Sunshine's POV
The door clicked shut behind Hana.
I stood in the kitchen doorway holding a glass of water I hadn't drunk, watching Kael stare at nothing.
The house felt different now. Like someone had rearranged the furniture just slightly — everything in the same place but nothing quite where you remembered it.
I set the glass down.
"You okay?"
Stupid question. Of course he wasn't okay.
He turned around. And the look on his face — God, the look on his face. He wasn't angry. He wasn't composed. He was just... tired. The kind of tired that has nothing to do with sleep.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"For what?"
"For all of that." He gestured vaguely toward the door. "For her showing up here. For not warning you about her. For—"
"Kael."
"I should have told you about Hana. You had every right to know I had an ex that—"
"Kael."
He stopped.
"Breathe," I said.
He exhaled.
I crossed the room and sat on the couch. After a second, he sat beside me. Not close enough to touch. Like he wasn't sure he was allowed.
I shifted closer. Closed the gap.
He let out a breath that sounded like it had been trapped for hours.
"Talk to me," I said.
"I don't know where to start."
"Start anywhere."
He was quiet for a moment.
"Hana and I dated for six months. Before everything got really bad with me. She was there when I first got diagnosed. She tried to stay. But I was..." He paused. "I was a lot. I had an episode that scared her. I said things I didn't mean. And then I blocked her before she could leave first."
"You blocked her so she couldn't leave you."
He looked at me.
"Yeah."
I nodded slowly. That made sense for him. That was very Kael.
"And after you blocked her?"
"She left for Paris." He rubbed the back of his neck. "That was two years ago. I haven't seen her since. Not once. And then tonight she just—" He shook his head. "She just appeared at my door."
Two years.
I let that settle.
"Do you still have feelings for her?"
He didn't flinch from the question. I appreciated that.
"I don't know what I feel right now. I spent most of the last two years convincing myself I didn't care." He rubbed his jaw. "But she came here tonight. She didn't have to do that."
"No," I agreed. "She didn't."
I told myself it didn't matter.
That polished girls in designer coats and quiet confidence belonged to a different world than me.
But standing there in his house, wearing his shirt, hair undone, face bare—
I felt the difference.
And I hated that a small part of me wondered if he did too.
"Does that bother you?" he asked.
I thought about it honestly.
"A little," I admitted. "She's beautiful. She's polished. She clearly still—" I stopped. "She came here for more than just warning you. We both know that."
"I know."
"But that's not your fault."
He turned to look at me fully.
"I don't want her back."
"You don't have to say that."
"I'm saying it because it's true." His voice was quiet but steady. "A lot happened between the last time I saw her and now. A lot of you happened."
I looked down at my hands.
And I said what I always say when I feel things getting too real. When the ground starts feeling unsteady beneath me.
"I'm your assistant, Kael."
He went quiet for a second, like he was choosing his words carefully.
"We went public two weeks ago."
"I know."
"Then why do you keep saying that like it's still true?"
I held his gaze.
"Because the world still sees it that way. And sometimes… if I don't remind myself where I started, I forget how easy it would be to lose all of this."
His expression shifted — softer, but firmer too.
"You're not something I can just lose."
I didn't respond.
He squeezed my hand once, then let go. Leaned back.
"I need to call my father."
My stomach shifted.
"Director Han said—"
"I know what Director Han said. But my father deserves to hear this from me before he hears it from a lawyer at 6 AM." He picked up his phone. "He'll be awake. He doesn't sleep much anymore."
He dialed.
It rang twice.
"Kael." His father's voice was immediately alert. Like he'd been waiting.
"Appa." Kael's voice changed. Something softened in it. "I need to talk to you."
A pause.
"I know about the article," his father said quietly.
Kael closed his eyes. "How long have you known?"
"I got a call an hour ago. Someone from the commission. A friend." A slow exhale. "I've been sitting here since. Waiting for you to call."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. Just tell me — what are you going to do?"
"I'm meeting with Director Han at 6. Attorney Kim will be there. We're going to discuss options."
"Good." A pause. "Is she with you?"
Kael glanced at me.
"Yes."
"Good," his father said again. Simpler this time. Like that one word settled something.
I felt it land.
Is she with you.
Not is your team with you. Not is your manager with you.
She.
Kael watched my face as he listened to his father speak. Something in his expression was careful and warm at the same time.
"Tell her—" his father started.
