It's difficult to say if this is supposed to be a moment meant to be seen as an opportunity or an utter resemblance of tyranny. But either way, my mind remains blank of any answers to all the questions I'm trying to ask every existing representation of a deity. Is this bad luck or destiny? Will this help me or leave me in ruins? But most of all, why did he come back? There were so many days when he should've shown—so many days when I wanted him to hear a piece of my mind and it feels like hell now that I've finally realized that I'll be working with him for five painful months. So much conflict is hanging between the two of us to the point where it's slightly impossible to take things professionally.

"We need to talk," he says in a tone that's deeper than his usual voice. Or maybe that was just a year ago. Maybe a lot of things about him have actually changed since the last time I saw him on that same Busan dock with his feet immersed in the steady sway of the water, his shoulders wrapped in a thick trench coat and his hair flying with the wind in a way that made a woman stop just to stare. I remember it all perfectly; the words we said, the comfort we offered, the things we tried to forget but ended up remembering. He wasn't an old flame. He wasn't an ex-boyfriend. He was an old friend that had so many mistakes tied to him. Despite the fact that I accepted the advice he offered during the days when I waited for Joo Hyuk to come back to me in Busan, I'm still trying to forget until today just because of one question that had everything crashing back to me. "Sung Kyung," he calls again because of how immobile I am—just standing there staring at him with a numb gaze. "We need to talk," he says once more, grabbing my wrist and dragging me to the nearest empty conference room. He was looking at me and I'm not sure what it meant. I didn't know what his stiff posture meant. I didn't know what his pursed lips meant. I didn't know what his flaring nose meant. I didn't know him. "Where is he?" he asks and the angry manner by which he stresses each word of that question has me confused and angry myself. I ball my fists and stare back at him, meeting his intense brown eyes.

"I don't want to talk to you," I say and even if it's such a weak reply, I want him to hear that I don't want him involved with me anymore. I don't even want him breathing near me because his innocence just makes my guilt ooze out of me no matter how much I try to cover it all up. "Don't make the problem go bigger than how it already is, Bo Gum," I shakily grab the door knob to leave but his voice stops me.

"How could you do that to me, Sung Kyung?" he asks quietly—softly and my heart breaks with his voice. I could feel the pain laced in every word that leaves his lips and it makes me want to cover my ears and cry on my own. I've done so much to mend the things I regret. I've done so much to heal all the people I hurt. But this man standing in front of me, trying to keep the tears from falling down his cheeks, being strong for the both of us, I don't know what do because maybe, there's nothing we could do anymore—we just have to leave things the way they are so we could forget about them. "How could you do that to her?" he sniffs and my knees start shaking, my breaths coming out shorter than the last.

"I was confused," I reason as I hear the sound of his fist hitting the hard wood of the huge table in the middle of the room, making me flinch. "I had so many problems and I didn't want her to add up to th—"

He scoffs, the sound coming out like a betrayed release of breath. "She's a problem to you? Is that how little she meant?" he bellows, the sound echoing even inside the hollow spaces of my heart. I feel like a prisoner being sentenced to the death row. "That's it?" his voice is shaking in fury as I realize that I didn't sound reasonable the least bit and I won't sound reasonable even if I try my best. "How could you look at your own son without thinking of her, Sung Kyung?" his voice breaks and the look on his face makes me want to turn back time and fix everything even if it meant having to sacrifice a lot more. "How could you possibly live without thinking about how you killed her?" the tears were free as I look back at him through my blurry vision and I know that he's crying with me because we both suddenly feel the pain of reliving it. It's so hard to accept what he's saying especially since I know th