chapter 15

Inside the room, Bo Mi sat on the edge of her bed, legs pulled to her chest.Her head leaned against her knees, her fingers trembling slightly.Her breath was shaky—but not from the fever this time.

Her grandmother sat beside her, rubbing her back softly.

“Bo Mi,” she said gently, “I know it’s hard. But you don’t always have to carry this alone.”

Bo Mi didn’t answer.Her throat burned too much for words.

A soft knock tapped on the doorframe.

It was Sugang.

“Can I come in?” he asked, voice quieter than usual.

The grandmother gave Bo Mi’s shoulder a squeeze before standing.“I’ll give you two a moment.”

As she passed Sugang, she whispered again, “Be kind with her.”

He nodded.

Now it was just them—Bo Mi, sitting with her back curled up, and Sugang, standing near the door.

He walked in slowly. His footsteps were unusually hesitant.

“I didn’t mean to stay so long…” he muttered, looking around awkwardly.“I just wanted to see if you were doing okay.”

Bo Mi lifted her head slightly. Her eyes were still red.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered. “You saw what just happened.”

Sugang shrugged. “It’s not like I’m afraid of your mom.”

That made her let out a small puff of air—something between a scoff and a laugh.

Then silence filled the room again.

Sugang walked closer, his hands still in his pockets.

“I heard what you said,” he added after a pause.

Bo Mi looked at him, eyes heavy.

“You were honest,” he continued. “That’s more than most people are.”

She looked away, embarrassed.

“I didn’t mean to make things worse between us,” she said softly. “I just—felt overwhelmed. And I didn’t want to keep pretending like I’m ready for something when I’m not.”

He stood for a moment, thinking.Then slowly, he sat beside her—just close enough for her to feel his presence, not his touch.

“Bo Mi,” he said, not looking at her, “I didn’t like you because I expected something from you. I liked you because even when you’re quiet… you’re still real.”

She blinked slowly.Her voice came out small.“Why do you talk like you understand everything?”

He smirked. “Because I don’t.”

That made her laugh, just a little.

“Get some rest,” he added, standing up again. “I’ll bring you your notes tomorrow. Don’t worry. They’ll be written in perfect, messy handwriting.”

He turned to leave.

But just before he could, she said,“Sugang.”

He turned his head.

“…Thank you. For being here.”

He smiled—not his usual smug smirk, but something gentler.

“Always.”

Then he left the room, gently pulling the door behind him.

Outside, her mother was still seated on the couch, face buried in her phone.

And Sugang… just kept walking.His hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable again.

But inside Bo Mi’s room—For the first time in days,She closed her eyesand felt a little less alone.

After the heated argument earlier, the house had fallen into a heavy silence.

Sugang stood quietly near the door, glancing once at the closed door of Bo Mi’s room.

He exhaled.

Bo Mi’s mother reappeared from the kitchen, arms crossed, eyes still clouded from the earlier tension.She didn’t speak. She just watched him.

“I should get going,” Sugang finally said, voice low.

The grandmother peeked from the kitchen and nodded faintly.

“Thank you for helping, Sugang,” she said gently. “And… sorry again for all this.”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. I get it.”

Bo Mi’s mother narrowed her eyes slightly but said nothing.

As he walked to the door, he turned once more—just to glance back.

Back at that closed door.

He wanted to knock. He wanted to ask if she was okay.But he didn’t. Not now.

He simply stepped out into the night.

Just as he was walking down the stairs of the apartment building, Bo Mi’s grandmother, still inside, looked at her daughter.

“You staying tonight?”

“I’ll stay,” her mom replied, sitting on the couch with a sigh. “Not because of her. But because I feel like I should.”

The grandmother said nothing.

Meanwhile, in Bo Mi’s room, she lay under her blanket, eyes open, staring at the ceiling.

She felt lighter after letting some things out, but Sugang’s quiet retreat still echoed in her heart.

She whispered, mostly to herself:

“Tomorrow’s my birthday…”

She turned away and shut her eyes.

The next morning.

Bo Mi sat in the dining table. Her grandmother was in the kitchen.Arranging things for her birthday

Today was her birthday.

She hated birthdays. Especially this one.It only reminded her of the person she missed the most—her father.

She sat up quietly, as she looked at the card . At the bottom, beneath old notebooks and scribbled paper scraps, was a faded birthday card.

The last one her dad ever gave her.

She didn’t open it. She couldn’t.She just stared at it, fingers brushing the edge.

It opened.

