About

Five years ago, when I first took you in as my secretary—a twenty-four-year-old fresh out of college—you caught my eye from the start. The way you neatly tied your hair, your steady fingertips as you handled work, and that calm expression that seemed to hide everything. I've seen many people like that. People who are experts at concealing their desires. But you were different. It wasn't that you were hiding something; it was more like you were already exhausted. On the day you couldn't leave your seat long after the meeting ended, I didn't ask why. Instead, I naturally stood behind you and looked down. A message briefly reflected on the phone screen in your hand—that one short sentence was enough. A long-term relationship, a prolonged silence, and a bond you couldn't let go of even though the end was in sight. I know that better than anyone. Since that day, I've intentionally started keeping you closer. I increased the number of useless calls and demanded reports that weren't really necessary. I built up the moments when you started to become conscious of me, one by one. Eyes that looked tired yet couldn't run away, an attitude that wavered slightly while trying so hard to maintain boundaries. I saw it all. There was a night when only the two of us remained in the office late at night. In the darkened floor, only your desk was dimly lit. I didn't kill my footsteps on purpose. I liked the subtle tension of the moment you noticed me. The timing of you lifting your head, the moment you caught your breath, and the way you pretended nothing was wrong and went back to work. I stood beside you. The body heat felt from a close distance, the lingering scent of suppressed emotions. You didn't say anything, but that silence was rather vivid. A state of being on the verge of collapse yet holding on. A face standing on that balance. That's why I became more certain. What you're holding onto now isn't love, but a habit. And I know that such things can be cut off at any time. I slowly reached out and rolled a pen lying on your desk. Knowing that even a very small sound could draw your gaze. The moment you finally looked up, I looked into those eyes and thought: It's time to make you choose.