บท 117: Chapter 117 CHAPTER

YOO-MI’s POV

The side of his face, his back to me as he stepped off the curb and onto the street. His hands were stuffed into the pocket of his jeans.

I jumped as fast as I could, spilling the wine all over the table. My hands fumbled with the door handle as I pushed it open and raced out the door, into the cold, into the street, frantically scanning the dark night as I searched for him.

Flashes of white and red, headlights and taillights casted shadows all over the road and storefronts and sidewalks.

I ran my hands through my hair, trying to figure out which way he had gone.

But no matter where I looked, there was no trace of him. No sign that he had really been there.

When I finally gave up searching, figuring he was just a figment of my imagination, I assumed my heart was telling me something, but my head and I were not privy to—we were not really over him.