The automatic doors of the hospital slid open as Ye-rin rushed inside, suitcase wheels rattling behind her. Her train from Bremen had been delayed twice, and by the time she reached Stuttgart, the sun had already died behind the skyline.
Her fingers trembled as she tried calling Seo-in again—
Straight to voicemail.
"Damn it … Seo-in, pick up."
But the call wouldn't go through.
Of course it wouldn't.
The airport departures board had already confirmed it earlier:
Flight 712—Departed.
Ye-rin stopped in front of Luca's hospital room.
Her chest tightened.
"Fuck," she whispered, nails digging into her palms. "Luca, you idiot … why do you always push people away until there's nothing left to save?"
She had known the truth all along—the real reason Luca sent Seo-in away.
And yet she had been forced to keep his secret.
To stand by and watch everything fall apart exactly how he believed it must.
She pressed a trembling fist against the doorframe.
"You always choose suffering," she hissed under her breath. "You always choose to lose."
Her voice cracked.
"…And now she's gone."
-------------------------------------------------------------
Flashback
-------------------------------------------------------------
One quiet afternoon at the office, Luca's phone lit up with an unknown number. He hesitated, heart stuttering in his chest. Something felt wrong.
He answered anyway.
"Luca."
The voice was crisp, cold—familiar in the worst possible way.
Seo-in's father.
Luca went rigid, fingers tightening around the phone.
"Sir," he said carefully, keeping his tone neutral even as dread pooled in his stomach. "How can I help you?"
A long, deliberate pause followed—too long. The kind of silence used by people who enjoyed watching others squirm.
Then:
"We need to talk. Meet me this afternoon at Café Laurent. 1 PM sharp." Another brief pause, colder than steel. "If you care about my daughter's future at all … you'll be there."
The call ended.
No goodbye.
No room for refusal.
Luca stood frozen for several seconds, the dead line humming softly against his ear.
This wasn't an invitation.
It was a verdict.
---
He arrived at Café Laurent exactly at 1 PM, anxiety tightening around his ribs like a vice. The café was elegant—polished marble floors, soft classical music, porcelain cups worth more than his monthly rent. A place he didn't belong.
Seo-in's father sat in the corner booth, immaculate as ever, sipping espresso with the calm of someone who already owned the outcome of this conversation.
Luca approached and sat down without being offered a seat.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then:
"I'll be blunt."
He placed his cup down with a soft, precise click.
"Leave my daughter."
The words dropped like a blade between them.
Luca's fingers curled into fists beneath the table.
But he kept his voice steady.
"…Or?"
Seo-in's father leaned forward, and for the first time, Luca saw something colder than disdain—contempt.
"Or I will ruin you."
The room seemed to tilt for a second.
"I plan to match Seo-in with a man in Korea. A proper man. Has she not told you this?" he asked, almost lazily.
Luca's breath hitched.
"No," he said quietly. "She didn't."
Of course she didn't.
Why would she burden him with that?
Why would she believe he could compete?
Her father continued, unaware—or uncaring—of the chaos shredding Luca's insides.
"Good. Then you understand the situation."
A calculated pause.
"If you truly care for her … you will step aside. Quietly."
Luca swallowed hard.
"No … I can't." His voice cracked, then steadied with raw resolve. "I love Seo-in."
Her father's eyebrow twitched—the smallest sign of irritation, like Luca had said something offensive.
"Love?"
He almost laughed.
"You think you have earned that word?"
Luca met his gaze anyway.
"I do love her. And that's exactly why I can't let this happen."
Seo-in's father leaned back, studying him like something under a microscope.
Then, with a voice dipped in venom:
"What can you possibly give her?"
"What makes you worthy of my daughter?"
The questions hit like a punch, hollowing Luca out from the inside.
What could he give Seo-in?
He had no wealth.
No status.
No certainty for the future.
Nothing but loyalty, devotion, and love that came with no guarantees.
Still—
"I'm loyal," he whispered. It sounded too small in the lavish café, but there was steel beneath it.
Seo-in's father snorted softly.
"Loyal?" He tilted his head, voice slicing clean through Luca's chest. "My daughter could raise a dog. And frankly … a dog seems more trustworthy than you."
Luca's fists clenched under the table at the insult. A primitive, feral part of him wanted to lunge across the pristine tablecloth—wanted to grab this man by the collar and shake him until every condescending word shook loose from his skull.
But he didn't move.
Didn't blink.
When he finally spoke, his voice came out flat, razor-thin:
"Maybe that's because a dog is better treated."
Seo-in's father lifted his hand. His thumb and index finger hovered a fingernail apart—showing exactly how small, how insignificant he believed Luca to be.
Then he sneered.
"I doubt you can protect Seo-in—even if she treats you like a king. You have no guarantee. Nothing to offer."
The words hit like a blow to the ribs.
Luca refused to flinch, even as humiliation prickled hot under his skin.
He knew he had no guarantees—no wealth, no prestige, no legacy to offer someone like Seo-in.
All he had were dreams, a spine of loyalty, and a love too earnest for a world this cruel.
He forced himself to look her father in the eye.
"I'm not asking her to treat me like anything," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm asking you to let her decide."
"No."
The refusal came sharp, immediate, merciless.
"You will leave her. Otherwise, she will be the one who loses us—her family."
Luca felt the floor drop from beneath him.
A cold, ugly mix of anger and disbelief churned inside his chest.
How could this man—her father—talk about her like she was nothing more than a piece on a chessboard?
His voice scraped out, low and dangerous:
"And if I don't?"
Seo-in's father didn't even blink.
"Then we will disown her. We will treat her the same way we treat you—a selfish scumbag with no family ties."
He leaned in, voice heavy with cruelty.
"If something happens to her one day—whether it's because of you or someone else—we will not help her. And you know how difficult that would be for Seo-in … and her mother."
Luca's breath stuttered.
He felt sick—physically sick.
They'd really go that far?
Cut her off completely?
Destroy her entire future just to get him out of the picture?
His voice trembled with outrage:
"You'd really do that to her? Your own daughter?"
Seo-in's father's expression didn't change.
"It's your decision, Luca."
A soft, deadly calm.
"Leave her … or we remove her name from our family."
Every muscle in Luca's body screamed to fight.
To slam his fist on the table.
To tell this man he had no right—none—to weaponize the one thing Seo-in feared losing most: her family.
But underneath the rage … another voice whispered.
A quieter one.
A broken one.
If you stay, she loses everything.
If you leave, she'll hate you … but she'll be safe.
His throat tightened.
Slowly, almost mechanically, Luca pushed back his chair.
He stood. And then—because desperation had hollowed out his pride—he bowed, deep and trembling.
"Please … give me a chance."
His voice cracked.
"I—I can't let her go. And I can't let her lose her family because of me."