Ren's grip tightens on the steering wheel—
and for a brief second, he leans forward, pressing his forehead against it.
A sharp exhale.
"If it's not Erika… then who the hell leaked that clip?"
Frustration flickers through him.
"Damn it…"
He runs a hand through his hair before reaching for his phone.
Dialing.
The call connects.
"Kaito," he says, voice instantly steady again.
"Listen to me carefully."
No hesitation.
No room for argument.
"You're going off the grid."
A pause—
just long enough to make it clear this isn't a suggestion.
"Until this situation is under control, you don't step outside unnecessarily."
His tone hardens.
"And stop showing up at bars like it's nothing."
Another pause.
"Do you understand what I'm saying?"
He doesn't wait for a proper answer.
"I just got a call from the producers."
"Webbed to Be Mine has been delayed."
The words land heavy.
"Everyone's trying to contain this mess."
His grip tightens again, voice dropping lower—
controlled, but edged.
"So don't make it worse."
"Not by being careless."
"Not now."
"Do whatever you want…"
Kaito's voice is low—
drained.
Defeated.
"Just get me out of this."
There's no arrogance left.
No control.
Just desperation.
A pause lingers on the line—
like he wants to say more—
but doesn't.
Because there's nothing left to say.
"This is my last chance," he adds quietly, almost to himself.
"To save what's left."
Silence.
Then—
the call disconnects.
And just like that—
everything rests on Ren now.
Kaito leans back in his chair, the tension finally catching up to him.
A quiet breath escapes—
tired.
Heavy.
"…Huh."
The sound barely means anything.
Just noise filling the silence.
His gaze drifts to the ceiling, unfocused.
And for the first time in a long while—
he starts questioning it all.
Every decision.
Every choice that led him here.
The fame.
The image.
The lies he let become truth.
"…How did it come to this?"
The words stay in his head.
Unspoken.
Because deep down—
he already knows the answer.
The door clicks open.
Kaito barely has time to react—
before Miyo rushes into him.
Her arms wrap around him tightly, almost desperately.
She doesn't say a word.
Just holds on.
Like this is the only place she feels safe.
For a moment, Kaito freezes—
caught off guard by the sudden warmth, the silence, the trust.
Then slowly—
his arms come around her.
Holding her back.
His breath hitches slightly.
"Miyo…?"
His voice is low.
Careful.
"What happened?"
But she doesn't answer.
She just stays there—
quiet.
Composed on the outside—
but holding onto him like she might fall apart if she lets go.
She pulls away from him—
suddenly.
Abrupt.
The warmth between them shatters in an instant.
Before Kaito can react—
she turns and grabs the nearest object, hurling it toward the mirror.
It crashes.
Glass splinters across the floor.
The sharp sound echoes through the room.
Her breathing is uneven now—
her eyes burning with rage… and something deeper.
Disappointment.
Pain.
"Do you love her?"
Her voice breaks through the silence.
Loud.
Raw.
Unforgiving.
Kaito freezes.
"What—?"
"That girl," she cuts in, her gaze locked onto him.
"Do you love her?"
This time, her voice is quieter—
but far more dangerous.
Demanding the truth.
No escape.
No lies.
Just an answer.
"You don't get to ask me that."
Kaito's voice is low—
firm.
Controlled.
"Love?" he lets out a dry breath.
"Does it even matter?"
A pause.
Heavy.
"It's an open marriage."
His gaze hardens slightly.
"We're free, remember?"
"Don't interfere in my life."
The words land—
cold.
Final.
…
"And love?"
For a moment—
he just looks at her.
Straight into her eyes.
No answer.
Not a single word.
But the silence—
is louder than anything he could've said.
It stretches.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
…
Miyo snaps.
She grabs his collar, pulling him closer, her fingers trembling with rage.
"You want the truth?" she spits.
"Fine."
Her eyes glisten—
not weak—
burning.
"I'm the one who leaked it."
The words hit like a blow.
"I did it."
A shaky breath.
"Go ahead."
Her grip tightens.
"Hate me."
Her voice cracks—
just slightly.
"Isn't that what you want anyway?"
She breaks.
Right there—
after holding it in for so long.
"For two years…" her voice trembles,
"I tried to be okay with it."
A shaky breath escapes her.
"I know you've been with other women."
A pause.
"So was I… with other men."
The words feel heavy.
Like something she never really wanted to admit.
"But when I saw that footage…"
Her voice cracks.
"…you kissing her—"
She swallows hard, tears spilling freely now.
"Something just… snapped."
Her hand presses against her chest, as if trying to hold herself together.
"It hurt."
"More than it should have."
