo Yeon-oh spun around to face Gi-hyeon, his eyes violently bloodshot.

Gi-hyeon’s breath caught in his throat. Suddenly, his entire body felt unbearably heavy. No, it wasn’t just heavy—it felt as though he was being physically frozen in place. He felt exactly like prey stripped bare and thrown before an apex predator. The moment Gi-hyeon swallowed a panicked gasp, Jo Yeon-oh’s face contorted fiercely as he closed the distance.

“What the hell is this… Did you seriously put on perfume?”

Closing the distance in a flash, Yeon-oh wrapped his arm around Gi-hyeon’s waist, buried his nose directly into his neck, and practically growled the accusation. Completely bewildered, Gi-hyeon pushed hard against Jo Yeon-oh’s chest.

“Why are you suddenly acting like this? And what perfume.”

Knowing full well that Gi-hyeon never wore any scented products besides the aftershave Yeon-oh occasionally bought him, the sudden accusation was bizarre. Despite Gi-hyeon asking the question, Yeon-oh offered no response. Just as Gi-hyeon was about to demand an explanation again, Jo Yeon-oh let out a cold, mocking scoff.

“Then what, did you actually meet an Omega?”

“…What the hell are you talking about.”

He didn’t understand the meaning, but the question was intensely offensive. Gi-hyeon, who had only been pushing lightly against his chest, shoved him away violently, breaking free from his grip.

Yeon-oh had gripped his waist so tightly that his uniform—made from wrinkle-resistant fabric—was already a crumpled mess. Everything about this situation was exhausting.

Staring intensely at Gi-hyeon, the bastard dragged his index finger roughly across his own brow bone. He looked incredibly anxious. No, he almost looked completely detached, like a man who had just made an incredibly difficult, unforgiving decision.

And then, he spoke abruptly.

“That fucking bastard from earlier—”

“…”

“Hah, forget it. You probably suffered in silence again just to keep it from me.”

At those words, a sudden, blinding spike of irritation flared within Gi-hyeon. His physical condition was already terrible, and the utter humiliation of being caught in such a pathetic state had already ruined his mood. Acting completely out of character for someone who rarely experienced emotional swings, Gi-hyeon couldn’t stop the hostile words from spilling out.

“Why the hell are you speaking to me like that? Watch your fucking mouth.”

“Ah, you’re angry? And you’re directing it at me?”

The face that had clearly resolved to be relentlessly sarcastic was twisted in a beautifully tragic way. Realizing this was just another one of Yeon-oh’s explosive episodes, Gi-hyeon briefly considered just zoning out and thinking about something else.

“You should have gotten angry at that bastard, not me. Aren’t you picking the wrong target? Is it my fault you’re getting utterly crushed by a pathetic piece of trash like that, even when you have the Hospital Director and the Foundation Chairman as your friends?”

Gi-hyeon dragged his tongue over his lower lip. His chest felt as raw as if it had been scrubbed with sandpaper. He already knew the bastard still considered him a friend, but suddenly remembering the myriad of things he had desperately pushed aside because he hadn’t even had the time to cry about them made a sudden wave of grief surge up his throat.

“Are we, friends?”

Hearing those words, Jo Yeon-oh cursed, “You’re spouting absolute fucking nonsense again, goddammit,” grinding the words between his teeth. He licked his lower lip and continued.

“Gi-hyeon-ah, is that really what’s important right now?”

Then? If not now, when is it ever going to be important? To Gi-hyeon, that was the only thing that actually mattered. It was only an irrelevant issue to Jo Yeon-oh, who constantly brushed it aside. Gi-hyeon clamped his mouth shut.

Staring at the silenced Gi-hyeon, Jo Yeon-oh clicked his tongue in frustration.

“I was asking why the hell you’re enduring that shit when I could effortlessly erase him from your sight. You seriously…”

Of course, Gi-hyeon knew Jo Yeon-oh was entirely sincere. But Gi-hyeon had absolutely nothing to say regarding Team Leader Lim. Honestly, the man wasn’t even that bothersome.

Working was exhausting for everyone, and earning a living in the real world was never easy. Because of that, Gi-hyeon was more than capable of handling one Team Leader Lim. Having survived far worse hellholes, enduring a petty, narrow-minded boss whose worst offense was throwing patient charts was incredibly easy.

But the one thing Gi-hyeon truly found impossible to endure was Jo Yeon-oh. He had no idea how long Yeon-oh’s mindset would remain trapped in the illusion of ‘friendship,’ or how much longer he would have to endure a Jo Yeon-oh who fundamentally refused to see him as anything else. Perhaps the blame entirely rested on Gi-hyeon, who had initiated this twisted relationship without ever resolving himself to wait an eternity.

Entirely oblivious to the violent storm raging inside Gi-hyeon’s heart, the bastard patted his pockets as if searching for a cigarette, ultimately gave up, and opened his mouth.

“…I was too busy to answer your calls.”

He was clearly referring to the past few days. Having absolutely nothing to say to that, Gi-hyeon simply nodded. Glancing at Gi-hyeon’s hollow reaction, Jo Yeon-oh closed his mouth again.

He must have genuinely been buried in work, because his complexion was deathly pale. Gi-hyeon stared at him quietly. He was just about to ask if he was sick somewhere.

The bastard parted his lips. It looked as though he were barely managing to perform an impossibly difficult task. Even the slight tremor in his shoulders was entirely unfamiliar.

“To you…”

“…Just say it.”

Gi-hyeon wondered why on earth he was hesitating so much to just speak his mind. Jo Yeon-oh continuously swept his hair back from his forehead. Since his hair was already styled back and there was absolutely nothing falling into his eyes, it was a nervous habit he usually only displayed at home when his bangs annoyed him.

Watching him do that, Gi-hyeon completely forgot how desperately he had wanted to punch the bastard’s jaw just moments ago, and his heart inexplicably lightened. Furthermore, because his body felt increasingly heavy and exhausted, he wanted to abandon this emotionally draining fight and just reconcile.

Jo Yeon-oh throwing tantrums wasn’t exactly a new phenomenon, and since nine times out of ten it was directly related to his obsessive concern for Gi-hyeon, Gi-hyeon’s anger rarely lasted long. Looking at it from the opposite perspective, Gi-hyeon would have been deeply hurt if the roles were reversed. He decided to completely forget the argument about being the ‘Chairman’s friend.’ Not for Jo Yeon-oh’s sake, but for his own, considering his physical condition had been terrible lately.

If they just loosely made up and brushed past this, tomorrow would be manageable again, wouldn’t it? Gi-hyeon desperately wanted things to return to normal. He was just about to suggest they drop the anger, clock out together, and grab dinner.

A low, quiet voice brushed against Gi-hyeon’s ear.

“I slept with… another Omega.”

“…What?”

He had definitely heard the words, but unable to comprehend them, he stared at Jo Yeon-oh. The man, who had already looked uncharacteristically pale today, was now completely drained of blood, looking deathly white.

His complexion was so horrific that Gi-hyeon entirely forgot the words Yeon-oh had just spoken and could only stare at him blankly. He genuinely wanted to ask him again if he was feeling sick.

“With another… Omega…”

Unable to finish the sentence, Jo Yeon-oh clamped a hand over his mouth. Exactly like a man about to vomit. His eyes were red-rimmed from the sheer effort of suppressing a violent wave of nausea.