“I was such a fool.”
“What are you…?”
“It was all a lie.”
Da Haram answered in a daze, staring blankly into space, before bursting into tears again. It was the kind of heart-wrenching sobbing that made anyone watching tear up as well.
Judging by the context, it seemed to be about that man. From the mention of lies, it sounded like Haram had discovered Kang Tae-yi was an Alpha. But it was only speculation. Watching quietly, Da In-ho cautiously opened his mouth.
“I’ll help however I can.”
The offer came from guilt. He, too, had withheld the fact that Kang Tae-yi was an Alpha.
“…I want to go home. Hrrng, I’m going home.”
He desperately wanted to return to the countryside. Ever since learning the truth about Tae-yi, his thoughts had been in chaos. His entire body seethed with betrayal, and he couldn’t hold onto his reason.
It had all been a lie. Kang Tae-yi’s very existence had been a fabrication.
Looking back now, there were countless things that didn’t make sense. But back then, he’d ignored them because he was just happy to have a friend his age in his otherwise lonely life. Every moment he’d spent with him in the countryside had been enjoyable.
When he’d followed him to Seoul, every new experience had seemed like pure happiness. And even when the doubts kept growing, he’d planned to wait until Tae-yi was ready to explain. He’d been pathetically stupid.
The memory of Tae-yi’s voice echoing in his head, asking him to sell the peanut field the day the man with glasses and the debt collector from the construction company came—he couldn’t forget it. In the end, Kang Tae-yi had been part of that very construction company that had tormented him for so long. All that kindness had just been a ploy to use him.
The more he thought about how thoroughly he’d been deceived, the more his emotions flared in every direction. He was angry and hurt. And yet, a part of him still wanted to believe that what the man in glasses had said about Tae-yi wasn’t true. He wanted to believe in Tae-yi.
Taking a deep breath, Haram clenched back his sobs and said quietly:
“…Could I borrow some money? I’ll transfer it right away once I get home…”
“Of course. It’s no trouble at all.”
Without hesitation, Da In-ho pulled a 50,000-won bill from his wallet and handed it to Haram, careful not to embarrass him. As he glanced at Haram, whose eyes were red with tears, In-ho let out a soft sigh. Da Haram didn’t look even remotely okay, but he didn’t dare ask if he was.
“Are you really going back to the countryside? I don’t know what’s going on, but maybe you should talk to him first…”
Haram shook his head as he tightly clutched the bill. Just a little while ago, he had wanted to see that man so badly. Now, he couldn’t even stand the thought of it. He didn’t even want to think about him. All he wanted was to crawl into the warm blankets of his countryside home and disappear.
Seeing the exhaustion on Haram’s face, Da In-ho sighed and said:
“I’ll drive you to the terminal.”
“No, it’s okay. You’re busy—you really don’t have to.”
Haram waved his hands, trying to refuse, but In-ho quickly told him to wait a moment and ran off, saying he’d get the car keys. Left alone on the empty emergency stairwell, Haram bit down hard on his lower lip to hold back the tears, but they welled up anyway, as if his pride had long since given up.
He rubbed his eyes roughly to wipe the tears and took a deep breath to calm down. Tae-yi was supposed to pick him up from the hospital soon. If he talked to that man—whose every word was a lie—he was sure he’d unconsciously end up following him back to his house.
Haram just wanted to escape to the countryside without Tae-yi finding him. He didn’t want to think about anything else. All that mattered was getting back safely.
***
“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.”
Chief Yoon muttered as he stared absentmindedly at Da Haram’s peanut field.
“Keep an eye on that bastard and finish everything before the day’s over.”
Watching the mess of a field being put back in order, Tae-yi pointed at the debt collector yanking out weeds in the distance.
“We’re probably the only idiots in the world replanting fully-grown peanuts ready for harvest.”
Yoon Min-ho grumbled as he glared at the blue pickup truck stuffed with peanut seedlings. Who in their right mind would dig up ripe peanuts and replant them in straight rows?
“You want to get in there and help?”
Tae-yi shot him a sharp look and nodded toward the field.
Finally catching sight of the debt collector sweating alone under the blazing sun, Yoon Min-ho changed the subject.
“…Da Haram isn’t going to fall for this.”