"Tell her yourself," Kael said, and held the phone out to me.
I stared at him.
He nodded.
I took the phone.
"Hello, Chairman Kim."
"Sunshine." His voice was tired but warm. Genuinely warm, the way someone sounds when they're relieved to hear a specific voice. "I'm glad you're with him tonight."
"I'm not going anywhere," I said. It came out before I could think about it.
A small sound from the other end. Almost like a laugh. Almost like something else.
"He needs someone steady beside him right now. You understand?"
"Yes sir."
"Don't let him do anything reckless. He gets in his head. He spirals. He makes decisions from a bad place and then lives with them."
"I know."
"He trusts you." A pause. "I trust you."
My throat tightened.
"I'll take care of him."
"I know you will."
I handed the phone back to Kael.
They spoke for a few more minutes. Low voices. A father and son who had weathered too much together, who spoke now in shorthand — sentences that only made sense because of everything behind them.
When Kael hung up, he sat with the phone in his hands for a long moment.
"He likes you," he said.
"I like him too."
"He doesn't like most people."
"I'm aware."
A beat of quiet.
Then Kael turned and looked at me with that look — the one he only gets in moments he thinks I'm not paying attention. Like I'm something he can't quite believe is in front of him.
"I'm scared," he said.
Just that. No armor around it.
"I know."
"The Min-ho thing. My father. If this all comes out—" He shook his head. "I've spent so long managing what people see of me. What they know. What they think. And now someone is about to take all of it and burn it in public."
"Maybe that's not the worst thing."
He looked at me.
"Hana thinks confessing is naive."
"Hana thinks everything that isn't strategy is naive."
"You don't know her."
"I know the type." I held his gaze. "I also know you. And I don't think you can live with another cover-up. I don't think your body will let you."
He was quiet for a long moment.
"Sunshine."
"Yeah?"
"Whatever happens at 6 AM—" He stopped. Started again. "Whatever they decide I should do. Whatever the lawyers say. I want to know what you think. Before I walk into that room."
"You already know what I think."
"Say it anyway."
I looked at him.
"Tell the truth. Get ahead of it. Give people the chance to decide how they feel about you — not about some version of you that a journalist constructed to destroy KDX stock prices."
He nodded slowly.
"It might end my career."
"It might save you."
Something shifted in his face.
He reached over and brushed a strand of hair from my face. His hand stilled at my jaw for just a moment.
Then his phone buzzed again.
Director Han. A follow-up message.
Bring whoever knows about this. No exceptions. 6 AM sharp.
He looked up at me.
"You're coming to the meeting."
It wasn't a question.
"I know." I stood, smoothing down the oversized shirt I was wearing — his shirt. I looked down at it and almost laughed. Almost. "I need to go home."
He frowned. "It's 4 AM."
"I know. But I need to shower. Change into something that doesn't look like I borrowed it from your closet." I gave him a look. "I can't walk into a KDX conference room looking like this, Kael."
He opened his mouth.
Then closed it. Because he knew I was right.
I picked up my phone from the coffee table. My bag from the hallway. I moved on autopilot, the way you do when you're running on no sleep and sheer determination.
At the door, I turned back.
He was standing in the middle of the living room watching me leave, hands in his pockets. The lamp behind him cast everything gold. He looked tired and young and a little lost.
"Get some sleep," I said. "Even an hour."
"I won't be able to."
"Try anyway."
He said nothing.
"Kael."
"Yeah?"
"You're going to be okay."
He looked at me for a long moment.
"How do you know?"
I held his gaze.
"Because I'll be in the room."
I turned and opened the door.
Stepped out.
And then—
I hesitated.
Just for a second.
The kind of second that stretches too long when something in you doesn't want to leave.
I almost turned back.
Almost walked to him.
Almost said something I wasn't ready to say out loud.
But I didn't.
I tightened my grip on my bag and stepped fully outside.
Outside, Seoul at 4 AM was quiet and dark and cold. I pulled my jacket tighter and called a cab. While I waited, I stood under the yellow streetlight and stared up at the sky and thought —
Some rooms don't just require armor.
They require you to pretend you don't need it.
Whatever walks through those doors at 6 AM, just don't disappear.
Don't let them make you invisible.
You were there last night. You heard everything.
You matter in that room.
I believed it then.
I had no idea how hard it would be to keep believing it two hours later.
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END OF CHAPTER 19