Chapter 53

For the next several days, his mornings were consumed by the grueling commute to Ilsan, ruthlessly ironing out details with the interior design firm.

The contractor explained that since the structural framing was sound, the finishing work had progressed at breakneck speed. Only the wallpapering remained, perfectly aligning with his scheduled move-in date.

Hoping to curry favor, Gi-hyeon had generously ordered Chinese delivery for the entire crew. When he tried to sneak away after footing the bill, they aggressively pressured him into joining them, a battle of wills he ultimately lost. Defeated, Gi-hyeon found himself awkwardly squatted on the newspaper-covered floor, slurping down a bowl of spicy jjampong alongside the dusty workers.

“If you’re moving to this neighborhood, this place makes the best food. They actually use proper potato starch for their tangsuyuk batter.” A middle-aged woman assigned to the wallpapering piled a small mountain of sweet and sour pork onto Gi-hyeon’s empty pickled radish dish, warmly insisting he eat more.

“Listen to this woman! The landlord is a handsome young buck, so suddenly your own husband doesn’t even exist, huh?”

“Damn right! If you looked even half as good as him, you’d be the only man I ever looked at!”

The gruff man slurping jjajangmyeon next to her, presumably her husband and plastering partner, barked his irritation. The woman shot back without missing a beat, sending the entire room into roaring laughter. Catching the infectious mood, Gi-hyeon offered a quiet, genuine smile. Throwing his head back in raucous laughter was still beyond him; a simple curve of his lips was the best he could manage, but it felt remarkably more natural than before. He briefly wondered if resigning from the hospital had lifted a weight off his chest, but the suffocating memory of that bright red ember burning stubbornly in the predawn parking lot sent his mood plummeting.

“By the way, this definitely looks like a house you’re prepping for a kid. Doesn’t the baby’s mother want to come check on the progress?” the woman pressed.

Offering a practiced nod, Gi-hyeon fed her a seamless lie. “Yeah, she told me to just handle everything.”

Upon reflection, it wasn’t really a lie at all.

He was simultaneously the mother and the father; handling it entirely on his own was exactly the plan. Once the child grew old enough to develop their own distinct tastes, loudly declaring what they loved and despised, he fully intended to pack up and move to a home that suited them. For the foreseeable future, an infant whose only hobby was screaming on schedule would hardly care about interior design, so he planned to live practically until then.

Still, eating in a bustling crowd for the first time in ages must have opened his appetite, because he ate far more than he usually managed alone. The sudden, leaden weight in his stomach was actually rather problematic, considering he had a dinner appointment that very evening. He had fervently prayed for Damon, or whatever the hell his name was, to abruptly cancel, but such miracles rarely graced So Gi-hyeon’s life.

Desperate to digest the massive lunch, he stubbornly ignored the crew’s protests and aggressively tidied the scattered takeout containers before sweeping the dusty floor. Knowing he had to brave the Jayuro Highway, he aimed to beat the rush hour traffic. As he headed for the door, the contractor waved.

“Heading out already?”

“Yes. I leave the rest in your capable hands.”

The man offered a bright smile and told him to travel safely. Gi-hyeon returned the smile, bowed respectfully, and abandoned the Ilsan villa for the grueling drive back to Seoul. Despite his desperate attempt to beat the clock, he plunged headfirst into brutal rush hour gridlock. The agonizing delay meant he would have to drive straight to the restaurant without stopping home.

The only silver lining was his utter familiarity with the destination. Jo Yeon-oh, who despised eating at home and preferred dragging Gi-hyeon across the city, had dragged him to this exact establishment as frequently as a cow led by a nose ring. The route was so deeply ingrained in his muscle memory that he crossed the bridge and plunged into the bustling downtown district without even glancing at the navigation system.

Tossing the keys to the valet upon arrival, he was about to step inside when a massive imported SUV rolled up. Damon stepped out, his timing impeccable.

“Hello there.”

“Yes, hello.”

Gi-hyeon stared at him with an expression of mild exhaustion. This was the man who, after being rejected twenty times, had cheerfully offered a twenty-first invitation. Damon was impeccably dressed in a light, tailored jacket perfect for the warming weather. The sharp outfit contrasted handsomely with the deep, sun-kissed tan typical of an outdoor sports star. Gi-hyeon, who possessed a solid frame but hated his persistently pale complexion, felt a sharp twinge of envy toward the man’s vibrant, healthy glow.

“Shall we head inside?”

