If heartbreak had a taste, Bo-ra remembered it vividly. It tasted like melted coffee ice cream on the floor of a Seoul bus terminal and sounded like the fading footsteps of Min-hyuk the day he left for America. No explanations. Just dreams over promises.
She had cried for days. Weeks, even. Wore out her playlist of sad ballads and nearly burned a hole in her pillow from all the sobbing.
And yet, here she was, years later, on the couch of her supposed husband's house, thinking back to the moment Min-hyuk confessed again — this time, not with a suitcase, but with a beer and broken eyes.
"I still love you, Bo-ra."
Those words had echoed in her head all night.
But what echoed louder? Her own voice, soft yet certain:
"I'm sorry, Min-hyuk. I can't go back."
She hadn't realized it until that moment. How final it felt. How... freeing. She didn't feel the same way anymore. The ache she thought would live in her forever was suddenly just a dull memory.
But then came the confusion.
Because while her heart no longer fluttered at Min-hyuk's gaze... it reacted a little too much when Yul sighed.
It all started with a memory. One of those random ones that hit you in the shower or while brushing your teeth.
Yul hiding her under the arcade cabinet in Hongdae so her strict parents wouldn't catch her sneaking out to play video games.
Yul dragging her by the wrist while wearing a hoodie way too big for him, whispering, "You're terrible at hiding. Next time, wear black, not hot pink."
Yul snickering as she tried to keep up, panting, cheeks flushed.
Even when he was cold, even when he teased her, Yul was always there when she needed him. And now... she wasn't sure if it was all pretend anymore.
Was this still a fake marriage?
Because why did it hurt when he ignored her this morning?
Why did it sting when he left for the office without teasing her, without flicking her forehead or stealing her last strawberry mochi?
"What's wrong with him?" she muttered to herself, stirring her cereal aggressively like it was responsible for her emotional spiral. "Why is he acting like I wronged him in his past life?"
She sighed and stood up, deciding to clean the already-clean living room.
And that was the moment fate decided to strike.
Her foot hit the edge of the rug. Her body twisted mid-air in slow motion. Her eyes went wide.
"NOPE NOPE NOPE—!"
THUD.
She landed on the stairs.
Pain shot up her ankle. "Ow, ow, ow!"
Her cereal flew in the air like confetti.
"Perfect. Just perfect," she groaned, clutching her foot. Her pride was the only thing more broken than her ankle.
Just then, the front door creaked open.
Yul.
His voice echoed from the hallway. "I forgot my— Bo-ra?!"
She looked up, trying to smile through the pain.
"Hey," she winced, "Welcome home."
Yul rushed forward like she was made of glass. "What happened?! Did you fall? Why are you like this?!"
"Gee, thanks," she muttered. "Yes, I just decided to experience gravity. Highly recommend it."
He crouched down beside her, eyes scanning her foot. "Can you move it?"
"Not unless you want to hear me scream."
Yul didn't hesitate. Without warning, he slid an arm behind her back and the other under her knees.
"W-Wait! Yul!"
"Don't move. You might make it worse."
He lifted her as if she weighed nothing, carrying her to the couch with the focus of a soldier carrying a wounded comrade.
Bo-ra felt her face burn.
Her nose was an inch from his neck. His cologne smelled like rain and eucalyptus.
Her heart did that thing again. The annoying flutter. Like a K-drama OST was playing in the background.
He set her down gently, grabbing a pillow and propping up her foot.
"Where does it hurt the most?"
"My pride," she mumbled.
He shot her a look.
She looked away, cheeks red.
He examined her ankle, then left briefly, returning with an ice pack.
"This might sting," he said, wrapping her foot.
She nodded, biting her lip.
The silence stretched.
Yul finally broke it. "Why didn't you call me?"
"You were mad at me."
He looked up, surprised. "I wasn't mad."
"You left without saying anything. That's new."
Yul sighed, placing the ice pack more gently than necessary.
"Maybe I was a little... off."
Bo-ra tilted her head. "Why?"
He didn't answer right away.
Because how do you tell someone you're jealous when you're not even supposed to care?
"You don't have to explain," she said softly. "I know the marriage is fake."
That hit him like a punch to the gut.
Fake. Right.
He stood up quickly, dusting off his pants like he'd been rolling in shame.
"I'll go get you some medicine."
Bo-ra watched him retreat to the kitchen, heart heavy.
She clutched the pillow and sighed.
If this is fake, then why does it feel so real?
Why does it hurt when he walks away?
Why does my heart race when he holds me like I matter?
Outside, the rain began to fall.
Inside, two hearts beat a little too loudly in the silence.
To be continued...