Chapter 14 : The Distance Between Us
The air in the mansion had grown colder. Not from the changing season, but from the silence that lingered between them like fog—thick, confusing, and hard to breathe through.
Yeri stood by the window in the guest room, her arms wrapped around her waist. The city lights blinked below like stars that had fallen too far to matter. Somewhere downstairs, she could hear Yunjun's voice—low, tired, arguing with someone over the phone. He hadn't told her what was going on. Not since the hospital. Not since she came back.
She didn't ask. Not because she didn't care, but because part of her still wasn't sure if she was allowed to.
The bruises were fading now. The nightmares weren't.
Some nights she would bolt upright, the echo of Jack's laugh still ringing in her ears, and Yunjun would come rushing in—always in seconds, always without asking questions. He would just hold her until her breathing calmed, until she stopped shaking. Then he'd quietly leave, as if staying longer might hurt her more.
But it wasn't the fear keeping her awake tonight.
It was the space.
The one that had somehow grown between them.
Downstairs, Yunjun slammed the phone onto the table, his hands trembling. He hadn't slept properly in days. Couldn't. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was Yeri's face—bloodied, broken, terrified. And even now, healed and home, she looked at him differently.
Not with anger. Not with blame.
With distance.
And it was killing him.
He wanted to talk to her. God, he did. But what would he even say?
"I let this happen."
"I brought Jack into your life."
"I thought I could protect you, and I failed."
The guilt was a weight he couldn't lift.
He rubbed his forehead and walked toward her room. Just… to check in. Like he always did. He didn't knock anymore—she never locked the door, not after that first week back—but tonight, as he pushed it open, he paused.
She was standing at the window, barefoot, her sweater slipping off one shoulder. Her hair was still damp from the shower. She looked so young, so fragile. So far away.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asked quietly.
She didn't turn around. "No."
He stepped inside but kept a few feet between them. He had learned not to cross invisible lines.
"Bad dreams?"
She shook her head. "Just... thinking."
"About what?"
This time, she turned to face him. Her eyes weren't angry. They were tired. Of pretending. Of being careful.
"About us," she said simply.
Yunjun swallowed. "What about us?"
She walked slowly to the edge of the bed and sat down, hugging her knees. "I don't know where we stand anymore."
He blinked. "Yeri, I—"
"No," she cut in, gently. "Don't say you're sorry again. I've heard it. I believe you. That's not the point."
He sat across from her, arms resting on his knees. "Then what is?"
She looked down. "I feel like I'm drowning in a place I thought I was safe."
His chest tightened. "Here?"
"With you."
Silence stretched. His fingers curled into fists.
"I didn't mean to make you feel that way," he said, voice breaking.
"I know." She looked at him, finally. "But that doesn't change the fact that I do."
For a while, neither of them spoke. The night hummed quietly around them.
Then Yeri broke the silence.
"Do you remember that day… at the party? When you hit Daeho?"
He nodded. "How could I forget?"
"You looked at me like I was something worth defending. Like I mattered."
"You do."
"Then why do you keep acting like I might break if you get too close?"
Yunjun exhaled slowly. "Because I'm scared."
Yeri's eyes softened, but her voice stayed steady. "Of what?"
"That you'll realize you deserve someone who hasn't buried people just to feel safe." His voice was barely a whisper now. "Someone who doesn't have enemies like Jack. Someone who can love you without risking your life."
She stood up, crossing the small space between them. She knelt beside him, placing a hand over his.
"I don't need perfect, Yunjun. I just need honest. I need real. And right now, you're here… but not with me."
He closed his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I thought if I kept my distance, I'd be protecting you. I didn't realize I was hurting you more."
Her fingers tightened around his.
"We don't heal by hiding," she said. "Not you. Not me."
The doorbell rang. A sharp, unwelcome sound that sliced through the quiet.
Yunjun stood quickly, already tense. "Stay here."
"Wait—"
But he was already halfway down the hall, his gun tucked at his back.
He opened the door and was surprised to see Sia.
Her hair was tied up messily, her coat flung over her arm, eyes wide with urgency.
"You need to come with me," she said quickly.
Yunjun frowned. "What's going on?"
Sia glanced behind her. "The guys who used to work for Jack. They're making a move. They think you're weak now. Because of what happened to Yeri."
His jaw clenched. "They want a war?"
"They want chaos. I intercepted a message. You've got hours—maybe less—before they storm the warehouse. And if they find what's hidden there—"
He didn't let her finish. "Get the car ready."
Sia grabbed his arm. "Yunjun—what about Yeri?"
He paused.
Yeri had just opened up to him for the first time in weeks. And now, he had to disappear again. Leave her alone. Afraid.
He turned, heading back upstairs.
Yeri was still standing, confused and slightly alarmed.
"What happened?"
He reached her in three strides, cupping her face with both hands. "There's something I need to take care of. I'll be back."
She shook her head. "No. Don't shut me out again."
"I'm not," he whispered. "But I can't let you be anywhere near what's coming. I need you to trust me."
She searched his face. "Come back."
"I swear."
And for the first time, he kissed her forehead—not out of habit or guilt, but with everything he couldn't yet say.
Then he was gone.
Hours passed. Too many.
Yeri sat by the window again, heart pounding every time a car passed. She hated this part—the waiting, the unknown. But something in her felt different this time.
He chose to tell her.
And for now, that was enough.
Far from the mansion, Yunjun stepped into the dim warehouse with his men flanking him. The ambush was brutal. Fast. But he was faster. For every bullet fired, he pushed harder. For every threat, he retaliated.
He wasn't fighting to win territory.
He was fighting for peace.
For her.
By dawn, it was over.
Bloody, bruised, exhausted—he stood among the wreckage and only one thought ran through his mind:
I need to go home.
Back at the mansion, the sun had just begun to rise when Yeri opened the front door—and saw him standing there.
Blood on his shirt. Scratches on his face.
But alive.
She ran to him, arms wrapping around his waist, holding tight.
And for the first time in a long time—
He hugged her back without fear.
To be continued...
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