The door clicks shut.

Kim Jeon-wo lays me on the bed, hands steady, eyes dark. Steam still clings to his skin from the shower. The towel around his waist slips as he moves, revealing the V-line I’ve only imagined in stolen glances. My breath hitches.

I should stop this.

Da-hye’s laugh echoes in my head—bright, carefree, trusting. We shared everything. Homework, secrets, first kisses. Not this. Never this.

But his fingers brush my jaw. Warm. Certain.

“You don’t have to,” he says, voice low. “Say no now, and I walk away.”

I stare up at him. Ten years older. Her father. My tutor. The man who made me feel seen when no one else did. The man I watched through the classroom window during parent-teacher meetings, heart pounding like it was breaking.

My pulse roars.

He leans down. His breath touches my lips.

I turn my face.

“Wait.” My hand presses against his chest. Muscle. Heat. A heartbeat under my palm. “We can’t. Da-hye—”

“She doesn’t need to know.”

“That’s not the point.” I sit up. “This is wrong. You’re her dad. I’m supposed to be her friend.”

He doesn’t move. Just watches.

“I won’t tell you again,” he says. “If you leave now, nothing changes. If you stay…”

His voice drops.

“…there’s no going back.”

I look at the door. Then at him.

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

Da-hye’s name flashes on screen.

Hey, where’d you go? Dad said you left early.

The message burns.

I lock the phone. Place it face down on the nightstand.

Then I reach for his hand.

“I stay.”