“At the very least, he’ll see that I tried.”
Tae-yi didn’t expect Haram to be fooled by a neatly restored field. He just thought it would be slightly better than leaving it in ruins. All he wanted was for Haram to hurt a little less.
“When you go up to Seoul, are you going to tell him everything? That you’re that Director, that Changi Construction is that company, and that you’re not a Beta but an Alpha…”
Even as he spoke, Yoon Min-ho winced. It was a lie that should never have been told if Tae-yi hadn’t planned to hide it forever. But he couldn’t entirely blame him. Back when he lied, Tae-yi probably had no intention of staying with Da Haram for good.
But now… Tae-yi had already lost so much. He’d at least earned the right to ask for forgiveness.
“What about Da Haram?”
Still staring silently at the field, Tae-yi glanced at his watch and asked. Yoon Min-ho immediately pulled out his phone.
“Uh…”
As he stared at the screen, Min-ho suddenly let out a baffled sound. Tae-yi frowned at him. Caught in his irritated gaze, Min-ho quickly made a call.
In the span of that short call, Min-ho’s expression shifted through a dozen emotions before going pale as he lowered the phone.
“Da Haram… never showed up for the session. My father’s been waiting in the counseling office, but he still hasn’t arrived.”
“But he said he got to the hospital this morning.”
“I’ll check.”
Tae-yi sighed as he watched Min-ho make a hurried call, then reached up and yanked at his tie in frustration. A bad feeling gripped his chest, anxiety swelling like a tidal wave.
He pulled out his phone. There were no missed calls or messages from Da Haram. He immediately tried calling him. The ringtone droned on and on, oblivious to Tae-yi’s rising panic.
“Director… I think you need to go up there yourself.”
Min-ho had already finished his call and approached with a troubled expression.
***
“No luggage?”
In the hospital parking lot, Da In-ho glanced at Haram, who was staring blankly out the window, and asked. There was no answer. He looked like he was in a daze.
“Sorry, but… could you drive me to Tae-yi’s house first? I’ll find my own way to the terminal from there.”
“Send me the address.”
In-ho didn’t know what Haram was trying to confirm, but he could only hope it ended well. He silently drove toward the address Haram sent him.
Fortunately, there was no one standing guard in front of the mansion. Once inside, Haram changed into the clothes he’d worn when he first came to Seoul. He didn’t want to take anything more from Tae-yi. Even if he ended up struggling financially back in the countryside, he was determined to repay everything Tae-yi had ever given him—down to the last won. Food, the Designation Test, medical expenses, transportation—everything.
He had no plans to see him in person. He’d pay it all back via bank transfer. He didn’t even want to look at him.
Dressed and ready, Haram made his way to Tae-yi’s study. He hadn’t intended to touch anything, but his eyes lingered on the now-familiar bookshelves. Eventually, he powered on the computer.
One last time, with a sliver of hope still clinging to his heart, he typed in Tae-yi’s name. In the Changi Construction org chart, his name appeared among others he didn’t recognize. But it wasn’t just that. The flood of news articles that filled the monitor brought tears to Haram’s eyes.
“…Liar.”
Tears of betrayal dripped onto the keyboard. He bit down hard on his lip, wanting to scream his sorrow into the void.
Just as he turned to leave the study, his phone vibrated on the table.
It was a call from Tae-yi. The heart he’d once placed next to the name now felt like a cruel joke. The tears he’d fought so hard to hold back began to fall again as he set the phone down with a sigh.
The call ended, but a flurry of messages came in. Haram stood frozen, unable to walk away. In the end, he picked up the phone and checked.
—Where are you? Pick up the phone.
Tae-yi must’ve realized Haram wasn’t at the hospital. He was faster than expected. Panic rising, Haram paced nervously. If he wanted to make it to the countryside safely, he needed to stall for time.
After hesitating for a long moment, he typed a reply with trembling hands:
—I was tired, so I came home. I’ll rest and wait for you.
Of course, the part about waiting was a lie. But lying to a liar didn’t bother him in the slightest. In fact, it felt almost satisfying.
Hoping Tae-yi would fall for it, Haram turned off his phone. Then he turned his gaze to the window. Towering pine trees lined the high walls outside.
