The words hung over the table like a shroud, suffocating the last remnants of their appetite.
Seo Taejun sat motionless, his gaze fixed on the cooling stew. His face was a mask of stone, but the vein in his temple pulsed; a telltale sign of a rage too large to be voiced.
Slowly, with the heavy movements of a man much older, he set his chopsticks down. They clicked against his ceramic bowl, a sharp sound in the dead silence. Then he pushed his chair back and stood.
"Abeoji?" Seo Soomin called out, her voice trembling. "Yeobo? Where are you going?"
Jaemin's father didn't answer. He walked toward the sliding glass door that led to the small balcony, sliding it open and stepping out into the cool night air, his back a rigid wall against the family inside.
Seo Soomin made to rise, her chair scraping the floor, but a hand landed gently on her arm.
"Stay, Eomeonim," Do-hyun said softly. He stood up, grabbing a bottle of soju from the table and two fresh glasses. He looked at Jaemin for a brief second—an unreadable, dark glance—before turning away. "I will go."
Then he stepped out onto the balcony, sliding the door shut behind him, sealing the two men away in a world of muted gestures and silent communion.
Inside, the air shifted. The oppressive tension dissipated, leaving behind a raw, pulsing ache.
Jina and Junho exchanged a look, their usual banter dead in their throats. They looked at their brother, who was staring at the closed balcony door, his eyes glassy and distant.
"I'll... I'll clear the table," Jina mumbled, breaking the spell. She stood and began stacking plates with careful, quiet movements, as if a loud noise might shatter her brother.
Junho wordlessly joined her, taking the dishes to the kitchen to give their brother some semblance of privacy.
Their mother remained at the table, her gaze resting on her eldest child's pale face. She didn't say anything at first; she simply reached out and took his cold, trembling hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles.
At length, she said softly, "He's a good man, Jaemin-ah."
Jaemin flinched, but Soomin continued, "He won't stand for anyone saying a single bad word about you, not even if it's your father. Honestly, I don't know many people who dare to stand up to your father, but he did, to defend you."
"So that's what he meant." Just yesterday morning, about being mean back.
Jaemin tried to laugh, but his body, as always, betrayed him. His lips twisted, his chin trembling.
'You know you're precious to me, don't you?'
He dropped his face into his hands and began to sob.
"Oh, my child, what's wrong?" Soomin was alarmed. "Did I say something wrong? Has he been hurting you?"
"No." Jaemin shook his head, sobbing harder. "No."
"No? Then why—"
"It's me. I'm the one hurting him." The guilt in his chest was expanding, so large and heavy that it felt like it was crushing his lungs.
"What do you mean?"
Jaemin took a shuddering breath as she pulled his hands from his face. "He's been nothing but lovely to me, Omma. But he—" A fresh wave of tears coursed down his cheeks.
Do-hyun was a good man. He was brilliant, honorable, and fiercely protective. He was everything Jaemin could ever have wanted in a partner, a mate.
A mate Jaemin didn't deserve.
"He shouldn't be here," he choked.
Confused, his mother asked again, "What do you mean?"
"Look at this, Omma." Jaemin gestured helplessly at the table, at the balcony where Do-hyun was probably currently facing the wrath of his father, at the invisible wreckage of his life. "Poison. Scandals. Attacks on the orchestra he's been fighting so hard for all these years. That's what I bring him. That's all I have to offer." His tears, collected at his chin, dripped down.
"I'm damaged goods, Omma. I'm foolish; I let another person brand me. Even now... even after everything, that mark is still causing problems. It almost killed me yesterday.
"I keep hurting him," he wept. "Over and over again. Because of me, he's become a target too... and he just takes it. Because he's too good to walk away from me, because I'm his fated mate, but he deserves so much better, Omma." He squeezed his eyes shut, the image of Do-hyun's bruised hand flashing in his mind. "I'm just… I just keep dragging him down with me."
He bowed his head, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
Soomin drew closer, wrapping her arms around her son and pulling his head to her shoulder. She didn't really understand a lot of what he was talking about, but that didn't mean she couldn't rock him gently, trying to comfort him the way she used to. He clung to her, his tears soaking her shoulder, just as he had when he had been a small child, waking from nightmares that were difficult to shake.
"Oh, my boy," she murmured into his hair, her voice thick and unsteady with his pain. "My silly, silly, darling boy."
She let him cry until the worst of the storm had passed, until his sobs turned into wet, hitching breaths. Then, she pulled back slightly, cupping his tear-stained face in her hands and forcing him to look at her.
"Jaemin-ah," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "My child. Answer me honestly. Do you want him to go?"
Jaemin froze. The question hung in the air, stark and terrifying.
"Would you feel better," she pressed, "if he walked out that door right now and never came back? If he went back to safety, and left you here alone?"
"No," Jaemin whispered, the answer instantaneous.
"Why not?"
"Because I love him," Jaemin confessed, the words tumbling out on another wave of tears. "I love him so much it hurts. Omma, I've never... I've never been as happy as I have been these past few months. Even with the scandal, even with the fear... Waking up next to him makes me feel like I can breathe freely for the first time in years."
He wiped his palms quickly at the wetness on his face.
"I don't want him to leave. I want him to stay, forever. But..." His voice dropped to a whisper. "But I don't want him to stay just because he feels responsible for me, because we're fated, supposedly. I don't want him to sacrifice his own happiness just because he thinks he's obligated to. I don't want…" he swallowed, every word a stab to his heart, "I don't want him to be trapped by a bond he never asked for."
Soomin smiled, a sad, watery expression that crinkled the corners of her eyes. "You really do love him," she observed as she wiped a tear from his cheek with her thumb, then gave a sigh. "And you really are your father's son. So stubborn. So convinced you have to carry the weight of everything on yourself."
She glanced toward the balcony, where Do-hyun's silhouette was visible against the city lights, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Seo Taejun.
"Jaemin-ah," she said, turning back to him. "Do you really think a man like that—an alpha with that much pride—would let himself be trapped by anything? The doctor said he was by your side all night, and he's still in the same clothes he was wearing when we met him yesterday. He doesn't look like he got any sleep at all."
Jaemin's eyes welled up again. "It's probably just because he feels it's his responsibility, Omma."
She shook her head. "I don't think so, Jaemin-ah. I know I'm just a silly old woman now, but as your mother, I've been watching him. When he stumbled in that first time, then at the restaurant when we all went out together, and when he came to meet your father and me. Even tonight, when you weren't looking." She smiled sadly. "He doesn't look at you like a burden, Jaemin-ah. He looks at you like you are the only one that matters."
Jaemin stared at her, his heart pounding a fragile, hopeful rhythm against his ribs. "You really think so?"
Soomin nodded. "Like he would burn the whole world down just to keep you warm."
Jaemin gave a watery laugh. "That's so poetic, Omma. Did you hear it from a drama on TV?"
"No!" she protested, but was relieved when her son let out another wet laugh. "Well, maybe I did… But the point is, Jaemin-ah. I'm your mother, and I know these things."
She reached to cup his pale, wet face, making him meet her gaze.
"He loves you too, Jaemin. No matter how broken, no matter how much trouble you think you are. And that's just what we take on when we love someone.
"I can't say I know anything about, whatever, fated mates, and all that kind of thing… but I know, I know from all the things this man Kang Do-hyun has done for you, all the things that I can see, that he has chosen to love you, whether you think you deserve him or not."
She smoothed his hair back, grounding him with her gentle touch.
"So stop trying to decide for him whether he's happy or not. If he stays, trust him. Believe in him. Let him love you."