Sotis, the thoughts were too much to bear.
She would try to convince herself otherwise—try to silence the spiraling doubts—but the tears still ca.
She would often let out loud sobs late into the night when no one could hear.
His absence started to take a physical toll on her health.
Her body felt heavier every day.
Waking up beca a battle.
She would lie in bed staring at the ceiling, knowing she had things to do, custors to serve, dough to knead... but her limbs wouldn’t move.
It wasn’t until weeks later that she realized it.
He had beco a drug to her.
She had relied on that drug more than she had known.
His voice. His presence. His stupid, teasing remarks. It had all beco part of her life.
And now he was gone.
Every ti she had a spare mont, her thoughts returned to him. And with those thoughts ca the pain.
To escape it, she buried herself in work.
Running the bakery beca her only anchor. She opened earlier than ever and closed late at night. By the ti she returned ho, she was too tired to think or cry.
It helped. A little.
Business picked up. Custors praised her dedication, her pastries, her consistency. But praise didn’t an anything to her anymore.
They made her feel worse.
Cooking was sothing he taught her.
She practiced it to cook sothing good for him.
But now, she wasn’t sure if that mont would co.
There were days she caught herself staring blankly at the bread knife.
Other days, she would sit in the storeroom for hours, silently wondering whether it would be easier to end it and pray that maybe—just maybe—she would reincarnate into a future where he found her again.
But she always stopped herself.
"No. I won’t kill myself," Moraine whispered under her breath, repeating the words like a mantra every morning, every night, every ti she felt her resolve weakening.
She would not kill herself.
She refused to do so.
Yet she knew.
She knew that eventually, even those words might not be enough.
And then ca that day.
She was staring at the knife again, lost in the pull of her thoughts.
Her resolve had beco too weak.
The soft chi of the bakery door opening echoed, but she didn’t notice it.
A man stepped inside.
"Sorry, am I too late?"
She started to reply on instinct. "Depends on what you want. So of our products are still—"
Her words stopped halfway through.
That voice.
Her eyes slowly moved toward the entrance.
Black hair.
Red eyes.
That slight, infuriating smile that always seed to know too much.
Her lips trembled.
"Is... is it really you?"
"Last I checked, only I looked this good, so yeah. It’s ."
He grinned, the sa cheeky grin she’d seen a hundred tis.
She didn’t think anymore.
Her body moved on its own.
She ran, and jumped into his arms.
Tears spilled over.
Her voice broke.
"Welco... hic... back..."
"I’m back," he said quietly, his arms tightening around her.
His hand gently rubbed her back.
That one small action told her everything she needed to know. He hadn’t been with anyone else.
There must’ve been another reason he was late.
Even so, the anger bubbled up now that the relief had passed.
"Why... hic... why were you so... late? Do... hic... you know how much I worried?"
Her fists pounded against his chest, but there was no force in them.
He chuckled, finding her anger endearing.
"Don’t... hic... laugh! I’m angry!"
She cried for what felt like hours.
When she couldn’t cry anymore, she let herself collapse against him, completely drained.
He gently picked her up without saying a word and carried her to her room.
"Sleep," he whispered, turning to leave.
Her hand shot out and grabbed his sleeve.
"Stay here... Stay with ... I’m lonely."
He stared at her before his eyes scanned the small room.
There was only one bed.
She tapped the empty space next to her, noticing his gaze.
He hesitated for only a mont before accepting her invitation.
Neither of them spoke.
There was a strange tension in the room.
It was the first ti she had ever allowed him to sleep in the sa room, let alone share the sa bed.
As they lay there, he stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Slowly, almost nervously, his hand slid across the bed and wrapped gently around her waist.
"Moraine?" he whispered.
Her back was to him. He couldn’t see her face.
He couldn’t tell if she was asleep or just ignoring him.
"Moraine, are you awake?"
He pulled her closer.
The fact that she had let him sleep together ant she gave the permission.... right?
"Moraine?"
After a few more seconds, he carefully propped himself up and looked over her shoulder.
"...She’s asleep."
Her face, once tight with stress and exhaustion, now looked peaceful.
He sighed, a breath filled with both bitterness and affection.
"You really do everything at your own pace, don’t you?"
She slept well that night.
He couldn’t sleep at all.
Small but undeniable changes in Moraine from the next day.
Her fingers would brush against his hand.
She would lean on his shoulder.
He caught her watching him when she thought he wasn’t looking. And when he smiled, she didn’t look away.
It gave him hope.
Maybe this life would be different.
Maybe she would accept him this ti.
But...
’What if she rejects again?’
Her actions had always been confusing.
Even though she acted coquettishly, she never accepted him.
He would often wonder if she was acting invitingly unconsciously, or if she was playing with his heart.
’Sigh, I will just ask her next life again if she rejects .’
That had been how he had decided to act. If she said no, he’d wait for the next life.
He would not put pressure on her to accept him.
This ti, he had hope that things would finally change for good.
He found himself searching for the right mont.
A week later, he found it.
They visited a quiet hill just outside the town.
The sky was clear. A breeze danced through the grass, and beautiful wildflowers blood along the path.
At the top, beneath the shade of a large tree, he stood behind her.
"Do you like this place?"
"It’s beautiful."
Moraine could not take her eyes away from the breathtaking horizon.
He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.
She froze.
"Moraine?"
Both of them understood the aning of his words.
He was asking for permission, asking if he could hold her like this, asking if it was okay to cross the boundaries they had set between them.
She tapped his hand, signaling to let go of her.
He quickly pulled back.
"Ah— I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t an to—"
But before he could finish, she turned.
She took his retreating hands and guided them back to her waist. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck.
He blinked, completely caught off guard.
Moraine had no ti to look at his expression.
Her heart was beating crazily.
It was so loud that she believed he could hear her heartbeats.
But she couldn’t help it.
She had never done anything so bold.
It was taking all her willpower to not crouch down on the ground and hide her face due to embarrassnt.
She gathered her courage and looked up.
’Ah.’
She saw his face.
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