Unlike the panicked mess who had wept over his inability to drive on the day of the accident, Damon smoothly and confidently guided Gi-hyeon forward.

Figuring he might as well enjoy a decent meal since he had already made the trek, Gi-hyeon abandoned his resistance and followed him inside. Damon had clearly secured a reservation, leading them directly to a private room tucked deep in the back. Gi-hyeon briefly considered ordering his usual, the dish he always ate with Jo Yeon-oh, but deliberately pivoted to something he had never tasted before.

Damon threw him a curious glance before instructing the server to bring him the exact same thing. Since the meal was served as a massive traditional spread, Gi-hyeon knew it would take a while. Excusing himself to use the restroom, he slipped out of the private room.

Having been dragged here countless times by Jo Yeon-oh, who made it his mission to force-feed the notoriously picky Gi-hyeon, he navigated the labyrinthine hallways with ease. Striding toward the restrooms without a guide, he was suddenly intercepted by the restaurant manager approaching from the opposite direction.

“Have you just arrived? Director Jo already started his meal, but he didn’t mention you were joining him,” the manager remarked casually out of nowhere.

Gi-hyeon ruthlessly suppressed the urge to click his tongue in absolute disgust.

Apparently, Jo Yeon-oh was also dining here tonight. Just as the manager opened his mouth to say more, a crackle from his earpiece derailed his train of thought. Muttering a hurried apology, he rushed off to attend to a staff crisis. Gi-hyeon was left alone in the silent hallway, releasing a long, weary sigh.

“…You.”

The voice was violently familiar.

Gi-hyeon debated simply walking away, but morbid curiosity forced him to turn around. Standing at the far end of the corridor, perfectly framing the path the manager had just taken, Jo Yeon-oh stared back at him with an expression carved from granite. Yeon-oh hesitated for a fraction of a second before stalking toward him. Every ounce of hesitation evaporated from his terrifyingly swift strides; Gi-hyeon realized it would take the bastard barely seconds to close the distance.

“Gi-hyeon-ssi,” Damon’s voice called out from directly behind Jo Yeon-oh.

They had officially exchanged names, but Damon dropping the formalities to use his given name was entirely unprecedented. Gi-hyeon’s brow furrowed involuntarily; his deeply ingrained nature made him violently allergic to people aggressively invading his personal boundaries. Furthermore, considering the explosive tension crackling in the air, he desperately wished Damon had just quietly disappeared. Instead, the athlete materialized from behind Jo Yeon-oh and marched cheerfully toward Gi-hyeon.

As Damon strode past Yeon-oh, the bastard’s lips curled into a vicious, mocking sneer as he sized the other man up. Just looking at that toxic expression gave Gi-hyeon a raging migraine. There was no predicting what a deeply pissed-off Jo Yeon-oh might do. Despite being raised in the sterile lap of extreme wealth, the bastard possessed a terrifyingly violent streak. Gi-hyeon had no choice but to brace himself and run interference for the blissfully ignorant Damon.

Raking his icy gaze over Damon with open contempt, Yeon-oh sneered at Gi-hyeon. “You really wanted to drag a thing like this to our spot?”

The sheer audacity of his casual tone was the most infuriating part. Yeon-oh’s presence was undoubtedly a coincidence, he was clearly here to host or endure a high-stakes business dinner, so Gi-hyeon couldn’t fault him for that. But addressing him as if the world hadn’t completely shattered was entirely unacceptable. He had unilaterally terminated their relationship as if he owned the exclusive rights to it, and now he was blatantly ignoring Gi-hyeon’s demand to never see his face again. They hadn’t just gotten into a petty spat over a game of jokgu; they were practically strangers now.

“Gi-hyeon-ssi, is this someone you know?” Damon interjected, boldly stepping between them.

The question caught Gi-hyeon entirely off guard.

Damon had stood right there and witnessed the explosive screaming match outside the hospital; how could he possibly ask that?

Yeon-oh clearly shared the exact same thought. Letting out a sharp bark of laughter, he glared at Damon.

“Playing dumb like a little fox, aren’t we? You know exactly who I am.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Damon replied smoothly. “More importantly, Gi-hyeon-ssi, do you have further business here? Our food should be arriving soon. Why don’t we head back inside?”

At Damon’s blatant dismissal, Yeon-oh aggressively pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, making it bulge like he was sucking on a hard candy. A sinister smirk twisted his lips. “It’s honestly a talent, picking up pathetic trash like this wherever you go.”