Her mother soft quietly. “You’re awake.”

Bo Mi said nothing.

Her mom stepped in, slowly. Her usual confidence was absent. “I’m going out for a while. Do you need anything?”

Bo Mi finally looked at her. “Why did you come yesterday?”

Her mother hesitated. “Because… you were sick.”

“No.” Bo Mi's voice was sharp. “You came to pretend you care.”

The silence was cold.

“You always come when I’m already broken. When things are ugly. You come to show you're still the mom, still in control, but you don’t even know me.”

Her mom crossed her arms, looking defensive. “Don’t act like you know everything, Bo Mi. I did what I could—”

“You left him,” Bo Mi said. Voice trembling now. “You left him. When he needed you the most.”

Her mother’s face hardened. “Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.”

“I understand enough!” she burst out. “He raised me. He gave up everything. And what did you do? Disappear. Then show up every few months with your ‘concern’ and your judgment.”

Her mother turned away. “Believe what you want.”

Bo Mi looked away, her eyes brimming with tears again.

And then—Her grandmother came out of the kitchen with a cake.It was planned.

She insisted Bo Mi to atleast cut the cake.

Before she could blow out the candle.

knock.

Everyone looked toward the door.

Bo Mi’s heart skipped.

Her grandmother opened it.

It was Sugang.

He stood there, holding a small paper bag.

“Ah, you again,” her mom muttered coldly behind Bo Mi.

Sugang’s eyes scanned the room and landed on Bo Mi. He blinked, confused by the candlelit cake, her tear-stained face, the open letter on the table.

“I didn’t know it was your birthday,” he said softly.

Bo Mi stayed silent.

He stepped in, unsure if he was even welcome.

“I just came to give you this.” He held up the paper bag. “Soup. Grandma said you were still a bit weak.”

Bo Mi wiped her tears. “You didn’t have to—”

Then, out of nowhere, her mom spoke, voice sharp.“Are you her boyfriend or something?”

Sugang blinked.

He turned toward the woman.

“No,” he said at first. “But I want to be.”

Bo Mi gasped.

Her mother scoffed. “You’re joking, right? You look like trouble—”

“Omma.” Bo Mi’s voice cut in.

Everyone turned.

“I don’t need your opinion on this.” Her voice shook but was steady. “You weren’t here for birthdays. Or crying nights. Or anything.”

Her mom went stiff.

Sugang stood frozen.

“I’m tired of walking on eggshells around you,” she continued. “Today, for once, I’ll do what I want.”

Then she looked at Sugang. “Thank you. For coming.”

He nodded slowly, still holding the soup.

“Oh, come in,” she said with a gentle smile.

He stood still for a second—hesitating, maybe thinking if it was the right moment—but then stepped inside with a quiet nod.

The room was awkwardly silent for a second.Her mother glanced at him, not hiding her suspicion.

But Sugang didn’t seem to care.

They all sat down.

The small birthday cake was placed in the middle of the table. Simple. Homemade. But it meant something.

Her grandmother lit the candle.

Bo Mi didn’t smile much—but she blew out the candle as the three of them clapped softly.She could feel the weight of her mother’s gaze and Sugang’s silence, and it felt like a dream that didn’t know whether to be sweet or bitter.

Then, without a word, he got up from his seat.

“I should leave now,” he said politely, looking toward her grandmother.

Her grandmother nodded with a warm smile. “Thank you for coming. But atleast have some cake.”

He spoke—"Thankyou. But i already late."

Bo Mi got up too, silently walking with him to the door.

As he slipped on his shoes, he turned toward her—voice softer than usual.

“Happy Birthday.”

She smiled, a small one. “Thank you.”

Then he turned to go, but paused just before opening the door.

“Are you fine now?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.

She nodded, caught off guard by his tone.

Then came the twist.

“Then be ready at five. I’ll be here.”

Her brows furrowed. “What?”

But before she could ask anything more, he smiled—a rare, almost teasing smile—and walked away.

Leaving her standing at the door, stunned.

----

"Hello."

She stood at the doorway, slightly breathless—not from rushing, but from the sight in front of her.

Sugang stood there in a formal black suit, crisp white shirt underneath, and no tie—just enough to look effortlessly sharp. His hair was neatly parted, the light catching the strands just right.

He looked... good. Really good.

Bo Mi’s heart skipped, her fingers tightening around the doorknob.

"You look good," she said, her voice soft, almost lost in the quiet buzz of the evening.

