NLFSD Chapter 82

Chapter 82

On the bare floor, with nothing else around it, the AI Sookryeo‑Doongyi standing alone looked out of place — ominous even. Just last night, Jiwoon had left it on the bookshelf in his study.

“…Why is this here?”

As Seo Taecheon approached, a thought struck him. This doll had a recording function. Pressing the heart button on its cheek would play back — or record — a voice message.

Could there be… a message left for me inside?

Taecheon’s breath grew shallow as he forced himself closer. His pulse roared, anxiety soaking him like a wet cloth. Dread weighed heavy — but he had to check. After a deep breath, he picked up the doll and pressed the button. The LED panel on its chest glowed, and then Jiwoon’s familiar voice poured from the speaker.

[“Taecheon. Please listen carefully to what I’m about to say.”]

His heart jolted, skipping like it stopped. The doll nearly slipped from his hands. A chill coated his back, jaw quivering. The words that followed were a bombshell.

[“To say it bluntly — I cannot continue this marriage. I thought it over, and I realized I don’t love you. That’s all I can say. If you hate me, curse me, then forget me cleanly. I’ll contact the Reflection Center separately, so you should too, to finish our divorce. It was in process anyway, wasn’t it?”]

Thud. The doll rolled from his hands onto the floor.

[“…I’m sorry.”]

The message ended.

Taecheon stared into nothing, then shook his head, eyes squeezed shut. He raked his hair, collapsing against the wall, sliding to the floor with a thump. His gaze drifted blankly out toward the window.

“Jiwoon… Lee Jiwoon.”

It can’t be. That smile you showed me, the way you clung to me so happy, the voice that said you hoped to always be together. None of that could have been a lie… So why is this happening?

He squeezed his eyes tight. In his mind’s eye, Jiwoon’s face was vividly painted.

It had been three years ago. Jiwoon never knew this truth, but Seo Taecheon had noticed him before he joined the company. To be precise, it was a fleeting encounter — but one that stole Taecheon’s breath.

An Omega sitting quietly on the corner sofa of a hotel lobby, weeping without sound, shoulders shaking as he tried to suppress sobs. Something stirred Taecheon so strongly, he did something he had never done before.

“…Are you alright?”

He offered a handkerchief. Large brown eyes flooded with tears looked up, overflowing. Something unexplainable seized his chest. Another’s tears hurting one’s heart — it was new to him.

“Th-thank you.”

Perhaps so grateful for that small kindness, the young man buried his face into the fabric and sobbed loudly. Taecheon had stayed at his side until the tears finally dried.

“I ruined your handkerchief. I’m so sorry.”

Face flushed red, the man panicked.

“You work here, right? I’ll wash this and return it tomorrow.”

“It’s fine.”

“No — I’ll bring it tomorrow night, right here.”

But fate intervened: something urgent prevented Taecheon from being there. He believed it an eternal goodbye. That a chance‑encounter Omega, carrying a faint trace of citrus scent, would never cross his path again.

Until the day of the junior employee interviews.

“Hello, I’m Lee Jiwoon.”

Walking through the door, Taecheon immediately knew it was him. The same Omega. Even if Jiwoon didn’t recall, Taecheon was certain. He had wondered how to approach — when Jiwoon himself approached first, babbling nonsense about a mistaken marriage filing.

“…You’re saying you and I are registered as married?”

“Yes! Director, please divorce me!”

Entwined. Like tangled spools of thread, their lives knotted together that day. Though ridiculous, Taecheon had secretly felt a glimmer of hope.

Living together, what he discovered was even more adorable than imagined. Jiwoon broke plates frequently, burned food, but bounced back with endearing determination. He chattered all day but slept like a lamb. Something irresistible grew inside Taecheon.

I don’t want to let go. I want to live together like this forever.

And so love followed naturally. That bright, sunny face, that bold tongue daring to tease the feared Seo Taecheon without flinching, that honesty — it was all maddeningly lovable.

Even conspiring with the officials to extend the divorce reflection period was his scheme — to buy enough time for Jiwoon to love him back. A slow drizzle soaking clothes unnoticed, until the moment came, and he confessed. Finally, their love seemed fulfilled.

But now Jiwoon had vanished. With only the wedding ceremony left.

“….”

Taecheon refused to accept that the message was true. Playing it again, he noted uneven breaths, sobs suppressed between words.

Clenching his fist until veins bulged, he slammed his hand into the wall. Skin split, blood welled — but it steadied him.

I will find you. I will bring you back.

That was the only thought in his mind.

Meanwhile, Jiwoon wandered the streets after leaving the restaurant. No destination, no direction.

Passing by, a cinema appeared. To kill time, he bought a ticket on impulse. Empty on a weekday morning, the theater was nearly his alone.

Ironically, the film was about a terminal romance. His spirits sank, but he didn’t leave. The dark cocoon of the theater, where he could sit and zone out, felt like rest.

By the time it ended, the sun was high. His watch read two o’clock. He drifted into a back alley of the theater, glancing at shops. The lunch rush had ebbed; restaurants were empty, cafés crowded.

He had already had coffee in the morning. The bustle repelled him. Walking past, he found an open pub.

“You’re open already?”

“Yes, we specialize in day drinks.”

Perfect. I’ll drink alone then.

He entered, seated by the window. Through the tall pane, the city bustled with Christmas cheer — wreaths, golden bells, carols filling the air.

It pained him. He had thought this year’s Christmas would be different, warm — decorating a tree with Taecheon, sipping wine, ending the night romantically.

Instead, here he was — roaming the streets, nose red from crying, seeking alcohol at midday.

“Sorry, sir, the tap machine is broken today. Draft beer’s unavailable. A bottled beer instead?”

Of course, fate barred him even from beer. He disliked bottled. He shook his head.

“No, could you recommend something else?”

“It’s cold — how about vin chaud, mulled wine? Boil red wine with orange peels and apples. Good for colds, very tasty.”

“Vin chaud?”

“Yes. Don’t worry, most alcohol burns off while boiling. The flavor’s like red wine, with the fragrance of spices.”

“…Alright then, I’ll have that.”

“Yes, sir.”

A steaming cup soon arrived. Sweet with the faint bitterness of red wine, flavored with cinnamon and orange zest, soothing his queasy stomach.

This is nice. Warm, comforting, not intoxicating.

Drinking alone intensified his loneliness, yet Jiwoon still loved good flavors.

Since death is destined… might as well eat well, drink well, sleep when I please. That sounds better than wasting away.