The ’smile’ felt like a rough scar on my face. It was the smile of someone who had already seen the end of the world and was just waiting for the credits to roll. Literally.

Ki-hoon let out a sound that wasn’t even a cry; it was a high, thin, keen of pure agony. He didn’t look up from his hands. He couldn’t. Those hands had touched me with such reverence just hours ago, and now, he knew they were the same ones that had once tightened around my throat. The disconnect was shattering him.

"I wanted to throw up," Ki-hoon choked out, his voice thick with bile and grief. "I looked at my hands and thought they were good because they held you... But they’re cursed. I’m cursed."

Was that why he finally decided to take off the one glove? Did he finally decide to discard the identity as Castor and his guilt towards his father’s death?

Jin-Yeok, who had been a statue, finally lowered his gaze. His eyes weren’t cold anymore; they were dead. The calm, calculated mafia boss had been replaced by a man who looked like he was standing in the middle of a graveyard.

"The nightmares," Jin-Yeok whispered, his baritone sounding hollowed out. "Every time you flinched when we moved too fast... every time you looked at the cameras with that look of pure dread... it wasn’t just trauma from this life. It was a memory of us... Wasn’t it? That’s why no matter how many times we tried to assure you of our feelings, there was this uncertainty in your eyes before your response... Isn’t it?"

I didn’t respond, and he closed his eyes, his jaw tightening as he tried to swallow the reality of it.

"We weren’t saving you from the world, Jo-Pil. We were the things you needed saving from... Isn’t it?"

It sounded like a question, but he probably already figured out the answer. It was a YES. All this while, the ones who I needed saving from were the memory of the four of them.

Slowly, I nodded my head.

Seo-Jun was still leaning against that stone pillar, but his legs finally gave out. He slid down until he was sitting on the floor, his head resting back against the cold stone. His red eyes were vacant, fixed on the ceiling as if he could see the ghosts of the past life lingering there.

"A breeding machine," Seo-Jun rasped, a bitter, self-loathing laugh bubbling up in his chest. Surely, he and the others knew that in this life, I was bought to serve that specific purpose, but along the way, that purpose was lost, and he changed his mindset about me. But he never imagined... he never thought it had happened at some point in a timeline he could not remember.

"I told you I picked out the silk sheets because I wanted you to be comfortable. I told you I wanted you to have a house so you’d feel free. But in that life... I was the one who bought the chains, wasn’t I?"

He looked at me, his perfect arrogant face crinkled into a mask of absolute ruin. "You should have killed a scumbag like me, Jo-Pil." He said and my breath hitched. "Everything makes perfect sense now, but it still doesn’t make sense. For all we did, you shouldn’t be able to smile at us, to love us." His voice trembled. "You shouldn’t be able to forgive us. You should have let that bastard kill us all. It would have been mercy."

I felt a hand squeezing my heart, but I tried to remain calm.

"No," I said, my voice cutting through his despair. "I’ll be honest. I didn’t know this was my second time living this life. I didn’t know I had been the one to experience all those misfortunes, so I decided to treat it as a bad dream. I decided to smile, to act nice, to be obedient, so I wouldn’t go through the original route, but I hated you. Every single one of you for what you did."

My words cracked their hearts like an earthquake.

"There was no reason not to hate you, but then there was something I didn’t do in my first life. I didn’t defile you and never got to see your understanding sides. I sat with you, listened to you, and got to know you better. My views of you gradually began to change, and by the time I realised this was my reality, I decided to give it my best and change my fate. I decided to trust you." A small warm smile tugged on my lips. "And," I lifted my gaze and looked at them sincerely. "You guys did not disappoint me."

They looked at me, stunned.

"Though I sometimes dread the feeling from the past, and I get the feeling that something will change in you, reverting back to your old selves—"

"Never!" they all chorused forcefully, taking me aback. I blinked, looking at the desperation in their eyes, and nodded.

"Right. I’m not the only one who is scared of that ending now, right? I just wish to be happy, to know that your love for me is not a cage and that nothing will ever change you or your love for me. If I know that, no matter the color of the past, I am willing to let it all go."

"How can you...?" Ki-hoon choked out, his shoulders shaking. "How can you let go just like that?"

I looked at him, the tears glossing his black eyes and the absolute guilt written in them.

"We were monsters to you."

The raw honesty of those words seemed to strip the very oxygen from the room. I watched as Ki-hoon’s hands curled into the rug. He looked like a man who had been offered a pardon while standing on the gallows—terrified, unworthy, and yet desperately clinging to the rope of hope I’d just thrown him.

"It’s because I’m in love," I repeated, the words feeling lighter now that they were out. "And I think I’m willing to let go if it means I will finally get my happily ever after."