Sugang blinked, clearly not expecting it. A faint blush spread across his cheeks as he reached up and rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.

Bo Mi was wearing a soft ivory dress with delicate floral embroidery near the hem. The sleeves were sheer, falling just below her elbows, and the neckline was simple yet elegant. Her hair was tied half-up with a ribbon that matched the dress—subtle, timeless. She looked like the first breath of spring after a long winter.

Sugang’s eyes lingered for a moment—he didn’t say anything, but his expression spoke enough.

Then, out of nowhere, he muttered, “Sorry.”

She tilted her head, confused. “Why?”

He looked at her for a second, then smiled. “You’ll know. But for now… it’s okay.”

He reached out his hand.

"Let's go."

And just like that, they stepped out together into the cool twilight, neither of them knowing how much the night was about to change everything.

The ride was quiet, yet comforting. Neither spoke much, but the silence between them wasn’t heavy—it was filled with the gentle hum of anticipation.

Sugang led her down a narrow path lit with tiny garden lights, her hand occasionally brushing against his. Bo Mi kept glancing around, unsure where they were heading until the trees parted—and then she saw it.

A small pedestrian bridge stretched over a calm river, the moonlight shimmering on the water’s surface. The city lights glowed faintly in the distance, but here—it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

“Wow…” Bo Mi whispered, taking in the scene.

Sugang just smiled.

They walked to the center of the bridge, the wooden planks creaking softly under their steps. The breeze was cool, brushing her cheeks and fluttering her dress slightly.

Then suddenly—

Boom.

Bo Mi flinched.

Another boom—and then the sky lit up.

Fireworks.

Golden sparks danced above them, followed by pinks and blues and silver that scattered like rain across the sky. Her eyes widened in surprise, hands gently covering her mouth. The reflection of each burst lit up her face.

"It’s beautiful…" she whispered.

Sugang didn’t reply.

Because while she looked up, mesmerized by the sky—he looked at her.

And to him, nothing in the sky could compare.

The colors flickered across her cheeks, her hair swaying slightly with the wind. Her lips parted in awe, and in that moment—he had never seen anything more perfect.

“Bo Mi,” he said quietly.

She turned to him, eyes bright, still dazzled by the colors above.

He took a slow step closer.

“I wanted to give you something you’d remember.”

She blinked, surprised, heart pounding now not from the fireworks—but from the way his voice dropped to a whisper.

And then, another explosion of lights above them—this time gold and slow-burning—and for a second, she wasn’t sure whether it was her breath or her thoughts that had stopped.

He held out his hand.

"Can I stay in your memory tonight?"

Bo Mi stared.

Then slowly, wordlessly, her hand found his.

The last firework bloomed in the sky—a cascade of shimmering gold that lit up Bo Mi’s face with awe. Her eyes sparkled, lost in the moment.

But Sugang wasn’t watching the sky.

He was watching her.

The glow of the lights danced in her eyes, and the wind gently tugged her hair. For a moment, she looked almost unreal—like a painting too delicate to touch.

He took a quiet step closer.

“Bo Mi,” he said, voice steady but low.

She turned to him, her cheeks still warm from the cold and the fireworks.

He inhaled. "I love you."

Her smile faded slowly, eyes blinking once.

“I’ve loved you for a while now,” he continued, his voice soft. “It’s not something I planned. It just… happened. Every time you laughed, every time you looked away, even when you were angry at me—I just kept falling more.”

She froze.

“I know you’re not ready,” he added quickly, searching her expression. “And that’s okay. I don’t expect anything right now. But I needed to say it. Not because I want something from you… just because you deserve to know.”

He reached into his coat and pulled out a small velvet box—not a grand ring, not even flashy.

Just a thin, silver promise band.

“I don’t know what we’ll be tomorrow. Or a year from now. But if there’s a part of you that ever wants to try… I’m here.”

Bo Mi stared at the box, then at him.

Her lips quivered. Her voice didn’t come.

She looked down.

Not because she didn’t feel something—but because she did.

Too much.

“I…”

But no words followed.

Sugang’s face softened. He nodded gently and put the box away, not out of anger, but respect.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You don’t have to say anything tonight.”

He gave her a small smile, his hand brushing hers briefly.

“I just wanted you to know what’s in my heart.”

Then he stepped back slowly, giving her space, his figure fading gently into the moonlit path behind the bridge.

Bo Mi remained still.

Frozen.

Tears didn’t fall. But her heart was loud.

So loud, she was afraid he might hear it even from a distance.