After the short outburst, he read her texts again. He read them over and over again. But she never told him where she was, when she would return, or why she was doing this to him.
And then he received another text from her. âI was mentally craving for people, warmth, and their chatter. I was able to satisfy it all through you. What are the needs in your life?â
Muyeol automatically frowned. He immediately called her, but she didnât pick up. Yiyoung had planned this; she didnât pick up the phone no matter how many times he called.
Muyeolâs hands trembled as he texted her, âWhere are you? Come home immediately!â
Yiyoung didnât reply. He texted and called her several times, but she gave no response.
Muyeol slammed the table with his fist, biting his lip so hard that it started to bleed. Never having felt such uncontrollable emotions, he was hit with dizziness, but he put his staggering self down on the seat.
It was like a nightmare. Heâd never had a nightmare so immensely terrible before.
Out of anger, Muyeol grabbed his phone and texted, âDo whatever you want. Whether you come back or not, itâs up to you.â
âDonât hide. Donât doubt. Everything is as you think. I trust you,â Yiyoung finally replied.
But his phone fell completely silent after that.
* * *
A few days later, Muyeol returned to his house at midnight and closed the door after him, the sound of door slamming shut echoed louder than usual. Muyeol stumbled and leaned against the door, exhausted and on the verge of passing out.
He had a high fever along with a headache which was only getting worse, and there was only a day left until the stockholdersâs meeting. Heâd endured it with the help of an ice bag, but knew that nothing would cure his fever.
Because the cause of his fever was not by his side.
Nonetheless, his face remained stoic. Heâd thought that he wouldnât ever be normal again without her, but heâd been doing okay so far. Perhaps he would be fine like this from now on; he would continue to live just as heâd done before she entered his life again. Muyeol thought he was more trained than he had assumed, considering how he was still alive without Yiyoung next to him.
Heâd been alone anyway. His inner peace was shattered now, but Muyeol reassured himself by telling himself that it would become alright eventually. He would go back to being normal, and he would live well, like nothing ever happened to him.
âEverything will be alright as time passes by,â he thought.
Muyeol had told Yiyoung to just⦠stay with him until she needed to leave, perhaps knowing ahead of time that a day like this would come.
âDarn it,â he cursed, âWhatâs the point of seeing the future?â
Muyeol was sick and tired. Every time he opened his eyes in the morning, it was like waking up to a living hell.
He drew himself up and walked inside. The moment he entered the living room, he undid his necktie, and just stood⦠The room was empty. He threw the necktie on the floor and headed toward the bedroom on the east side, the room which used to belong to Yiyoung.
He flicked on the light and looked inside. It was too quiet, to the point that it seemed almost eerie. As if shedding his skin, Muyeol took off his suit jacket and threw it on the floor as he made his way to the bathroom. He recalled how sheâd fallen asleep in the bathtub once. He looked inside. Just in case. But she wasnât there.
His steps became wider as he went to the second floor, and again, only silence greeted him.
He headed downstairs once again, moving to the bedroom on the west side while unbuttoning his shirt. But he stepped, his pace slowed down. As he opened the door, he hoped she would be in there. He turned on the light and quickly looked around, but she wasnât there. Yiyoung never came back. She wasnât here with him. Yiyoung was somewhere else, not with him.