New Normal - Chapter 82

“Did he dump you?”

At her friend’s blunt question, Shin Jisoo gave a dry laugh. She forced the corners of her lips upward, but her expression quickly hardened.

“Does it even matter who said it first? And why are you so sure I was the one who got dumped?”

She tried to brush it off lightly, but the heaviness lingered at the edge of her voice. Haeyoon’s sharp eyes scanned her face. The silence stretched. Feeling awkward, Jisoo picked up her cup and stared at the surface of her coffee. After a long moment of watching her, Haeyoon finally stood up with a heavy sigh.

“So what is it then?”

“I said it first. I was the one who ended it.”

Haeyoon froze in mid-motion. The room fell quiet, as if the soft bass of the deep house music playing in the studio had been muted. Eventually, Haeyoon picked up a small wooden carving from the table, rubbing the surface as though to test its texture.

“Why?”

The silence pressed down again. Jisoo kept tracing the rim of her cup, her gaze lowered.

“It was about trust.”

“So what, was he a con artist or something?”

“Not exactly a con artist… but there were just too many things he kept from me.”

“What was he hiding? He had a secret kid? Huge debts?”

The ridiculous questions made Jisoo let out a hollow laugh, but the bitterness lingering at the edge of her smile betrayed her.

“Of course not. Nothing like that.”

“Then what?”

After a pause, Jisoo finally spoke, still staring at the floor.

“He told me he first approached me because of a bet. And besides that… he had plans to move overseas next year without ever mentioning it. He did eventually say he wouldn’t go, that he’d stay by my side, but still—”

She tried to sound indifferent, but the hurt bled through her voice. Haeyoon muttered under her breath.

“What a bastard.”

Jisoo only shrugged, offering no reply. Haeyoon set the wooden piece down with a sharp thud, then came over to sit beside her on the sofa. The warmth of a friendly presence pressed against her shoulder, but Jisoo just stared blankly ahead. Haeyoon leaned closer and wrapped an arm around her.

“You must’ve gone through hell.”

Jisoo accepted the comfort in silence, then let out a long sigh. It felt like all the emotions she had been holding back were rushing in at once.

“I feel like such an idiot for falling for all that talk about fate and destiny from the beginning. And when I heard he was planning to leave the country without telling me, that should’ve been my wake-up call. I should’ve ended it then. Thinking he’d be different from Song Woohyun—that was stupid of me too. Why did I ever believe he would be different? Maybe… maybe I was never meant to be with him at all. I just don’t know anymore.”

Her rambling confession spilled out. Haeyoon quietly patted her back. The warmth in that touch made Jisoo close her eyes for a moment.

“Hey. Just because one relationship didn’t work out doesn’t mean your choice was wrong from the start. The heart doesn’t always move the way your head expects it to. Sometimes it’s messy, complicated, unpredictable. Especially when it comes to men.”

Jisoo lowered her head, biting her lip. She tightened her grip on her coffee cup to hold herself together, but her trembling voice betrayed her.

“I’m just… tired. No, it’s more than tired. I don’t even know what I want anymore. I’m so confused I just wanted to walk away from it all.”

“Then you had every right to. Not everything gets fixed just by holding on.”

Jisoo bit her lip hard to hold back tears, but she couldn’t suppress them. Her blurred vision made Haeyoon’s face waver.

“I tried to be as honest as I could. I really gave it my all. But it feels like all I ever get is disappointment. And I keep thinking, what if something else happens, what if he lets me down again? That fear just grew too heavy.”

As her voice cracked, Haeyoon dropped her usual playfulness and pulled her into a firm embrace.

“I get it. I don’t know every detail, but from where you stand, he lied. He wasn’t the man you believed him to be. Of course that shatters your trust, of course that hurts.”

Jisoo’s expression wavered at the sincerity in her friend’s words. Haeyoon’s tone softened further.

“But Jisoo, you know this.”

“…Know what?”

Haeyoon pulled back just enough to hold Jisoo’s face and meet her eyes.

“I know you better than anyone.”

Her eyes trembled at Haeyoon’s certainty. The coffee in her cup rippled faintly. Seeing her hesitation, Haeyoon continued calmly.

