"There are only four words that mean so much more than 'I love you', and those words are 'I'm here for you'."
— Anonymous

"Oh, and this," Byun Baekhyun continued, waving the illicit picture pinched between his fingers before tossing it back to the pile, "I'll pretend I didn't see anything, but unless you want BYN Group and its entire legal representatives breathing down your neck, I'd make sure to get rid of all evidence it even existed."

"General Manager Byun, please!" Da Ye begged, the fear of repercussion visible in her trembling lenses, "Please, wai—"

Ignoring his mother-in-law's meaningless excuses, Baekhyun led Ara out of the parvenu's office, and let the heavy door silence her scream.

With the witch's plea cut short by the wooden panel latching onto its frame, Ara finally snapped out of her daze.

"Baekhyun…" she whispered, setting her tired eyes on the figure walking ahead of her. The shock of her mother's hand against her face had paralyzed her mentally. It caged her in a soundproof box, preventing her from intervening when the less-than civil verbal exchange ensued between the despicable creature and her surprisingly protective husband, but now that she had regained her voice, she never expected his name to be the first sound that escapes her lips.

Summoning the scraps of energy residing within her shell, Ara pulled away from Baekhyun's gentle grasp and rooted her black pumps to the floor. She was thankful for his unexpected words and interference, but there were already far too many bodies tangled in her mother's lunacy—she didn’t want him to get involved as well.  

But feeling the warmth of her hand leave his, Baekhyun glanced back and sighed heavily. He had the urge to scold her about yesterday's secret, to lecture her about her pride, and to apologize for his ignorance, but he knew Ara was beyond exhausted to listen, argue, or even process whatever he needed to tell her.

And so, he simply reached for her hand and resumed his pace.

|| …………… ||

The elevator dinged as it reached the 20th floor, and like Moses parting the sea, the doors sprawled open, revealing a brightly lit, empty hallway that led to The Office of the General Manager.

Baekhyun exited first and instructed Ara to follow. Though he wanted to keep her close, fearful that her tired body would give up at any moment, he knew she preferred the distance. His wife wouldn’t dare risk being caught together hand in hand, even if it meant exhausting whatever bit of strength she had left in her.

"Inform Lead Director Im that Director Seo is with me. Also, reschedule my afternoon appointments and call Sehun over," Baekhyun instructed as he passed by the reception desk, ignoring his two assistants' curious and questioning lenses. 

Ara kept her eyes to the ground as she quietly followed her husband to the privacy of his office. And with every step she took towards the secluded room, she felt the armor she had worn for 27 years begin to break. The cracks it had sustained over time finally connected, its arms of destruction slithering in all directions. Realizing the utter hatred she had for her mother was the final blow that shattered the only thing that had kept her cauldron of emotions from boiling over.

One by one, pieces of her seasoned gear fell to her feet, allowing the culmination of pain, frustration, and animosity to surface. Without restraint, the ashes of her shield kept falling—until she found herself in Baekhyun's office, and vulnerable. Her difficulties laid bare. Her raw emotions consuming every part of her. She felt her tear ducts fill, her legs weaken, and her mind crumble.

To keep her sanity, Ara needed something, anything—anyone to hold onto.

"About last night—" Baekhyun began, but his words were cut short by the feeling of something warm and sobbing pressed against his upper body. Ara had clung onto to him the moment he turned around and buried her face in his chest, her fingers gripping his suit jacket with tightly fisted hands. Each rise and fall of her breath released an unimaginable pain even he could feel—the throbbing kind that was impossible to ignore.

Baekhyun was not one for tears. He hated the drama, the backstory, and all the unnecessary emotions associated with it. Whenever he saw a sobbing woman, he always stepped back and walked the other way—but this time, with Ara, he wanted to take a step forward. He wanted to bring her into his arms and tell her it was okay. That everything was going to be okay.

And so he did.

Ever so gently, Baekhyun brought her closer. He tightened his embrace and her head lightly, letting her feel his presence—letting her know she wasn't alone, and that she never had to be again.

|| …………… ||

After liberating herself from the 27 years' worth of tears and pain that had accumulated inside her, Ara's worn-out self fell into a deep slumber. She had cried her eyes out for almost an hour and had now been resting in the land of dreams for a little over four.

Baekhyun laid her down on the couch and tucked her in after she fell asleep in his arms. He had been cooped up in his office since then, preventing anyone else from entering and disturbing her peace.

Just as he moved on to the next file on his desk, he heard Ara's soft groan and quiet rustling, signs that she had woken up from her much needed nap. Without a sound, he watched as his wife gently threw the blanket off her, sat up on the soft cushion, and rose to her feet slowly.

Remembering the events of earlier, Ara felt a dense fog of embarrassment and guilt engulf her consciousness. She had failed to contain her own storm of emotions. She had surrendered to exhaustion. Worst of all, she had shamelessly unloaded her onto her husband, and got him involved in her mess.

Though it was difficult to look at him at the moment, she had enough in her to meet his eyes and express her gratitude. "Thank you for letting me stay," she began, her voice trying to find stability, "and I'm sorry for wasting your time and the company's. I'll make sure to—"

"Notify the Catering Department Director Seo will be taking the rest of the day off," Baekhyun interjected, submitting his order through the intercom without ever brea