The venom was hurled directly at Gi-hyeon; those freezing eyes never once left Gi-hyeon’s face. He was clearly vibrating with rage, though Gi-hyeon couldn’t fathom why he was so furious, nor did he possess a single ounce of patience to indulge his temper tantrum.

Just as Gi-hyeon opened his mouth to tell Damon to leave, Yeon-oh’s arm shot out, violently snatching the back of Damon’s collar. Damon was by no means a small man, but Yeon-oh’s overwhelming physical superiority was undeniable. He hoisted Damon upward so aggressively that the athlete’s suit jacket bunched awkwardly around his ears, forcing his arms to lift helplessly.

“What is the meaning of this—!”

“Why do you keep asking so many fucking questions? Are you interested in me? Want my number?” Yeon-oh sneered, his eyes frozen over with absolute malice.

Damon’s face scrunched in fierce disgust at the sheer mockery radiating from the bastard’s features.

Gi-hyeon was just about to scream at him to stop. Instead, his jaw snapped shut and his entire body petrified. A violently repulsive sensation was suddenly creeping over his skin, suffocating him. It was an overwhelming, crushing pressure. It felt exactly like having a soaking wet, heavy towel draped over his back, damp, claustrophobic, and sickening.

Instantly, his gaze snapped to Damon. The athlete was unleashing hostile Alpha pheromones directly at his aggressor. Having never been hit point-blank by the terrifying pressure of weaponized pheromones before, Gi-hyeon was plunged into pure panic.

Clearly sensing the violent churn of Damon’s aura, Yeon-oh’s brow furrowed sharply. Then, he muttered something utterly incomprehensible.

“You aren’t… a Beta—”

The second the words left his mouth, Yeon-oh suddenly gagged violently, his hand flying up to clamp over his own mouth. Gi-hyeon was intimately familiar with that exact physical revulsion. His deep-seated, pathological phobia of Alpha-Beta relationships had just been brutally triggered. Being a staggeringly rare dominant Alpha, there was zero chance Yeon-oh was actually being suppressed by Damon’s pheromones. His bewildered muttering proved he hadn’t realized Damon was an Alpha until that very second. Yeon-oh’s violent nausea was purely a knee-jerk reaction to witnessing So Gi-hyeon, a supposed Beta, acting so intimately with an Alpha.

Because he hadn’t unleashed enough force to completely level the room, Damon looked equally shell-shocked by Yeon-oh’s sudden breakdown. Watching the massive bastard sprint toward the restrooms with his hand clamped over his mouth, Gi-hyeon let out an exhausted sigh and turned to his dinner companion.

“…Go back to the room and wait. We have history. I need to go check on him.”

“But…”

Ignoring whatever Damon was desperately trying to say, Gi-hyeon brushed past him. Even the simple act of walking felt unimaginably draining; he ruthlessly swallowed down another sigh. No footsteps followed him. The suffocating realization that Damon hadn’t retreated to their room, but was standing perfectly still, burning holes into his retreating back, made Gi-hyeon’s exhaustion violently multiply.

Retching and choked gasps echoed from the confines of the restroom. Gi-hyeon drifted toward the agonizing sounds. The door was shoved half-open. Yeon-oh was doubled over, white-knuckling the rim of the toilet bowl, gagging violently.

…The sight was painfully familiar.

So Gi-hyeon’s very first love confession had been met with this exact same visceral revulsion. How had he felt back then? The memory was mercifully blurred.

For a long moment, Gi-hyeon simply stared at that impossibly broad back. The chaotic storm of emotions churning in his chest was inevitable. He could have easily ignored the bastard and walked away, but he blamed his relentless pursuit on deeply ingrained habit. Worrying about an ex was pathetic enough; worrying about a man he had permanently severed from his life was pure lunacy.

Yet, the severed edge of his affection wasn’t a clean, surgical cut. It had snapped brutally, leaving behind ragged splinters and tiny, jagged crumbs. Gi-hyeon wanted to meticulously sweep up every last microscopic piece of that debris. That was the only reason he had bothered to follow Jo Yeon-oh into the bathroom.

“Are you okay?” Gi-hyeon stepped close and began firmly patting his back.

The moment his palm made contact, he felt the massive muscles flinch and shudder violently. The agonizing dry heaves finally seemed to be subsiding. Having spent the last several days practically clinging to the porcelain throne himself due to severe morning sickness, Gi-hyeon felt a useless, empathetic pang of concern. And then, an epiphany of pure, crystal-clear realization spilled from his lips.

“If the mere thought disgusts you this much, how the hell did you endure seven whole years with me?”