“When something isn’t right for you, you don’t go for it. If he were truly wrong for you, you wouldn’t have let it start in the first place. This has nothing to do with experience. You don’t keep people like that close. And if you had, you wouldn’t be shaken like this, or hurting this much. Jisoo, you’re stronger and wiser than you give yourself credit for.”

“Haeyoon…”

Her shoulders trembled. Haeyoon gently took her hand.

“Yes, he made mistakes. He was wrong, no question. But people aren’t perfect. The ones we love sometimes let us down. Sometimes they make stupid mistakes. What matters is how deeply he regrets it now, how sincere he is in wanting to make things right with you.”

Haeyoon squeezed her hand lightly.

“Maybe what’s really tormenting you isn’t just that he disappointed you, but that you can’t accept the fact that you still love someone who let you down.”

Jisoo froze, staring at Haeyoon in silence. His touch, his words—both were unbearably warm, making her heart feel even heavier.

“And you’re making it harder by trying to cut him off completely on your own. Your heart hasn’t moved on yet, but you keep telling yourself it’s over. That’s why it hurts so much.”

Jisoo dropped her gaze, mumbling weakly.

“Still… I already told him it’s over. And I don’t know if I can ever trust him again.”

Haeyoon gave a faint smile and patted her shoulder.

“Trust isn’t about never breaking. It’s about holding on again after it’s been shaken. If he’s still precious to you, then maybe finding the courage to trust him one more time is worth it—for your own sake. If you’re not ready to let him go yet, don’t torture yourself. Face him again. Be honest with yourself.”

Her shoulders slowly sagged, the tension finally softening. Tears welled up at the corners of her eyes. Haeyoon rubbed her back gently, his voice low and warm.

“If it scares you to start over, then don’t. You don’t have to restart anything right away. Just listen to him. Find out what your heart is really saying. You can decide after that.”

At last, the tears she had held back spilled down her cheeks. Haeyoon stroked her back softly, whispering.

“Whatever you choose will be okay. What matters most is being honest with yourself.”

***

Chae Juwon lay staring blankly at the ceiling.

They say no relationship ends because of just one person’s fault. But he wasn’t so sure anymore.

After dragging himself home from work, he hadn’t even thought to shower. He just collapsed into the dark room. Days of sleepless nights had carved deep shadows beneath his eyes. Endless work during the day and strong liquor every night had already driven his body past its limits. His phone buzzed occasionally at the bedside, but he didn’t even have the strength to check it.

How had it come to this?

Forcing his heavy eyelids open, he stared vacantly at the ceiling. Moonlight seeped in through the blinds, painting the room in pale blue. Sweat trickled down his damp forehead, his body feverish. Instinctively, he reached into the empty air—but of course, there was nothing there to hold.

“Let’s end this. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. And I don’t want to be hurt, either. This is as far as we go.”

It had been a month since that day. And in that month, he had been able to do absolutely nothing. She avoided him so openly, so deliberately, that any attempt at contact was pointless.

Juwon hadn’t realized he could fall apart like this. He had thrown himself into work like a man possessed, as if trying to torture himself. Every morning he was the first at the office, every night the last to leave. Meals became an afterthought, most days, just instant noodles. He worked overtime like it was routine, and when he finally came home to the dark, empty apartment, sleep rarely came.

In the early days, he had waited for her to call. When she didn’t, anxiety turned to anger. Anger curdled into regret. Regret collapsed into self-loathing. He couldn’t stand his own emotions anymore, so he drowned them in alcohol each night. More than once, drunk, he had been tempted to call her. But he never did. He was terrified he’d only wound her further.

Then, during a business trip, the inevitable happened. He slipped on an unstable roof during a site inspection and hurt his wrist. It wasn’t serious, but the incident alarmed his colleagues. They urged him to slow down, to take better care of himself. He ignored them, burying himself back in work. It was the only way he knew to fight the crushing emptiness, the endless regret.

But no matter how much he worked, the truth gnawed at him. The reality he dreaded most stared him in the face.

Pathetic bastard.

Breathing raggedly, Juwon turned onto his side. In the haze of exhaustion, her face appeared before him.