“Love is a beautiful mess, where the heart yearns for clarity, but the mind remains tangled in confusion.”
— Anonymous   Arms crossed tightly at her chest, Seo Ara kept her empty gaze on the illuminated cityscape meters below her. It had been almost half an hour since the unexpected call, yet every crevice of her mind was still preoccupied by the confession she had known all along.   Ara wasn’t, and had never been, oblivious of how her best friend felt. Despite Chaeyoung’s displays of annoyance, burning hatred, silent treatments, and pretend unfamiliarity in the presence of Baekhyun—despite the determined attempts to ignore his existence and act like strangers without a past—the woman’s deep-seeded feelings for the man that broke her heart was near impossible to miss.   But the Go Chaeyoung she had known for more than one and a half decade had always been stubborn. She had always been prideful. And above all, she had always been protective of those most important to her—even at her own detriment. In their 15 years of friendship, Chaeyoung had never gone back on her words. They had always been absolute. Unyielding. Set in stone without room for edits nor erasures.   Therefore, Ara wanted to believe her best friend’s insistence of doing better than great and having moved on were true—or at the very least, in the process of becoming true. The Chaeyoung she knew would’ve fought tooth and nail to make all she had professed, the unwavering truth. She would’ve gone to the ends of the world to make all she had claimed, reality.   So then, what exactly happened within the last few hours that made her best friend surrender to the feelings she had been desperately denying all this time?   “What caught your mind in such a daze?” a familiar voice whispered from behind as its owner encased her in a gentle and warm embrace.   Hauled from her thoughts, Ara summoned a light smile before turning around to face her husband. “Nothing really,” she lied with a slight shake of the head. “How was dinner with Prosecutor Kim?” she asked, hoping for a worthwhile distraction.   “It was okay,” Baekhyun replied as he released her from his arms to undo the top buttons of his dress shirt. “But of course, I still would’ve still preferred to spend my time with you,” he added with a playful smirk.   “Hmm, I think your four-hour date says otherwise,” his wife teased after glancing at the time.   Baekhyun released a short chuckle and shook his head. “The hour and a half were more than enough,” he corrected with an audible breath. “The last two were actually spent at the police station,” he added, making the curve on Ara’s lips soften.   “The police station?” she repeated with concern, “Is everything okay?”   “With your mother’s case, yes,” he assured her, slightly hesitant to continue, “It’s just…Minseok and I ran into some trouble just as we were leaving.”   As expected, his wife’s head tilted in question, her curious gaze silently bidding him to explain.   Baekhyun released a quiet sigh. He knew the next set of words that escape his lips would surely cause the woman in front of him to worry. Nevertheless, he continued as calmly as he could, “More specifically, Go Chaeyoung did.”   “Chae?” Ara repeated.   He nodded in response then took another breath before summarizing the events that transpired some hours ago, making sure to downplay the violence and explicit language involved.    “Is she okay?” his anxious wife asked right after.   Once again, Baekhyun nodded. “She seemed fine when I dropped her off…but check in on her just in case,” he suggested casually, before giving her a light kiss on the forehead and excusing himself to get ready for bed.   Ara watched as the oblivious man disappeared into the bathroom, the pieces of the puzzle she’d been trying to put together finally falling into place.   Chaeyoung will never admit it, even to herself, but she had a weakness for protective instincts. She had a weakness for chivalry and gallantry—for valiant knights in shining armor bravely rescuing damsels in distress without reluctance. Baekhyun’s innocent act was the final weight that tipped the scale between her crumbling conscience and the burning desire her heart had been longing for all along.   || Ten Days Later: Café Amitié ||   Standing in front of the golden framed glass door of Café Amitié, Ara tightened her grip on the black leather strap of her purse and inhaled deeply, hoping to untangle the jumbled mess in her head—or at the very least, lessen the uncertainty her best friend’s confession had casted over her.   It had been more than a week since that night, but both women had been uncharacteristically quiet on their respective ends. They weren’t necessarily avoiding one another, yet neither put in the effort to reach out to the other. It was only about an hour ago, right as the clock ended the work day, did Chaeyoung finally broke silence and asked to meet at the coffee shop some blocks away from the Rouge.   Finally releasing the breath she held longer than necessary, Ara pulled on the vertical handle and entered the semi-crowded space, her eyes briefly scanning the floor for her inviter.   It took her less than five seconds to spot that familiar light brown locks and slender figure, but from the way the lone patron sat quietly, timidly, and away from the hustle and bustle of the busy establishment, she was certain their impending conversation was going to be awkward and uncomfortable—an uncharted conversation with an unpredictable beginning, middle, and end.   Ara quietly took the seat across. An iced americano and a mango mousse cake had been pre-ordered, but her best friend neither greeted nor acknowledged her presence.   Instead, Chaeyoung kept her head down, eyes lowered to the fidgeting fingers rested on her lap. “I was out of line, wasn’t I?” she finally began after minutes of silence.   Ara shifted her lenses from the timid woman shrouded in guilt to the falling condensation on her drink. Chaeyoung’s voice was mellow and apologetic, but the fact that she was unable to meet her gaze, meant that whatever she had to say wasn’t going to end with a simple, “I made a mistake, I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry.”   “When you called that night,” Ara began calmly despite her heartbeat quickly increasing in rhythm. “What exactly did you expect me to say?” she asked with a hint of disquiet. It was a question she preferred not to ask—or rather, one she preferred not to know the answer to—but for the sake of their friendship, she needed an honest response.   Almost immediately, Chaeyoung propped up on her seat and finally lifted her head, revealing the redness and dark circles that lined her eyes. “Nothing! Nothing at all,” she replied truthfully, briefly meeting her best friend’s somber gaze before shrinking back into the linen chair. “I know I shouldn’t have said anything. I know I should’ve kept it to myself…but that night, in that moment, it