Her eyes lift to meet his—
broken, searching.
"I felt like…"
her voice drops to a whisper,
"you had fallen for her, Kaito."
The silence that follows—
is unbearable.
Because this—
this isn't anger anymore.
It's truth.
Kaito doesn't answer.
He just stands there—
staring at Miyo.
But he's not really seeing her.
Not in this moment.
Because his mind drifts—
back to that night.
Their wedding night.
…
She was drunk.
Barely able to stand.
Tears streaming endlessly down her face.
Not for him.
Never for him.
For someone else.
A man she couldn't end up with.
And yet—
it was Kaito who held her.
Kept her from collapsing.
Wrapped her in his arms while she broke apart over another name.
"Why…?" she had whispered, clutching onto him like he was the only thing keeping her together.
"Why didn't I end up with him, Kaito?"
The question had cut deeper than anything else.
And still—
he stayed.
Silent.
Holding her closer.
Because loving her had never been a choice.
It was constant.
Unquestioned.
Painful.
…
Back then—
just like now.
Kaito closes his eyes briefly.
Because nothing has really changed.
He loved her—
in the dark.
In the light.
In every moment she never chose him.
And maybe…
that's why this hurts more than anything else.
Between broken sobs, Miyo finally says the words—
the ones that should have never belonged to that night.
"This marriage… it won't work."
Her voice trembles, barely holding together.
"I can't stay here… not like this."
Kaito doesn't move.
Doesn't speak.
"I don't love you."
The words land—
soft.
But devastating.
"I love someone else…"
Her grip on his shirt tightens as she cries harder, like even she can't bear what she's saying.
A pause.
Then—
"Let's get divorced."
Silence fills the room.
Heavy.
Unforgiving.
Kaito just stands there, still holding her—
even as everything inside him quietly breaks.
Because this—
this was supposed to be the beginning.
And instead—
it felt like the end.
He could have argued.
Could have fought.
Could have asked her to stay.
But he didn't.
Because loving her was never about forcing her to choose him.
So he says nothing.
And that silence—
hurts more than any words ever could.
"But I don't want to let you go…"
Miyo's voice trembles as she clutches onto him.
"You feel like home, Kaito."
Her grip tightens, desperate, confused.
"You've seen me… in everything."
"In the dark… and in the light."
A broken breath escapes her.
"I don't know what to do."
Her eyes search his, filled with guilt.
"I'm selfish… I know I am."
"And terrible."
Her voice cracks completely now.
"But I can't lose you."
…
Kaito doesn't pull away.
He doesn't question it.
Slowly, gently—
he lifts his hand and cups her face.
His touch is warm.
Steady.
"I'm here, Miyo."
His voice is quiet.
Certain.
"Not going anywhere."
No conditions.
No demands.
Just presence.
Because even now—
he chooses her.
She's breaking apart in front of him—
sobs tearing through her, raw and uncontrollable.
Because even on the very first night of their marriage—
she said she didn't love him.
And yet—
she couldn't let him go.
The contradiction rips her from the inside.
"I don't want to lose you…" she cries,
her voice shaking with guilt.
"I don't know what's wrong with me…"
Kaito watches her—
his chest tightening with every word.
Seeing her like this…
hurts more than anything she said.
He takes a slow breath.
Then—
"Listen to me."
His voice is firm.
Steady.
"You don't love me, right?"
A pause.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Miyo doesn't answer.
She doesn't need to.
Kaito looks at her—
and then says quietly,
"Me neither."
A lie.
So absolute—
it doesn't even tremble.
Because if it did—
he wouldn't be able to say it at all.
Another silence.
Then he continues, softer now—
"Then don't force it."
His hand gently brushes her tear-streaked face.
"Live how you want, Miyo."
"Don't hold yourself back."
A faint, almost invisible smile touches his lips.
"Let's keep it open."
The words settle between them—
not as freedom.
But as a compromise.
A quiet sacrifice.
Because this—
this is the only way he knows
how to keep her by his side.
And that's how it began.
Their version of freedom.
Their version of distance.
An open marriage—
born not out of choice,
but compromise.
…
Miyo never questioned him.
Never asked where he had been.
Never cared enough to.
No late-night calls.
No silent accusations.
No jealousy—
at least, not the kind she let him see.
She moved through it all so easily,
so effortlessly—
as if none of it touched her.
As if he didn't matter in that way.
And maybe…
that was the point.
Because in her silence,
in her indifference—
she was saying something far louder.
Something final.
That she could never love him.
Not the way he deserved.
Not the way he quietly hoped she would.
…
And Kaito—
he understood it all.
He just chose
to stay anyway.