Chapter 14 : The Distance Between Us
The air in the mansion felt colder, not because of the season, but due to the silence that hung between them like thick fog, 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. She could hear Yunjun's voice somewhere downstairs, low and tired, arguing with someone on the phone. He hadn't told her what was happening since the hospital—not since she came back.
She didn't ask. It wasn't that she didn't care; part of her still wasn't sure if she had the right to.
The bruises were fading now, but the nightmares weren't.
Some nights, she would bolt upright, Jack's laugh echoing in her ears, and Yunjun would rush in—always in seconds, always without asking questions. He would hold her until her breathing calmed and she stopped shaking. Then he would quietly leave, as if staying longer might hurt her more.
But it wasn't fear that kept her awake tonight.
It was the space between them.
Downstairs, Yunjun slammed the phone onto the table, his hands trembling. He hadn't slept properly in days. He couldn't. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Yeri's face—bloodied, broken, terrified. And now, even healed and back 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, but what would he even say?
"I let this happen."
"I brought Jack into your life."
"I thought I could protect you, but I failed."
The guilt weighed heavily on him.
He rubbed his forehead and walked toward her room, just to check on her as he always did. He didn't knock anymore; she never locked the door after that first week back. But tonight, as he pushed it open, he paused.
She stood 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.
"Can'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. Tired of pretending. Tired of being careful.
"About us," she said simply.
Yunjun swallowed hard. "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 was safe."
His chest tightened. "Here?"
"With you."
Silence stretched between them. His fingers curled into fists.
"I didn't mean to make you feel that way," he said, his voice breaking.
"I know." She finally looked at him. "But that doesn't change how I feel."
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 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 remained 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 and crossed the small space between them. She knelt beside him, placing a hand over his.
"I don't need perfect, Yunjun. I just need honesty. I need something real. And right now, you're here, but not with me."
He closed his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I thought keeping my distance would protect 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 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, surprised to see Sia.
Her hair was tied up messily, her coat draped 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 are 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. 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 and headed back upstairs.
Yeri looked 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 and fast, but he was faster. For every bullet fired, he pushed harder, and for every threat, he retaliated.
He wasn't fighting for territory.
He was fighting for peace.
For her.
By dawn, it was over.
Bloody, bruised, and 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, wrapping her arms 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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