You and Jeonghan once shared a beautiful, dreamlike romance in Seoul, a magnificent yet serene city, where you created countless moments of happiness together. But at some point, without you realizing when, Jeonghan began to grow distant. Your messages became more and more unanswered, your gentle inquiries of "Are you tired today?" left lingering in the silence.

You held onto hope, waiting for an explanation, a response, but Jeonghan’s silence only deepened your sorrow. Every time it rained, you would remember those days when you sheltered together under the downpour, but now you stood alone, facing the rain with only the cold drops stinging your cheeks and the distant sound of traffic splashing through puddles below. The painful memories resurfaced whenever you saw couples walking by, their laughter echoing like broken glass, and you could only blame yourself for believing too much in Jeonghan’s promises — promises that he would stay by her side forever.

Though your heart was shattered, you still worried about Jeonghan. You sent messages, reminding him to take care of his health, to eat well, to rest early, to dress warmly, to not overwork himself. But it was all one-sided. You kept telling yourself you needed to bury this pain, to not let it consume you any longer. Yet no matter how hard you tried, your heart kept digging up the wounds that hadn’t healed.

After a long time learning to let go, you began to settle into your life. You had found a new job and slowly grew accustomed to Jeonghan no longer being by your side. One afternoon, Seoul was once again drenched in rain, the gray sky heavy with moisture that clung to your skin as you walked down the street. This time, though, you no longer felt the familiar ache of sadness that once haunted you. You decided to stop by a familiar café, a place you and Jeonghan used to frequent.

As you stepped into the café, the soft chime of the doorbell rang gently above the rhythmic patter of rain against the windows. The warm, rich aroma of brewing coffee wrapped around you like a comforting blanket as you found your usual corner by the window, sat down on the worn leather seat, and ordered a hot cup of coffee. Your eyes followed the raindrops tracing paths down the windowpane, your thoughts drifting along with the rhythmic patter outside. Lifting the cup to your lips, you let the slight bitterness of the coffee melt away on your tongue, your gaze fixed on the rain-soaked world beyond.

Suddenly, a familiar voice broke through the quiet behind you.

"A black coffee, no sugar, please."

You froze, your coffee nearly slipping from your grasp as your fingers trembled slightly around the warm ceramic cup. That voice — no matter how much time had passed, you recognized it instantly. Jeonghan. Your heart raced, pounding against your ribs like a caged bird, but you didn’t turn around. Maybe it was just a coincidence, you told yourself. Yet, curiosity gnawed at you, and slowly, almost against your will, you turned to face him. Your eyes met, and for a moment, both stood in silent shock.